Shift Happens (A Carus Novel Book 1) (17 page)

Wick might know if another Vampire horde stayed in town. I just had to ask him, but that meant trusting him as well.
Nope. Not happening
. I’d have to find out on my own.

The sun, a little passed its zenith, meant a few more hours of daylight, and one less day to figure out what The Purge was going on.

Out of sight from the norms, I changed to my falcon again and flew over the honking, bumper-to-bumper vehicles filled with cursing, road-raging drivers, before making my way back to the wolf den. Maybe I’d be lucky to make it to my room without running into Wick. I practically fled the house this morning in an attempt to avoid him.

Maybe he’d still be at work.

What did he do all day?

Careening sharply to the left, I narrowly avoided hitting a telephone pole. I couldn’t believe I didn’t know what Wick did for a living. I’d assumed he did Lucien’s bidding, but that wouldn’t pay the bills or explain why he was away during the day, every day. He had a job. He worked. And I had no idea where.

Why didn’t I realize this sooner?

In my defense, I did have other, more pressing things on my mind—like escaping Wick’s house, then surviving Lucien and now finding Landen’s real employer to escape Clint. All the escaping in my life consumed a lot of energy and apparently my attention to detail.

Approaching the house I decided asking Wick about his career path would have to wait, because I needed to avoid him at all costs. He wouldn’t approve of my plan to go information digging in a Vampire bar—if he saw me in a vamp-tramp outfit, there was no way his possessive alpha instincts would let me out of the house.

****

The image reflecting from the mirror made me smile and come to the conclusion I’d missed my true calling in life. If I could ignore my heightened sense of smell and the stench of Vampires, I could’ve been arm candy for one. The style of their ‘lady friends’ suited me. The tight leather pants, corset and knee high-boots screamed working professional, or at least skank, in the norm world, but I didn’t plan to go to a norm bar.

One of my biggest guilty pleasures was to dress up like this, and no woman could truly deny her inner vixen when she had a chance to let her out—what else explained why sweet reserved girls dressed up in slutty attires every Halloween? Any opportunity to scout a target in a Vampire bar, I’d take it. I couldn’t bring myself to wear this kind of crap on a regular basis—it screamed trying too hard. Besides, leather was difficult to get off in a rush, especially with sweat involved. And who didn’t sweat in head-to-toe leather?

Demons, my brain answered. Demons didn’t sweat.

The clothes I usually wore allowed movement and ripped easily. Not tonight. I banked on getting through the evening without the need to shift. I had to be on my best behaviour.

My muscles quivered as my stomach rolled. Best behaviour? Who did I kid? I seldom prayed to the beast Goddess, Feradea, but I took a moment to do so. I needed all the help I could get.

Opening the doorway a crack, I made sure the hallway was clear. Wick paced and mumbled in his room and I sensed no one downstairs.

This is your chance.

I slunk down the stairs and picked my purse up on the way to the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Wick’s voice boomed behind me.

I stopped in my tracks.

“Well?” he said. I imagined him crossing his arms.

Slowly turning to face him, I discovered I was right. “Last time I checked, it was no business of yours.”

His eyebrows rose as he took in my outfit. Then his muscles tensed. With flushed cheeks and twitching fists, he looked torn between being turned on and angry. I had that effect on him.

“If you start bringing customers to my house, it will be.” His mouth quirked.

“Are you implying that I look like a prostitute?”

“Are you arguing you don’t?”

Opening my purse, I dug around for the car keys as an excuse to break eye contact. “There’s a fine line between a high class escort…” I paused and dared him to suggest I could look like another kind of working class woman. “And a vamp-tramp.”

“Vamp-tramp!” He sputtered the label a little and then glared. “You’re flouncing off to a vamp bar?”

“Reconnaissance,” I explained.

“No,” Wick stated.

“No?” My eyebrow rose.

“That’s what I said.”

When I remained silent, he put his arms on his hips and his lips flattened into a hard line. “You will not go out looking like that.”

“You’re not my father.” I turned and walked out the door, desperately trying to reassure myself I wasn’t acting like a pubescent teenager pushing boundaries. Okay. Maybe I tried to push Wick a little, but not in the same way.

I didn’t make it far down the driveway before an iron hand gripped my upper arm and spun me around. His fingers dug into my skin, but not to the point of causing pain.
He grabs my arms a lot.
When I looked up, I faced the glowing yellow eyes of Wick’s wolf. Feradea obviously ignored my plea. Best behaviour ran off into the sunset. I was about to be bad. Very bad.

His mouth crushed down on mine. All thoughts flew from my mind as his arms reached around and pressed me against his hard body. His mouth demanded a response and boy did he get it.

This man could kiss.

“You should get a room for that,” John’s sarcastic voice pierced the night.

Untangling my body from Wick, I stepped away and glared at John, wanting nothing more than to shove my fist into the Werewolf’s solar plexus, to hell with him being in Wick’s inner circle. In truth, I should’ve thanked him for the interruption. With so much electricity pent up between me and Wick, it took little to unleash it.

Should I run upstairs to change my panties?

Then again, I might be able to use that to my advantage. Vamps tended to babble more when they thought they’d get some action.

“John,” Wick growled. It came out slowly through clenched teeth.

“Alpha,” John nodded, looking pleased.

Wick turned to me, arms held taunt to his side. “I’m going with you.” Statement. Fact. Not a request.
Fucking alphas.
I should be hella pissed at his dominance act, but adrenalin ran through my traitorous body and my mind started flying through
all
the possibilities.

John cleared his throat. The door to the black sedan behind John slammed and Jess walked up to stand beside her mate and took his hand. The simple, sweet gesture caused something to churn in my gut. They both turned to Wick, expectation evident on their faces.

Wick cursed. “The meeting.”

“Did you forget?” Jess asked.

“He had other things on his mind, love,” John spoke into her hair. His voice muffled with the proximity, but being supes we all heard.

“Did I miss something?” Jess asked. Her eyes ping-ponged between the three of us. Her gaze took in my outfit before settling on my face. “Going out?”

She meant the outfit.

“Yes, I have something important to get to,” I said. Turning to Wick, I gave a megawatt smile. “Enjoy your meeting!”

“Andy,” Wick hissed through his teeth.

I did a model spin while I pranced away to give him an innocent smile. “Don’t wait up.” The toodaloo wave was probably over the top, gauging Wick’s expression.

“This isn’t over, Andy,” Wick warned.

His glare could have burned a hole in my back, but I had somewhere I needed to go, information I needed to glean. I couldn’t do it with a hot and horny alpha breathing down my neck, distracting me and intimidating others.

****

The vamp bar, situated in the heart of Gastown, didn’t resemble the warehouse where I’d met my handler in any way. With an immortal existence, the vamp owner of this establishment should’ve had a better imagination, but no. He called it Hell. The ground level entrance on the corner of an all-window building consisted of double doors, a foyer where two intimidating Vampire bouncers stood and a spiral case that led down into the basement. Music could be heard when the door at the base of the stairs opened to admit more people. Textbook fire hazard, with one exit.

By walking through the doors at the bottom of the staircase, patrons accepted responsibility for their own stupidity and if any emergency happened, they waived the proprietor's liability for any injury or damage. No one in their right mind would try to make a claim against Vampires, but just in case, they had a vamp lawyer escort all non-vamps down the stairs and explain the rules, spewing out all the legalities.

The rest of the building sitting above the club conducted daytime business. Mostly lawyers. Go figure.

The norms ahead of me in line reeked of crayons and sickly sweet sweat, making my eyes twitch. Unlike vamps, that particular mix of excitement and fear did not entice me. It didn’t turn me on and make me want to bite. I would’ve been a terrible vamp.

Tapping my foot, I glanced at my watch. I’d been in line for ten minutes, and I hated lines. If this had been a norm bar, I would’ve gone to the front and used my charm to skip the line. Vamp bars were no different in that respect, but these bouncers likely required more than some harmless flirtation and the vague promise of getting more later. They’d want blood.

I had no intention of giving any. Thomas Leroy had been my first boyfriend in high school. Both fifteen, the relationship lasted all of four days. He slobbered all over my face and stuck his tongue down my throat. The final straw had been when he left a giant hickey the size of a baseball on my neck. Since then, there’d been no interest of my part to ever have anything or anyone suck on my neck.

I checked my watch again. Eleven minutes. Eyeing the door guards, I wondered if there could be another way to get in that didn’t involve exchanging fluids of any kind. I checked behind me. Not many had joined the line, so it wouldn’t be a huge loss if I got turned away, but it would be humiliating. Everyone, including myself, laughed at girls who thought they were hot enough to skip the line only to get rejected.

The two male bouncers at the door didn’t look like they had any personality. Still, worth a try. I tucked my purse under my arm, tilted my chin up and walked to the front of the line. When I passed the women in line, they wore pissy looks, and I could tell without asking what they thought of me:

Who does she think she is?

She’s not that hot.

I bet she gets turned away.

“Hello, gentlemen,” I said. Planting both my feet firmly, I squared off. My body posture indicated this wasn’t an attempt at seduction or blood offer.

Both men turned their vacant expressions on me.

“Can we help you?” the one on the right asked. His name tag said Justin. He was a large black man. His teeth were pearly white and a sharp contrast to his dark skin. He had a French accent. I loved accents.

“I’m here on business,” I stated.

“Business with whom?” the vamp on the left asked. He had some sort of eastern European accent and looked the part with Slavic good looks. His name tag said Dmitri. How fitting.

“Not with, but for,” I said. They looked confused. “I’m here on business for Lucien,” I clarified.

Dmitri laughed. “Nice try,” he said.

“Anyone can throw the master vamp’s name around,” Justin said. “You’re not the first to try.”

“Ah, but I
am
on business for Lucien.”

Both Vampires shook their heads.

Sighing, I crossed my arms. I was not willing to admit defeat yet. “Did you hear what happened to Clint?” I asked.

The bouncers straightened up. Lucien’s name might be common knowledge, but his human servant’s was not. Justin gave an imperceptible nod.

“You are a part of Lucien’s horde, are you not?”

Another nod. This time from Dmitri.

“So you know the contractor was caught and brought before the horde two nights ago?”

“Yes,” Dmitri hissed.

“But neither of you were there,” I said.

Justin frowned. “How would you know that?”

“Because you would have recognized me.”

Their stances changed from relaxed and slightly bored to attentive. Being the unwavering focus of two large Vampires was unsettling. Not new or unexpected, but still caused my feras to pace in my head.

Kill.
My cat hissed.

Let me out.
My wolf demanded.

My falcon gave an indignant squawk. She wanted to spread her wings and fly free.

Sometimes I had to tune them out or I’d go crazy. Crazy with a side of fries.

“You?” Justin eyed me.

“Me,” I said. “And if you know what happened the other night, you’ll know that I was set on a task by Lucien. One that I don’t have time to wait for in line.” I indicated with my chin to the line behind me. The norms had no idea what was going on or the words we exchanged. We spoke softly, too low for their non-supe ears to hear.

The bouncers exchanged a look and as one, stood back to allow me admittance down the stairs. I smiled, happy that I didn’t have to take the next step of threatening them with Lucien’s discipline.

“Do you know the rules?” Justin asked.

“Yes,” I said and stalked down the spiral stairs to enter Hell.

The rules were simple. No prolonged eye contact, no exposed necks, no going into the private enclaves or down to the dungeons, and no agreeing to anything proposed by a Vampire, no matter how innocent it sounded. Of course, these weren’t the rules the lawyer told the awestruck norm patrons as he led them down the stairs. He made them verbally acknowledge the establishment would not and could not be held liable or accountable for anything that transpired within its grounds and the surrounding area up to a kilometer away. He also warned if they agreed to something, they had to follow through with it. The SRD and local police had no jurisdiction in a Vampire establishment when the food entered willingly. Come down here and you’re on your own.

When the cookie-cutter bouncers at the bottom of the stairwell opened the doors, I stepped into the dark and dank realm of the Vampires. With the lighting low and red, the bass of the music thumped heavy in my chest like a second heart beat. Vamps had no qualms about playing to their stereotype and cashed in on it instead. The place smelled of the burnt sugar, sour air, musky coconut, crayons and fear—the last overpowering the rest.