"Baby, aren't you going a little fast?" Damali said, her tone strident and loud to compete with the bass thumping from the speakers.
Carlos looked down at the dashboard and read the speedometer: 110 mph. This was nothing. "I'm cool."
"Uh... baby? What's on your mind?"
He shrugged, bopping to the music while he kept his eyes straight ahead. "Nothing. Just wanna get a drink. See a few people. Then, we can go somewhere alone." He wasn't looking at her as he yelled over the music. He could feel her clutching her seat belt and the blood draining from her knuckles. "Where we're going," he said slowly as the Chevy sped up and bounced when it hit a seam in the road, "you gotta follow my lead to the letter."
She reached out and turned down the volume.
"Carlos, where are we going? For real."
He glanced at her, taking his eyes off the road to study her thighs. He smiled when she gripped the dashboard and almost shrieked. The mild terror the ride produced within her, plus the adrenaline, and his own rage, not to mention the way she looked and the way she smelled was making him crazy, not just a little irrational. The speed was exhilarating. The night was perfect. Maybe, later, he could convince her to sit on his lap while he did 220? He chuckled.
"All right. I'll slow down. Just wanna go see my old club. Brings back memories."
Damali glared at him. "Your old club was seized by the DEA, and I don't think it's a good idea for folks to know you're alive... I mean, you know, around."
Her concern for him warmed his heart, but she just didn't understand. "Yeah, true. But they sold it at auction. Heard a guy in my territory picked it up, and - "
"Is it a vamp club, Carlos?" She sat back in her seat as the wind whipped her face. She pushed a loose lock back up into her ponytail, then crossed her arms over her chest.
"Baby, don't act like this. It's about power. Absolute control of my zones so that no matter where you are, there won't be no shit. Feel me?" He looked at her hard, and then looked back at the road, dodging slower-moving vehicles. There was a motorcycle cop up ahead. Carlos blinded them to his eyes as they blew past him. "When you go on tour, when you're out in the street, I don't want no bullshit. If lower levels are trying me, I need to get this locked down, now."
The fact that she didn't answer him, grated him. On one hand, he was glad that she wasn't being her normally stubborn self But if she didn't challenge his need to make a stand, then her gut instinct was registering something he didn't like. Her confidence in his ability to protect her was not as firm as it should be. That, also, could never happen again.
When he pulled up to the curb, he yanked a pair of black shades out of his leather suit breast pocket and put them on. He smoothed down his burnt-gold silk shirt, tucking it firmly into his pants, and steadied himself for the inevitable - drama when he walked in with the Neteru. He studied the change to his marquis. Club Vengeance was now Club Eternity... Yeah, we'll see, when I smoke that motherfucker who owns it.
Carlos, don't start nothing in here. Please. Damali noted the tension in his body as he put his arm around her waist, and pulled her in tight. This mess was prehistoric! She watched male vampires in line puff up a little as they took a step forward, then thought better of it, ran a testosterone sensory check over Carlos, backed up, nodded, then let him through, bypassing the long line outside.
Lower-level, third- and fourth-generation females snarled under their breaths at her, but gave Carlos seductive smiles that she did not appreciate. Cleavage was everywhere, some of it real, some of it plastic. Some of her stage outfits weren't as daring as what some of these women were wearing. Damali almost felt dowdy in comparison.
But an eerie defensiveness entered her as Carlos escorted her to the bar, his gaze roving over what was once his. She could feel his rage building the deeper they walked into the club. Every nuance, every change within his environment sent a jolt through him. His grip tightened on her waist as he glanced up at the VIP booth and what had once been his office.
She could feel it in her bones, like a summer rain coming. Her man was outnumbered, and all she had on her was the baby Isis, her short blade.
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, his head jerked around and he pinned her with a hard stare. His gaze was so intense that it nearly burned her. She could see red flickering behind his dark shades. The warning in his eyes was implicit - Don't ever doubt me like that! Not here! He pulled away from her and offered her a seat, running his tongue over his incisors and breathing slowly through his nose.
She touched his arm gently. He looked down at her hand and nodded. She let her breath out very slowly. Okay, she had to learn the nuances of vampire culture fast and on her feet. But, then again, it wasn't all that different from life as she knew it on the streets. Primal. Alpha males in full force. Any hint of weakness was quickly sniffed out, any sign of disrespect swiftly dealt with. She sighed. She'd rather be making love.
"Later," he muttered, his gaze slowly going around the club.
Damali opened her mouth and closed it. Okay, he was definitely getting stronger, because she hadn't even mind locked with him that time.
"Chivas, just a hint of color," he told the bartender, "top shelf. How old is it?"
"Two days," the bartender said, smiling, bringing him a bottle to inspect. "Got same day if you want it?"
Carlos stared at him. "I asked you for top shelf, didn't I?"
"My bad," the bartender said, holding up his hand, and removing the offending bottle. "For the lady?"
"Dom - no color," Carlos said, not even looking at her.
Damali's gaze shot between Carlos and the bartender. Carlos's gaze was constantly sweeping the terrain, but the bartender was totally focused on Carlos.
"No color? In here?" the bartender said after a moment, and then shook his head. "You a bold mo'fucker." He pulled down a short rocks glass and a black bottle from the top shelf, along with a bottle of Chivas Regal, and blended the blood and liquor before Carlos. He then got a clear champagne glass and poured Dom Perignon for Damali, hesitating as he gave it to her. "Remember, I'm just the bartender... I just work here, if anything jumps off."
Carlos swirled the drink around in his glass, threw the murky concoction into the back of his throat, swallowed fast, and then winced as he set down the empty glass hard. He handed the bartender a C-note. "You tell your boss that the old owner is here, and that he's a bold motherfucker, too."