All Souls' Night - Renee Rose Page 0,166

but it will be okay in the end.”

“Do you mean about school?”

She looks away. “And everything. Life.”

“Abuela, are you okay?” My voice is a little high. She’s acting strangely, and her words are so cryptic.

“Oh, I’m fine.” She looks back at me and her face is fond. “Just tired tonight.” She touches the earring box. “She would have been so proud of you, mija. So proud.” Her voice catches.

“I miss her.” I touch the box too, as if it connects me to the past. To my mother.

“I know.” Abuela sighs. “So do I.” She shakes her head. “Wear the earrings this weekend, Temi. They’ll bring you luck.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in luck.” I smile.

She laughs and shakes her head. “You’re right. Not luck, then. Something else.”

“Okay.” The truth is, I want to wear the earrings every day if I can; they’re so pretty, and they make me feel connected to my roots.

They also make me feel sexy.

As I sit with Abuela, asking to hear stories about her childhood and mine, and tales about my mother, part of my mind drifts to Locke. How he’d react to seeing me dressed up in a sexy gown and the earrings; high heels. I smile at the thought, because I can’t wait to be with him again.

Chapter 6

“Whiskey, rocks.” I nod to the bartender, who shoots me a smile and hands over my drink. “Thanks.” I slide him a twenty, take a sip, and look around.

Club Toxic is on fire tonight. It’s October 31, the evening of our exclusive, invite-only Venetian ball, and I’ve never seen this place so sexy.

Delicate filigree masks of lace or spun gold shine in the light; period authentic gowns and modern versions adorn the beautiful women—no expense spared. Everyone has the vibe of sophistication and sex, and just like at the art gallery, more than one woman shoots me a look full of desire and promise.

But I don’t want any of them. I invited Temi, but she’s not here. Yet. I glance toward the door.

Damian joins me at the bar. “Nice suit, Locke. Are you looking for a playmate?” His eagle vampire eyes, like mine, notice all the details.

I raise my glass to him. “I invited someone.”

“Let me guess. The student?” Yeah, I told him about her, too.

“She needs a little tutoring.” I chuckle. “To learn her lessons more, shall we say, thoroughly.”

He laughs. “I knew you weren’t going to let that go.”

“You know me too well.”

And suddenly, there she is—and she’s the most fucking beautiful woman in this entire club.

“Holy hell.” I drink the rest of the whiskey in one shot and stand up, my eyes locked onto her.

She’s staring at me, too, wide-eyed, cheeks flushed. The top of her gown, golden intricate swirls against black lace, is cut so low that her perfect breasts are barely covered. The skirt of the dress swoops down to the floor, soft and flowing, but a wicked cut all the way up to the very top reveals her toned thighs and gorgeous skin with every move she makes. Her mask is a delicate wisp of gold and black lace.

Fuck.

“Come.” I whisper the word, crossing my arms. Dom her from the start—begin as I plan to go on.

She ducks her head for a second before raising it back up, like an acquiescence to my command. She keeps her eyes on me as she walks through the throng, grace personified, all male gazes hot on her back and legs and chest.

It gives me great satisfaction that she chose me out of them all. I’m the one who will take her downstairs tonight and own her pretty little body until dawn.

“Temi.” I take her hand as she approaches, and drop a kiss onto her red lips. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you. So are you. Handsome.” She flushes.

I’m well aware of the effect I have on women—but hearing this from her means more than from any other woman tonight. Because she’s the one I crave.

“Would you like a drink?” I gesture to the bartender.

“A glass of white wine.”

She smells divine, floral and fresh. Her blood is so lush and healthy, so vibrant—I start to salivate, remembering how good she tasted.

“Of course. And this is my friend, Damiano. He’s a chef from New York.” Temi doesn’t need to know that he’s five hundred years old and is undead like I am. We give our human toys just enough information to satisfy them.

“And my date, Dahlia.” Damiano gestures to a human who’s joined him. We do the obligatory