“I really hope you can come. It’s important for members to show their support. You know it keeps everyone honest when we all mingle occasionally.”
In other words, what she’s saying is that, by mingling at her mixer, we all have something on each other, which means no one tells. Ever. The risk is too high. And she wants to bring the new members right into that. Like a hush party.
I don’t really approve of what she’s doing, but I do need to stay on the good side of her and her…endeavors. Besides, I have frequented the place for several years. I guess the least I could do is go for a drink or two, especially since the lure of the upstairs won’t be the focus of the night.
“I’ll try to stop by,” I answer noncommittally.
“Nine o’clock?”
“Sounds good.”
“Until then, Alec.”
“Carla.”
I hang up and lean back in my chair. I’ve been spending so much time at home brooding since I got back into South Carolina, it’ll be good to get out. If I hadn’t had to come back for some business things here at ABC Consulting, I’d still be in Oregon. Far away from Samantha Jansen.
And how much I still want her.
And how guilty I feel about it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - Samantha
Luckily, I did plenty of research for my books a couple of years ago when I began this vampire series. It was the first time I’d really let go and written about the things I’d seen in childhood. I did lots of investigating, trying to understand not only the mechanics of it all, but the pleasure principles involved. I guess Alec did the same thing in a way, only he was more interested in the psychological aspect of it. In many ways, we are very similar creatures.
I feel the pinch of the outfit I’m wearing under my loose-fitting, floor-length dress. I have to look presentable on the outside. For a while anyway. I owe that to Carla for her help getting me in. Luckily, she was agreeable to helping me do this for Alec. I think she practically drooled over the thought of Alec getting…back into things.
My stomach twitches with fear. A healthy dose of fear. I ignore it. What I’ve discovered in the days since talking to Chris is that the fear of losing Alec forever is far greater than any other fear I’ve known, including the ones I experienced as a child. Besides, even if this isn’t effective, I need to work toward putting the past behind me. I can’t move forward as long as I’m shackled to haunting memories, anchored in yesterday. And I must move on. One way or the other.
I grab my bag and walk toward the bedroom door. I pause in front of the mirror to look myself over one more time.
The pale skin of my exposed arms and throat glows with a healthy sheen and my hair falls in a rich crimson wave almost to my waist. My lips are stained a color near that of my hair and my eyes are lined in charcoal. The makeup is heavy, but it can’t conceal the uncertainty lurking in the gray depths of my eyes, nor can it conceal the tremble of anticipation that works at my lower lip. I bite it as if to remind it to keep still. I’m doing this tonight. No backing out.
Carefully, I walk to the car in my stilettoes. I pitch the bag in the back and ignore the nervous tremor of my hand as I slide the key into the ignition.
This will all be over soon.
With the help of navigation, I make my way back to the renovated house. The club. It’s dark outside when I pull into the lot and park. Warm light pours into the night from every window on the lower level. The upper levels are pitch black.
My heart trips over itself in my chest.
I get out and walk around to the back, going through the back door as instructed. I walk up the back staircase, also as instructed, and find the right room. I stop just inside the doorway, taking in the clean, crisp sheets and the accoutrements that have terrified me for years.
Shaking off my trepidation, I close the door and get out all the things I could gather from my house. Anyone who saw inside my bag would think I’m a traveling freak show.
And I guess, to some extent, they’d be right.
When I’m finished, I go back out to the hall, close the door and head downstairs, slipping my domino on as I go.
I wait anxiously at the bar, sipping on first one drink then another then another. Still no sign of Alec. My disappointment is keen. But so is my relief.
I turn toward the bartender, requesting a glass of water this time. Happily, he sets one on a napkin in front of me and I tag a long, refreshing gulp.
“New members, huh? Now I understand Carla’s ambiguity.”
My pulse leaps at the sound of his voice.
I turn slowly on my seat to face Alec. At first, I’m struck speechless. How I could forget how handsome he is, I’ll never know. I’ve thought all along that he is my real life Mason. But what I have just now come to realize is that he is so much more, so much better. Mason is a shadow of the man Alec is. And what I feel for him is a thousand leagues deeper than what Daire feels for her vampire.
This is love. Real love. And this is my last chance at it.
The stern set of his mouth assures me he’s not happy at the subterfuge, and behind his domino, his eyes are hard. But neither of those things stops me from melting over Alec—his scent, his eyes, his body. His soul. I love it all. I love him. Irrevocably.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask, ignoring his comment.
He hesitates. Understandably. I was mean and ugly and childish when last we spoke. I’m surprised he didn’t turn right around and walk back out the door. The fact that he didn’t gives me hope. Tiny hope, but hope nonetheless.
This time, he ignores me. He asks the bartender for a glass of twenty-five year old Glenlivet and downs it in one long swallow, signaling him immediately for another. When the bartender places the second one in front of him, Alec takes the glass and turns to face me, leaning casually against the bar.
“I don’t suppose I need to ask what you’re doing here.”
“Don’t you?”
He raises one black brow, but says nothing, simply takes another sip of his scotch.
He sets the half full glass back on the bar and folds his hands in front of him, settling in to watch me in that unnerving way of his. It amplifies my jitters tenfold.
Clearing my throat, I give myself a mental shove and I take a step closer to Alec, looking up into his handsome face and light green eyes. “I never got the chance to apologize for that night. I never meant to get so ugly or to make you…to force you to…”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he finally says, jumping in to save me. “That’s what happens between people like us.”