Kiss Me Forever - M.J. O'Shea Page 0,9

opulent, like something out of Avery’s steampunkiest dreams. Velvet curtains and fixtures were everywhere, all burnished gold and cranberry and antiqued brass.

Odd clothing seemed to be the norm, and there were bartenders with old-fashioned vests and garters on their sleeves. Macy grabbed Avery’s hand for a moment while they both gaped before Donovan led them to a booth he announced was “his.”

“Do you, like, own this booth?” Vaughn asked.

He gingerly sat down on plush velvet that matched the curtains and the walls. Yeah, the walls were covered in thick, expensive velvet as well. There was an actual oil lamp on the booth’s table, and strings of Edison bulbs hanging from the ceiling. It was downright romantic. Avery felt very out of place.

“Something like that.” Donovan gave him a small smirk.

Avery had to admit that Macy’s taste was rather impeccable. A long look at Donovan showed that, well, the guy was gorgeous, just like he’d thought back at the first bar. Totally not Macy’s style, if he was to guess, but gorgeous all the same. He had that hipster with a heart of gold thing going on, dark jeans, tattoos, leather jacket open over a T-shirt, hair a little too long to be modern—kind of like Aramis meets Sherlock or something.

The guy wasn’t his style either, but he had to appreciate. Donovan raised his hand slightly, and in moments there was a server at their table.

“What would you guys like to drink?” Donovan asked.

Avery thought about protesting. He was so far out of his element, and another drink would put him into non-lucid territory, even after the break the cab ride over had given him.

“We do have a few specials, sugar,” the server said.

She leaned over and put her hands on the table. She was dressed simply in a retro low-cut tight black sheath that hugged her curves and ended at her knees, but there was something about her too, just like Donovan, just like this bar. He... wished he could put his finger on it, but it sure wasn’t ordinary. The server had platinum blonde hair curled up like a pinup from the ’40s. A quick glance told him she had on fishnet stockings and heels too. There really was one of everything in the bar. Avery found himself wanting to reach out and stroke the smooth, pale skin of her arm. She caught him looking and giggled.

“Can you get a round of Nightcrawlers?” Donovan asked.

“For you? Of course.” She winked and walked away.

“What did you just order us?” Vaughn asked.

He looked just as out of sorts as Avery felt.

“It’s good. You’ll like it.” Donovan watched them quietly freak out for a second and then chuckled. “I promise. You’ll be fine. It’s just a specialty of the bartender. He’s an old friend.”

“How old?” Avery muttered. He suddenly had visions of his students and talks of vampires and ghosts.

Stop it.

Donovan just chuckled again and then returned his attention to Macy, who was staring around the place just like Avery and Vaughn.

“Can you believe this?” Vaughn whispered to Avery.

“No. I feel like we’ve entered some alternate universe. It seems almost like... it should be impossible. Should all of this actually be able to fit behind that building façade? Every time I look, it gets bigger.”

“I don’t have a clue. Where did all these people come from?”

Avery hadn’t looked in detail much past the server and Donovan, but as he scanned the room, he noticed there were... things he couldn’t explain. People could’ve stepped off the pages of Dracula chatting with others in jeans and T-shirts, drinks that seemed to not quite empty even when Avery watched people take a long sip, odd doors jutting off to the side, and the people. The people. It was the most intensely strange experience of his life, watching them swirl around him. So many of them were just... beautiful. Like model beautiful. Avery had never seen that many beautiful people in one room in his life.

“Do you suddenly feel like you’re in a movie?” Vaughn asked.

“Or an acid trip.”

Across the table, Macy giggled and snuggled her face into Donovan’s neck. Giggled. Macy. It was so unlike her. Macy had always been more sexy and seductive. This ingénue thing she had going on was like watching someone with her face and a completely different personality.

“Here are your drinks, darlings,” their server said. She leaned over and kissed Donovan on the head, then wandered off.

“Do you know her well?” Macy asked.

“Brooke?” Donovan laughed. “Years. We’re like brother and