He was taking me to A Feast. I wasn’t ready for A Feast, I was pretty sure.
“You’re understood,” I mumbled regardless of my newfound terror, making an attempt to instill in my tone the reverence Breed used, thinking this would annoy him greatly.
Apparently, it worked. His head turned sharply to the side and his fingers dug into the flesh around my elbow painfully.
When I looked up to him, forcing my face into what I hoped was innocence mixed with eagerness (Wats and Breed had given me a great idea), I saw his eyes narrow and his mouth grow tight.
He, and thus I, remained silent as we descended the first staircase. And the second. And the third.
At the end of the fourth, Lucien guided me into my first Feast.
I saw immediately there was a reason Wats and Breed weren’t down here. The place was a crush of beautiful people. Not thin. Not gaunt. Not heavy. Not ill-kept.
Perfect.
I didn’t know where the vampires ended and the mortals began.
And all of them were dressed impeccably. The men in tuxedos or well-cut suits, the women in evening gowns. There was no one there that looked hopeful and desperate to be chosen. No overabundance of jewels and finery. The people here were too cool, too elegant, too polished to exhibit themselves in a way that would cry for attention.
The people were the only thing about the place that was elegant.
It looked like it was made out of cement, all of it, including the bar that ran along the length of one side. The shelves at the back were glass however, covered in bottles of liquor and different shaped glasses, backlit with red lights as was the rest of the place, all of it illuminated by very dim, red lights.
The music was loud. Not rock ‘n’ roll but slow, throbbing and seductive.
As unassuming as it was, the room seemed alive as a hum of conversation ran low under the music. People were standing and talking or moving gracefully between the tightly packed bodies.
There was what amounted to a dance floor but the dancers weren’t exactly dancing. I found my attention riveted to them as I watched the bodies move, pressed tight, swaying against each other suggestively, hands moving, reaching, touching. Faces tucked into necks, lips and, even from my distance I saw a few glistening tongues gliding along jaws, cheekbones, temples, shoulders, other lips. It didn’t seem there were couples but like the group was one, a whole, anyone who joined it would be pulled into what amounted to mass foreplay.
No wonder Edwina, who thought of her girls as good girls, didn’t want them to come here.
I couldn’t believe Lucien brought me here.
Not that I had any problem with this kind of thing, it just wasn’t my scene.
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if this was also part of my punishment when he dropped my arm, caught my hand in his and he drove forward, propelling us through the bodies.
His grip was sure and strong as he pulled me through.
I saw people turn to him and nod acknowledgement. A few mouthed greetings.
I also saw people studying me, faces impassive, eyes scanning, too sophisticated to be overt but still betraying their curiosity.
Lucien stopped at the bar and, with a tug on my hand, yanked me through the final throng. In a tiny patch of free space, he curled his arm, whirling me so my back was plastered to his front, his arm tight around my waist, his hand still in mine and he didn’t let me go.
“What are you drinking tonight, pet?” he asked, his mouth bent to my ear and it pissed me off his deep voice sounding against my skin made me shiver.
I twisted my head and his came up to give it room to move.
I got up on tiptoes and sought his ear where I answered, “What do you want me to drink?”
Reflexively his arm tightened at my waist as his head shot up and his eyes scanned my face in the red light.
Then he looked away, clearly angry and jerked his chin at the bartender.
It was then I decided maybe I was laying it on a bit thick.
He looked back down at me, dipping his face close, his forehead touching mine, his mouth a breath away.