Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(39)
Christian tilted my chin up with the crook of his finger. “No, but I do. You be careful out there tonight. You’ll be attracting all sorts in those leathers.”
“I’ll stay on the dance floor if you think that’s the safest place.” I could barely contain the amusement in my voice. On our previous visit, I’d danced to some booty-popping stripper song with a man who had octopus arms. Usually Christian stayed in the shadows or in another room, but that was the closest he’d come to blowing his cover, and I enjoyed every second of it.
“You don’t think this outfit is a bit much?” he asked. “What about the long skirt we talked about? This is hardly submissive.”
“If our guy is scouring occult websites where humans fantasize about the undead, the last person they’d expect to show up is a demure wallflower.”
He kissed my bare shoulder.
“I have something for you,” I said. Butterflies fluttered around my middle.
Christian traced his finger down my neck. “Mmm. Indeed you do.”
I reached in my pocket and palmed the object. “It only seems fair to give you something in return for the necklace.”
He lowered his gaze to my hand. My fingers opened like a budding flower, revealing a ring. The silver band had intricate details in the shoulder and mounting, but the real focal point was the hypnotic oval stone in the center. It drew you in like a deep pool of water under a midnight moon.
“It’s onyx,” I said. “It reminded me of your eyes.”
He gave me a guarded look. “You bought me a ring?”
“It-It’s not a wedding ring,” I heard myself say. My God, could this get any more awkward? I’d never given a man a gift before, and nothing seemed sufficient to match the value of my ruby necklace. “Sorry it’s not worth millions.”
He collected the ring between two fingers and held it up to the light.
“It’s not even new,” I admitted. I genuinely couldn’t read his impassive expression, but I wasn’t exactly selling the ring by admitting it was secondhand. “If you don’t like it—”
“It’s a fine ring. I’ll treasure it.” The ring slid down his middle finger, and he pushed it to the base. It couldn’t have been a better fit, and he clenched his hand in a fist and admired it.
“I’m glad you like it. I had to trade a good pair of shoes for the stone.”
His eyes flicked up. “Where did you get this?”
“The Bricks.”
“Underground?” he said tersely. “You went there alone?”
“I don’t need a nanny any more than you do. I went to that abandoned area and down into the tunnels. I didn’t run into any trouble. Wore a hood, took a few things for bartering, and kept my eyes to the ground—just like you told me to do. I got it from the old man who sold us the magic rocks. I remembered how he had some nice stones, and he let me pick out one for the setting. So I guess it’s sort of new.”
“Is there something wrong with going to a jewelry store?”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” I nudged his arm. “Come on. I have some new sexy pants to break in.”
Christian led me through the doorway. “Try not to kill anyone with your atrocious dance moves.”
I hooked my arm in his. “I never make promises I can’t keep.”
Chapter 11
I elbowed past a few women in the dingy bathroom of High Jinx to claim one of the mirrors. After two hours of dancing, I’d smudged my black eyeliner. So I did a quick fix to play up my eyes and look like less of a raccoon in heat. Just in case our black marketeer was skulking in the shadows, I’d made a concerted effort to look everyone in the eye. There was always a possibility our Vampire had other human clubs he shopped in, but since he’d mentioned this one in particular, I had a feeling he was comfortable here.
I hadn’t seen Boomer—the lumberjack with the wraparound sunglasses—since that night. So far, he was my top suspect. I just needed to bump into him again to confirm my suspicions were right on the money.
My ruby necklace sparkled beneath the lights. It didn’t take long to realize that most people couldn’t tell a real stone from a fake. Every so often I thought about the value and had an urge to clutch it, but the sentiment behind it meant more to me than the cost. After touching up my eyeliner, I dropped the pencil into my clutch and checked myself out in the mirror. Thanks to the dank club, my hair’s natural wave was in full effect. I mashed my blood-red lips together and instinctively reached to check my weapons, suddenly remembering I wasn’t armed.
Another reason I’d brought my eyeliner pencil. I wasn’t certain that it was made from the type of wood that worked as an impalement weapon on a Vampire, but it was the only thing I could put in my clutch that wouldn’t raise suspicion if I ran into him and he searched my bag.
Assuming I’d ever meet this mystery trafficker.
All of this was dredging up bad memories of when I was turned. I thought I’d had a choice, but my maker duped me. Just like everyone else brought into the Breed world illegally.
“I love those pants,” one girl said, leaning back to get a better look. “They make your ass look great.”
“I’d be happy to give them to you.”