This Side of the Grave (Night Huntress, #5)(18)

Though possibilities lurked there, too . . .

“Let’s, um, go find our reporter friend,” I said, the words hitching as a breeze made his scent wash over me in a swell of lust-fragranced air. I couldn’t resist a quick, longing glance at the car before I gave myself a mental slap. Mind out of the gutter, Trampzilla! People to see, bad ghouls to stop, remember?

Bones took in a long breath, making me wonder if the air was also tinged with my arousal. Probably. Scent was a more obvious indicator of desire for vampires than a man with a hard-on tenting his pants was for humans.

“Right,” he said, the single word edged with a hint of roughness. Then he folded his aura in, the invisible energy around him decreasing until only the faint tingles of an average vampire remained. At the same time, my link to his emotions ceased, as abrupt as a cell phone dropping a call. Only very old vampires or Masters had the ability to camouflage their power levels, which made them even more dangerous. Bones might want us to eventually be recognized, but it seemed we were going in low-profile to start.

We walked up to the entrance of Bite. The line of humans waiting to get in was smaller than usual, but I chalked that up to it being Wednesday night instead of a weekend. We didn’t wait at the back, our lack of pulses the same as being on the VIP list here. But once we were close enough for the tall, brawny female bouncer to notice us, she held out her hand.

“Stay right there. Verses is pissed at you two.”

Bones gave the vampire his most charming smile. “Now, Trixie, he can’t still be sore over that trifling incident.”

Her mouth opened in disbelief, showing off her gold-plated incisors. “Trifling? You guys demolished the parking lot!”

“At least fetch him so he can tell us to sod off himself, if that’s how he feels about it,” Bones replied, still with that same effortless smile.

Trixie let out an exasperated noise, but she barked out a comment telling someone I couldn’t see to get the owner. After a few moments, a large black ghoul appeared, a thoroughly unwelcoming expression on his face.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming back here—” Verses began.

“Come now, mate, that wasn’t our fault and you know it,” Bones interrupted, clapping him on the back. “Could’ve happened to anyone, but we’re only here now to do a bit of drinking and dancing.”

If possible, the ghoul’s mocha features darkened even more. “Don’t think because we’ve been friends for eighty years that I’m dumb enough to believe that. This place is meant to be a time-out for all our species. No violence on the premises, and the parking lot is still the premises!”

“I’m really sorry about what happened before, but we won’t even bend a drink straw the wrong way this time,” I chimed in, giving Verses my most winning smile.

“Indeed,” Bones added, his own grin widening. “On my honor, mate.”

“And on your credit card, if anything so much as gets dented,” Verses shot back before letting out a grunt. “Fine. Come in, but don’t make me regret it.”

At first glance, even people who couldn’t feel the vibrations that the undead patrons gave off could guess that Bite wasn’t a typical club. For one, the random bursts of lights across the ceiling were far more muted than in a normal club, plus the interior was darker than what legal guidelines would allow. The music also wasn’t painfully loud to my ears, another concession to the heightened senses vampires and ghouls had.

But the most notable difference was that the bars weren’t the only places where patrons could get drinks. In booths, on the dance floor, and even in corners, couples held each other in embraces that, upon closer look, were more predatory than passionate. The scent of blood flavored the air with a faint, coppery tang, probably tickling Bones’s taste buds but doing nothing for mine because it was human blood, not vampire.

“How long do you want to wait before we split up?” I murmured to Bones once we were away from Verses. If Bite’s owner did still happen to be watching us, we couldn’t have him getting suspicious if we immediately separated after we’d stressed that we were here just for recreation.

“Let’s start with a few drinks. Then perhaps you can go powder your nose and take the long way back. After that, I’ll find someone to take a nip from, and I’ll be quite picky about my choice,” he replied in equally soft tones.

Sounded like a plan to me. After all, both of us would recognize the reporter on sight, if he was here. I let Bones lead me to the bar, glad that so far, only my thoughts rattled around in my mind. I hoped with the high percentage of patrons in this club being undead, if I did start picking up on any stray thoughts, I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed like at the mall. Guess there were benefits to frequenting places filled with my own kind instead of having mostly humans around me.

My own kind. How strange that I felt that way now. I’d spent the first sixteen years of my life not knowing about my mixed heritage, then the next six years hating vampires until I met Bones. Now, at twenty-nine, I’d been a full vampire for less than a year, but I almost couldn’t remember what it had been like to think of myself as human. I hadn’t felt that way since my mother first told me why I was different from everyone else.

“Gin and tonic, plus a whiskey, neat,” Bones told the bartender.

Oddly enough, that made me smile. Some things didn’t change, after all.