Мишель Роуэн - Bitten & Smitten

“I’m Barry.” A very small man emerged from behind the desk; he couldn’t have been more than four feet tall. He wore a tuxedo and had a black top hat perched crookedly on his head. “Barry Jordan.” He extended a small hand upward. “I was told to expect you.”

“Hi.” I shook his hand automatically. No reason for me to be rude, after all. “Then I guess I’m Sarah.”

“Excellent. I take it you’re here for the grand tour?”

My gaze slid from the potted plant back to the desk. “There’s a grand tour?”

“Absolutely.” Barry’s smile showed off tiny fangs. He released my hand. A miniature vampire. Collect ‘em all.

“You’re a vampire?”

“Yes, of course.”

I sighed. “Good. I have so many questions, I need to—”

He waved his hand. “All in good time. Are you ready for the tour?”

I stared at him for a moment. “Um. Okay, I guess.”

He grinned, hurried over to the right, and opened one of the white doors into a room with a toilet, a sink, three lockers, and a wooden bench.

“The changing room,” Barry announced.

“Ah.”

He closed the door and moved to the other. Inside were two tanning beds, currently not in use. A dirty towel had been rolled up and discarded in a corner. Another potted palm tree sat near the door.

“The tanning room.” He made a presentational flourish with his arm, as if he were showing me something very impressive. “Employees tan for free.”

“Vampires tan?” I said with a frown. “But I thought—”

He waved me off again. “Please do not interrupt.” Barry Jordan was quickly outstaying his welcome as tour director in my book. He clicked the door closed and breezed past me on the way to the last door. I held up a hand to stop him.

“Listen, I don’t want to waste any more of your time. I’m really not all that interested in the inner workings of a tanning salon. No offense.”

“But you’ll want to see this. I’m sure you will.” He looked extremely disappointed; even his bow tie seemed to wilt a little bit.

I sighed with impatience. “All right, then. Go ahead.”

He nodded, straightened his tie, and reached forward to open the door. A wave of voices, loud music, smoke, and darkness seemed to rush into the reception area, and my mouth dropped open at what I saw inside.

“This is the real Midnight Eclipse,” Barry said proudly. “Vampires only.”

I blinked in disbelief. Of all the things I’d expected to see behind that last door, this wasn’t it. But I suppose it made perfect sense. A nightclub for vampires. Somewhere to relax and unwind after a hard day of avoiding the sunlight and pointy wooden objects. After a moment my eyes adjusted to the dimness. A long, black-lacquered bar hugged the wall to the left. Booths and tables flaunted sexy crimson tablecloths and small, glowing lamps. At the far side there was a stage, where, over the murmured conversations of the crowded club, a beautiful, raven-haired Bertie Page look-alike was singing a throaty rendition of “Fever.”

“Have you ever waited tables before?” Barry asked.

“In college,” I said, my voice barely audible. “But I’m sure it’ll come back to me.”

“Good.”

I shut my gaping mouth. “Wait a minute. Forget I said that. I don’t want to work here.”

“I thought you were here for a job interview.”

“No. I need to talk to Thierry.”

“Thierry?” Barry sounded shocked. “You mean the master.”

“The master?”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Without respect. The master is to be respected.”

I glanced back into the club. A few eyes were now on me. Curious gazes from the gathered vampires. It was funny, because if I hadn’t been told they were all creatures of the night, I’d never have guessed it. They looked perfectly normal to me. Not Goth, anyhow. Not one pasty face or black Marilyn Manson outfit to be seen.

Barry took a deep breath and a smile blossomed on his face again. “You’re new. He mentioned that you were without a sire, so any missteps are to be expected, of course.”

“Missteps?” My patience was waning. “Look, Tuxedo Boy, is Thierry here or not?”

The smile slipped from his face again and his eyes flashed angrily at me. Yikes. I didn’t want to make him pop a blood vessel or anything.

“Barry,” a smooth, deep voice said to my left. “It’s all right. Please leave Miss Dearly to me.”

The sound of his voice coursed down my spine like the feel of your first shot of tequila on frosh night. Shocking and unexpected, but not entirely unpleasant.

I turned, already knowing who it was.

The master.

He looked different than he had last night. More put-together. Less suicidal. His dark, almost-black hair was brushed off his face. He had high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a square jawline showing a small amount of fashionable stubble. His full lips were unsmiling, of course, and gray eyes that seemed almost silver watched me as if I were the only person in the room.

He, unlike the others in the club, was dressed all in black. He wore a button-down silk shirt that was open at the neck, black jacket, and black dress pants. The darkness made his face look even paler, but it wasn’t unattractive and pasty. It was as if he glowed with power. An inner energy that made me tingle right down to my toes.

Yowza.

“Sarah,” he said. “I was not certain that you’d come.”

I forced a smile. “And yet, here I am.”

Barry made a sound and I grimaced. He probably wanted me to bow before the master, or something. As if that were going to happen. Thierry’s gaze moved to the tiny man. “Be so kind as to fetch Miss Dearly and myself something to drink.”

Barry bowed, the little brownnoser that he was. Then he backed away and headed toward the bar. Thierry gently took me by my elbow and steered me over toward a booth.

“Please sit,” he said.

I sat.

He took a seat across from me and met my eyes. “I imagine this is all quite overwhelming for you.”

“You could say that.” I leaned back and tried to look as comfortable as possible, given the situation. “I thought this was supposed to be a tanning salon.”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “It is. But as you can see, it is also much more than that. The previous owner believed it to be an ironic joke. A vampire club behind the facade of a tanning salon.”

“Funny.”

Thierry didn’t smile.

I swallowed and tried to chase my nervousness away. “So, you own this place, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

Whether or not he also thought it was cool, he made no indication.

I forced a smile. “Look, I have tons of questions for you about this vampire thing.”

“So, at last you believe that you’re no longer dreaming?”

I looked away and concentrated on smoothing out a wrinkle on the red tablecloth. “To tell you the truth, I did think it was all a dream. I was positive of it. At least until something weird happened today.”

“What happened?”

I was embarrassed, but anxious to move onto my real questions, so I launched into a quick retelling of the finger-sucking incident. If he found it amusing, he didn’t give any sign.

“It is to be expected,” he said when I was finished. “Your body craves blood now. You

were simply acting on instinct.”

“It’s an instinct I don’t want. How do I stop it?” That comment almost earned me a smile. Almost.

“You cannot stop it.”

Barry stopped at our table with two drinks on a tray. He placed a martini glass full of dark red liquid in front of Thierry. “Your usual, master. And one newbie special.”

He plunked another glass of Gatorade-for-vamps in front of me. Slightly pink water. I gritted my teeth and glanced at Thierry.