STEP (The Senses) (17 page)

How was she going to make it through tonight? Because she had to. Because this was what she’d set herself up for.

Liam approached with long confident strides, the crowd parting like the red sea as he made his way towards her. His smile brilliant, as if he already knew the struggle she was having with being surrounded by so many people.

He put his arm around her waist, palm resting on the small of her back. “Already it’s been too long,” he said, while one finger stroked the length of her arm. “I can sense your desire for blood.”

She gave a half smile. Jedrik told her to play it cool, but all she wanted to do was get as far away from Liam as she could. Get through tonight, then Jedrik promised to get her out of the city.

“Come to my table, my dear. I’m just finishing some business.” He took her arm and pulled her against his hard lean body. “Easy, love,” he said as her overwhelming urgency to taste his blood pulsated.

He led her through the patrons, most
of whom nodded and smiled at Liam. Some offered hands, which Liam graciously accepted—he was a gentleman after all—nothing fazed him and everyone either liked him or was frightened of him and wanted to keep on his good side.

The reserved table at the back of the club was close to the dance floor, but far enough away not to be bumped and bothered by some of the more untamed and intoxicated patrons. The booth was clothed in red velvet with a black marble table in the center and red candles flickering shadows across the surface. The entire club was done in black and crimson with the odd smidge of white, like a candle or throw pillow in the lounging area.

They ordered drinks from an approaching waiter; she asked for water, but Liam insisted on red wine, which he never drank. Her attention was shifting from person to person, her thoughts jumbled like a jigsaw puzzle, her body screaming for something, while her mind rejected it. She couldn’t focus on anything without splotches of red impairing her vision. She wanted to run
,
,
yet part of her just wanted to grab Liam and sink her teeth—

Liam squeezed her waist—hard—when they stopped at his table.
“Abigail my precious, may I introduce you to Jasmine. A new acquaintance of mine.” Bastard knew she hated when he called her that.

She didn’t notice what Jasmine was until the moment she touched her hand. The long manicured fingers had white webbing tattooed on each tip—
a Lilac. This was not good. She’d never seen one before but this woman’s gorgeous appearance matched how Trinity had described their fabled beauty. Perfectly smooth skin with long ash-blonde hair that hung down to her shoulders. Eyes as blue as if a can of cerulean paint had splashed into them.

What was Liam doing with a Lilac? What was a Lilac doing in Toronto? As far as she knew, it was an off
-limits city, considering Waleron resided here.

Liam gestured to the table and placed Abby on his left and Jasmine across from them. “Abigail is making the Transition,” Liam said, another statement to mark his claim on her.

“Is that so?” Jasmine drawled. “So you’ll become a vampire? My understanding is that you’re a witch at present.”

So, Liam has spoken with this woman before and obviously, it wasn’t all business. “Yes.”

“Liam is a lucky man.” She raised her glass of red wine. “A toast, to your new life. May it bring you both joy and the prosperity of . . . blood.”

She jerked her eyes to Jasmine at the last remark. No, she thought. It was impossible. She couldn’t know. No one knew, except Trinity and herself. If any vamp found out—if the Senses found out—shit
, she had to get into this detox thing fast.

What had she done? Everything would’ve been fine if not for the pregnancy. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. It couldn’t with a child. Could she survive the
detox and still keep her baby alive? If she Transitioned . . . they’d both die. Her only chance was detox. She had brought this upon herself. No child was paying for her mistakes.

Jasmine was businesslike and meticulous with her perfectly ironed white blouse and slim tight black pants. Casual in a sense too, with her shirt left slightly opened at the neck to reveal the upper corners of
her lace bra.

It was the hard plan
es of her face that made Abby uneasy—sharp angular jaw and eyes that refused to waver, as if she could stare anyone down for days. Abby shivered, rubbing her arms and squirming in her seat. Something felt off. Why? Why had Liam wanted her to meet Jasmine? Or had it been the other way around?

Jasmine reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope. She slid it across the table to Liam. Liam opened it and pulled out what appeared
to be a legal document. Whatever it was, Liam was pleased because his eyes gleamed with delight.

“Interesting. This is rather . . . surprising news. And you’re certain neither have any idea?” he asked.

Jasmine smiled. “Of course not. We never intended them to find out—so soon. But new developments have arisen and we must further our cause using other resources.”

“Me,” Liam said, raising his brows.

“Mmmm. You have a new development and so do I. Merging our resources can and will assist us in accomplishing what we both want.”

Abby wanted to grab the envelope and see what was in there, but she suspected neither of them wanted her to know a damn thing. They were talking about mergers, developments, and resources as
if they were business partners.

Liam slid the envelope back to Jasmine. “It seems I have a new friend and perfect timing for this new development.”

“And her?” Jasmine nodded in her direction.

Liam put his hand under the table and squeezed her thigh. “Unfortunately, complicated
, as I said, but in good time she will be a great asset.”

Abby
had no clue what they were talking about, but right now she didn’t give a crap. She couldn’t sit here any longer. Her paranoia was mounting by the second, making her thirst intensify. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said. She needed to chug back a pint of water to try and ease the thirst. All she could think about was sinking her teeth into Liam’s neck. She knew from the past couple days that water satisfied it for mere minutes, but any reprieve was better than nothing.

Liam gave her a lingering touch on her thigh, another stamp that she was soon to be his, and then she slipped from the booth and half-ran towards the bathroom.

She didn’t make it that far. The scent of blood was too strong; her thirst cried out to take what her body craved. Control was slipping faster than a jetfighter at warp speed.

This was a mistake. What had she done? The thirst was so intense. Like a drug addict, surrounded by bags and bags of free cocaine.

It had been so long since she’d cried. She could remember the day exactly. She’d been four years old and her mother was abandoning her to Trinity in a dark alley. She cried for days and days. Since then, she refused to cry.

A
single tear slipped down her cheek.

The control was gone.

She grabbed the closest person to her, a man standing at the bar with disheveled shoulder-length dirty blond hair and grunge clothing. He was too intoxicated and bewildered by the sudden attention of an attractive woman and didn’t question her motives.

She leaned into him, her hand sliding up his chest to his neck
, finding the pulsing blood flow beneath the pad of her finger.

Thirsty. She was so thirsty.

She wrapped her arm around his neck, drawing him closer, smelling the sweet scent of blood crying out to her.

He was grinning from ear to ear, his soft hazel eyes dancing with pleasure at what he’d managed to snatch for the night.

She pulled him closer, her lips inches from his neck, tongue flickering out to trail a path along his naked skin.

“Sweet Jesus, woman,” he slurred. He pulled her closer, arms wrapping her in a cocoon of warmth.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and lowered her teeth to his neck.

****

Delara sensed him behind her and wanted to kick herself for being so stupid. Of course, the egomaniac would want retaliation. The fiery Wraith was as arrogant as the king of the jungle. Well, time to face the music, even if it was heavy metal.

First Waleron, now Edan. This was turning out to be one bastard of a day.

She laid her pool stick on the green felt and spun around. “I forfeit, buddy.” She slapped a twenty on the table, picked up her Stella and sauntered away.

Edan leaned up against the
oak bar, eyes watching her like a lizard hunting its prey. The red hue in his eyes made her want to run, but Edan was a Wraith and running would only piss him off more.

She slid onto the barstool next to him and placed her half-full beer on the solid surface. “Took you long enough. I expected you sooner,” she said without meeting his piercing eyes. “Beer?” She knew damn well he’d refuse. Wraiths stayed clear of spirits as it made them . . . well
, unmanageable.

“You’re a bitch,” Edan said. Okay, so he didn’t need to warm up with idle chitchat. “No one uses me. Especially not a woman.”

“Well, I did and I’m a woman,” Delara shot back. She was still hurting over Waleron’s cold unfeeling words, or rather lack of words. Edan had picked the wrong time for a confrontation.

“Slut,” Edan spat.

She shrugged. “I got what I wanted, didn’t I?”

His eyes flamed an orange glow
, and if she didn’t cool it, he’d ignite this bar into flames. She took a sip of beer and twirled it between her hands. She actually liked Edan. He’d treated her well enough and the sex had been damn good. Most of all, he’d taught her to have backbone to face anger, instead of her usual—running away. Case in point, here she sat.

“You’re mighty brave after pissing off a Wraith. I could have you incarcerated in our realm in seconds.” Yeah, he could
, but the Wraiths and Senses were on the same side. If he pissed off the Senses, all they did for the human world would be obliterated. So, her guess was that he’d rant and rave, threaten and then walk away.

“Well, get it out of your system. I have shit to do.” She glanced down at her watch. “Two minutes.” A lie, but he didn’t have to know that.

Edan’s arm shot out so fast that she didn’t have time to stop him. He knocked her beer from her hands and tossed it over the end of the bar.
Oh crap, here we go.

“Hey
, man,” the bartender yelled.

Delara gave an apologetic wince. “Sorry
, Dave. Won’t happen again.”

Edan yanked her off the stool and up against his broad chest. She could feel his erection through his jeans and cursed herself for provoking him. Edan loved a good fight; the Fire Wraith was impulsive and hot-blooded.

“You think to walk away from me after what you did?” He grabbed her chin, but his fingers were gentle. “I want you. Now.” His voice was deep and graveled.

Time to cool his cucumber. “I used you. The sex was good, but not that good. Be pissed and hurt and spit fire, but that’s the truth.” The second lie tumbled from her lips easily. The sex had been great and he’d given her more than he knew. He had shown her that not every man would hurt her in anger. Despite his fiery attitude, Edan would never harm her. And that was why he was the first man she felt guil
ty about using.

His hand dropped from her chin. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?”

“You just called me a bitch and a slut. I don’t think this is about anyone, but you and me.” Another lie.

“I could take you with me
.” Edan splay his hand on her narrow waist. The desire in his eyes blazed and she felt her own begin to heighten.

“You could and I’d hate you for it.” She stepped from his warmth. “I have to go.”

She went to walk away and was stopped by a gentle hold on her hand. She sighed. Edan was not making this easy on her by being kind. Guilt sat like a tub of lard in the pit of her stomach.

“Delara,” Edan whispered. “I care about you. What we had was . . .”

She placed her finger on his lips. He immediately grabbed it between his teeth and brought it into his mouth. Crap, wrong thing to do. A heat developed between her legs and she slipped her finger from his grasp.

“Edan
, don’t,” Delara said.

“I can’t believe that what we shared was all bull. Tell me it was real.”

How could she? It would only make things worse. There was sexual attraction, sure, he was tall, muscular and had a strength that almost matched Waleron’s. And that there was the problem. Waleron.

“No matter what it was, it remains the same. You’re a Wraith. I’m a Senses. I can’t live permanently in your realm and you can’t in mine.” Wraiths were spirits after all
, and spending more than a few hours at a time in the human world drained their powers.

“We can make it work.” He argued then sighed. “I didn’t mean . . . what I said. I was angry.” Maybe he did or didn’t. The result was the same.

He reached for her and she should have run, but the look in his magnetic eyes had her reliving the tender moments they’d spent together. “Come back with me.” He stroked the side of her throat with the tip of his finger. Shivers coursed down her spine at his gentle touch. She might not love Edan, but he knew how to raise her heart rate.