All Souls' Night - Renee Rose Page 0,219

chuckle. Who am I to deny her this pleasure?

Once at the club, I scan the area before walking over to Dahlia’s side and opening the door. As she gets out, I slam it shut behind her and grab her by the throat, pinning her to the car. The nice guy from earlier slowly disappears back inside me. There’ll be time for him later. Once she’s back in my hotel room and gasping from my pleasure, then I’ll let the tenderness back out. But right now, she wants a taste of my world, and I promised to give her a night she wouldn’t forget.

Hopefully, her being dressed in white will help curb my baser instincts. It’s so much harder to get blood out of something white than nearly any other color. Oh, who am I kidding. I want her blood to flow, but only for me. No one else will get that pleasure tonight. Her pulse flutters under my palm but her face remains placid. We’ll see how long that lasts.

“Remember,” I growl, dipping my head to her ear, “you will obey me tonight. This is not a negotiation. Don’t make me cut your time here short.”

I lean back and stare into her eyes—they are wide, mostly dark, with a ring of light blue. As the moon reflects in their depths, I force myself to pull back. This witch would have me go back on everything just to stare into her eyes. Backing away from her hypnotic pull, I slide my mask into place and hand her hers. The white mask with feathers I ordered to go with the dress frames her eyes beautifully, and sets her hair on fire. Hand in hand, we make our way into the club.

I spot Bentley and jerk up my chin in greeting before depositing Dahlia on a barstool. Not even looking at the person serving drinks, I order a brandy for myself, and a Coke for Dahlia.

“Wait, I’m twenty-one now. I deserve a drink!” she says.

Smirking, I look down at her for a moment. “Of age or not, I’m not playing with someone under the influence.”

Crossing her arms, she looks away and huffs. “But you’re drinking.”

I tuck my knuckle under her chin and force her gaze to mine. “Yes, but I know what I can handle. I don’t know anything about your tolerance, nor do I want to find that out by you puking on me.”

Dahlia sniffs, obviously offended. “I’ve never puked on anyone after a drink.”

“Look, you’ve had alcohol before, so missing it on your twenty-first birthday is not going to be a hardship.”

“That’s beside the point! I—”

I raise my hand to silence her. “Would you like a drink, or do you want to go home? The choice is yours. I will have the final say.”

Bowing her head, she mumbles an apology, but not before I catch a glint of mischief flashing through her eyes. “Coke is fine. No ice, please.”

“Good girl.”

I wait another moment for the bartender to get me my drink. The amber liquid swirls in an intoxicating way inside the glass as I tip it back and forth. Then I down it in one shot.

Slamming the cup down, I look around for Bentley. Catching his eye, I nod to a nearby corner. I keep one eye on Dahlia as I make my way over. The furtive looks I’m shooting around make me feel like I’m in a damned spy movie but, if I’m honest with myself, it’s more excitement than I’ve had in a long time.

“I’ll be honest,” Bentley murmurs, rubbing his jaw, “I wasn’t expecting a call from you.” He gestures to the vampires and their guests as they file in. “Several of them, oh yeah, but I’ve never seen you so much as look at another submissive. You don’t even avail yourself of the sweetbloods. So tell me, what are your intentions with this collar?” He pulls out a silver band, studded with tiny rubies, with a larger one hanging in the center, and chains ending in rubies shaped like blood drops hanging in intervals around the edges. The lights in the club shine on the delicate work, setting the stones ablaze. The collar will look perfect on my spitfire.

Bentley levels a stare at me, and an uncomfortable itch starts at the base of my spine and works its way up. I know he can read my mind, and I have nothing to hide, but it’s still disconcerting to have your thoughts dissected in such an efficient manner.