The Secret Vampire Society
Lisa Childs
www.millsandboon.co.uk
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It had been a hell of an eternity.
Especially the past week. As he walked its dark streets, Conner West breathed in the scents of the city: gasoline and oil wafted from the asphalt; wood smoke and the aroma of grilled meats from the weathered brick buildings. From the people he passed, he could smell flowery perfume, musk and the sweet, coppery odor of blood.
He could have flown to his destination. Literally. Or taken the underground passage. But night had fallen, without a trace of star or moon, so the darkness suited his mood. Suited him.
Maybe it was time to leave the city, move on like he had so many other times. But he had friends here in Zantrax, people who could commiserate with his situation. His pace quickened as he neared downtown. Maybe Julian would be at Club Underground. No one understood guilt the way Julian did. And Julian would never leave Zantrax, not while the mortal for whom he felt such guilt and responsibility lived.
But as Conner had learned the hard way, mortals didn’t live very long, especially when they got involved with vampires. That was why he’d walked away from her a couple of days ago. He stopped along the sidewalk, at the same point where he’d rescued her from a heel stuck in a sewer grate. She had rewarded his heroism with a kiss. He licked his lips, tasting her yet…the tangy sweetness that was somehow familiar. Not that all humans tasted the same. Miranda hadn’t. And she was why he’d left the innocent mortal on the street.
So he wasn’t in to sweet young things anymore. She’d have to play this differently then. She’d have to show him who she was now; who he had made her. Undead. And bitter as hell about it. So bitter that she needed to destroy the man who had destroyed the life she’d known.
Despite the crush of the crowd and the volume of the music and conversation, she knew the moment he stepped into Club Underground. Her skin tingled, and her nose twitched as she caught his scent. Her scent. Even now, all these years later, he still smelled like her, like the blood he’d stolen from her. The blood she wanted back.
She turned on her bar stool and scanned the club patrons in search of his face. The crowd parted for him. Women gazed at him in awe, men in envy. Damn the man. With his golden blond hair and piercing blue eyes he looked more angel than devil. But she knew the truth because he’d consigned her to Hell.
He stopped, before he neared her, and folded his long, lean body into a booth in a dark corner of the club. People, standing because there were no other places to sit, blocked her view of whomever he joined. But she didn’t care who he was with now…because soon he would be with her.
“He’s not worth it,” a feminine voice advised.
Brandi, as she called herself now, glanced at the black-haired woman who sat next to her. “You know this personally?” she asked with a flash of emotion she refused to identify as jealousy. It was just irritation…that someone might derail the plan she’d spent years formulating.
The woman shook her head. “Not like that. I know better than to play with fire.”
Brandi hadn’t known that…until it was too late. “He’s that hot?”
“He’s that dangerous,” the woman said, leaning closer as if she feared his overhearing them even though he was nearly across the room. “He’s reckless and careless. Men like him put us all in danger.”
Us…
She was one of them now, one of the Secret Vampire Society—a secret they would kill to keep. She glanced around the club again. Not all the patrons were vampires or other creatures of the night. Some mortals frequented the club for thrills because they suspected the secret. But they didn’t know for certain; they couldn’t know and live.
Was that why he’d killed her, or had tried? Because he’d suspected she’d realized exactly what he was…
But she hadn’t known until it was too late…until she had become what he was.
“A little danger can be exciting,” she told the other woman as she slid from the stool, especially since he was the one in danger. Not her.
Long fingers closed around her arm. “Be careful.”
She patted the other woman’s hand. They weren’t friends; Brandi hadn’t been in Zantrax long enough to make friends. Not that she would have. She’d left her friends behind in her mortal life; they were probably all dead by now. Of natural causes. “I appreciate your concern…”
“But you’re not going to listen.”
She had waited too long while she’d spent years tracking him down at every underground club in the world, so that she could finally exact her revenge. “No.”
The air in the crowded club vibrated with excitement. Conner felt the vibrations in his veins, pumping hot and fast with his blood. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a sensation—such a sense of anticipation. Something was going to happen tonight—something that would change everything.
“Are you all right?” Julian asked.
Conner glanced at the concern on his friend’s face. “Fine…”
But he wasn’t. He hadn’t been fine in more years than he could remember, but he’d made certain to never reveal his unrest or his guilt. He could afford no hint of vulnerability, for vulnerability in this society was a sure sign of weakness. And the weak did not survive.
Conner turned back to the crowd and scanned faces in search of the source of the excitement that pulsed in the air like the bass of the music. And he found her. He’d noticed her the minute he’d stepped inside Club Underground, his gaze automatically drawn to the sheen of her glossy red hair. But then Julian had waved him over to the booth before he could approach her.
Now she approached him with a sexy, hip-rolling walk that had his body tensing with desire…and anticipation. Black satin, in the form of a strapless dress, clung to every full curve. His breath shuddered out.
Julian whistled. “Here comes trouble.”
Conner grinned. “Hell, yeah…”
“You don’t need any more trouble, my friend.”
He needed to forget the trouble he’d already found. And making love with a woman like her would probably make him forget his own name let alone his old mistakes. Tonight, more than any other night, he needed to forget…even if he risked making another mistake.
“Is she…?”
“One of us?” Julian asked. “She was talking to Ingrid at the bar.”
Ingrid never spoke to mortals. Hell, she wouldn’t even speak to the vampires who’d fraternized with mortals.
“Conner,” a throaty female voice murmured his name. She leaned over the table, displaying a tantalizing amount of cleavage as her full breasts tested the bodice of the black satin dress.
Regret flashed through him. If she was one of them, Ingrid would have told her who he was and what he’d done. So why had she walked over to him? He braced himself for a slap or worse…as she leaned closer.
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