“Of course,” I reply, shrugging into my coat.
Finn drops me off a couple of streets away from Crimson, so as not to attract any attention. He’s well known among the vamps as one of the best slayers in the DOH, and I don’t think things would turn out very well if a vampire were to recognise me associating with a man whose day job consists of doing his best to kill them off one by one.
The club isn’t as busy as the last time I’d been here, and I go to sit by the bar, knocking back a shot of vodka in one go. Just a little Dutch courage. The stool beside mine creaks and a recognisable silky female voice addresses the barman. “A glass of red wine please, Robert.”
I turn a little in my seat to find Eliza perched beside me, her almond shaped eyes scanning me as though taking inventory. She takes a delicate sip from her wine glass, then makes a tut tut noise through her sharp white teeth while shaking her head. “Silly girl, Ethan will not be pleased when he discovers you’ve been giving blood elsewhere.”
I gesture for the barman to pour me another shot. “What are you talking about?” I try to put as much confidence into my voice as possible, but it still comes out a little shaky.
“You have a lot to learn about our kind, honey, we can sense blood in so many different ways, scent, quality, consistency, quantity,” she says this last part with venom in her tone, and it makes me wince. “You have lost quite a substantial amount of blood very recently, and I know for a fact that it wasn’t donated to Ethan.”
“I had a little accident,” I tell her in a low voice.
Eliza laughs cruelly. “Lies will do you no good in the long run.” A beatific smile spreads across her perfect face. “I’m quite looking forward to watching Ethan punish you for this betrayal. Then you will be gone and things can get back to normal.”
I pick up
the shot and knock it back before rising from my stool. “Jealousy is a very unattractive characteristic, Eliza.” I turn to leave, but her cold, claw-like hand grabs my wrist like a vice.
“You think you can speak to me like that, do you have any idea of who my father is?”
I glare at her. “I don’t really care about who he is, but I do know what he is, and that is a creepy fucking bastard.” I have to physically restrain myself from adding “child stealing” before “bastard”. I can’t allow losing my temper to blow my cover, but I do want to put Eliza in her place. Unfortunately, my anger has caused me to momentarily forget that she’s almost two hundred years old and a million times stronger than me. Her cold, predator’s eyes turn scarlet.
She just about rips my arm out of the socket as she slams me back against the bar, hatred seeping from her every pore as her transformed eyes cut into me like a blade. I can feel her hand on my wrist tighten, and I pray that she doesn’t crush any bones.
“I don’t think I possess the patience to wait for Ethan to punish you, I think I’ll have to start the proceedings myself,” she hisses, her eyes now glowing ruby red. She raises her fist into the air and things seem to move in slow motion as it descends on me.
I scrunch up my eyes in anticipation of the blow, but just when her fist is about to make contact with my face, somebody rips her away. I peer about in surprise to see Dru with her arms tight around Eliza’s waist, holding her back from me.
“Now, now princess, that’s no way for a lady to conduct herself, is it?” says Dru, her expression showing that she is half amused and half bewildered by Eliza’s behaviour.
I slump back against the bar in relief that I have narrowly avoided a black eye or a broken nose, I’m not exactly certain which part of my face Eliza had been aiming for. She struggles against Dru’s hold, but she doesn’t seem to be making any progress in breaking free.
Dru glances at me and laughs. “Good to see you again darlin’, I heard you were back. You’re looking well.”
“Thanks,” I reply on a nervous cough. Eliza is still glaring at me with bloody murder in her eyes.
“Let go of me Drusilla,” she spits.
“Not until you’ve calmed down sweet cheeks. Come on now, I never thought you were the kind of girl to indulge in bar fights.”
“You didn’t hear what that little bitch said about my father,” Eliza is still fuming, and I think this might be a good moment to get as far away from her as possible. It doesn’t look like she’s going to calm down any time soon.
Dru’s gaze returns to me and there’s a quizzical expression on her face when she asks, “What did you say about the Governor?”
I shrug. “Some girls are just too sensitive about their daddies,” and then I walk away toward the back of the club, leaving Dru to take care of Eliza. I rush through the staff door, heading in the direction of Ethan’s office, hoping I’ll find him there because I don’t know if I can rely on Dru to keep Eliza from ripping my eyes out for much longer.
I’m in such a rush to get away from Eliza and somewhere safe that I forget to knock on Ethan’s office door before I enter. I twist the handle and step inside, but what I find on the other side is not at all pleasant. A young blond woman wearing a short black dress is slumped across Ethan’s leather couch, her head resting against a pillow, her bloody neck exposed. Ethan is standing close to her, wiping his mouth with a crisp white handkerchief. He doesn’t look at all regretful either, he looks happy, full of life and energy. A soft chuckle escapes him. What the hell?
As soon as my boot hits the floor his red eyes and bloodied lips turn to me, my hand is cold and clammy as it rests on the door knob. My name escapes his mouth, but I can barely hear it for my heart is beating out a fierce rhythm that resonates through my skull. I let go of the handle and turn from the room, running down the corridor like a victim fleeing an axe murderer.
I push through the fire exit and shiver as the cold night air hits me. Then I’m stopped in my stride and my feet are suddenly airborne. I hear a car door open just as I realise that Ethan has slung me over his shoulder. I know it’s him because his shirt smells familiar, fresh and clean but with the faintest metallic hint of blood. He throws me into the back seat and climbs in with me, slamming the door shut behind him.
I jam my fist into his stomach, but he hardly even winces. “Let me the fuck out of here, Ethan.”
He straddles me and takes hold of both my wrists in an iron grip. My legs are captured between his thighs and I wriggle in an effort to free myself, but it’s no use.
“Will you try to calm down?” he breathes just below my ear. Then he adjusts himself and laughs. “Actually no, keeping doing that, it feels good.”