Freak Show (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #7)(17)

A soft moan echoed from behind the curtain. The twenty-minute show had felt like hours. Finally, it was over. If she wasn’t dead yet, she soon would be.

Chapter Five

Several seconds passed before the lights came on. Ushers appeared to herd everyone out a rear exit, opposite the way we’d come in. Except for us.

Roscoe approached from a door behind the stage. Leather clad and bearded, he strode toward us with a swagger that made me certain he owned a motorbike. He headed us off before I could follow the rest of the crowd. Too bad.

We were on our feet, looking at one another with wide eyes. Arys held tight to my arm, keeping me close. He pushed a calming energy into me, and I grabbed on as if it were a life raft during a flood. I vibrated so hard with the effort it took to hold myself together that my teeth nearly rattled.

“Jenner wants to see you backstage,” Roscoe said, the dim light glinting off his golden fang. He waited expectantly for us to get moving.

Arys fell into step beside the burly vampire, walking with an angry stride. “When the hell did he start this crazy train? Feeding in front of humans is ballsy. He should know better.”

“He does.” Roscoe shrugged. “He just doesn’t care.”

Backstage was a dressing room clearly designed for private parties of the bloodletting kind. Spacious and open, swanky sofas lined the walls. The carpet was dark and lush. But in my current state of mind, the vampiress feeding from a half-naked man captured my attention. This place was going to be the death of me.

Sloane looked up abruptly as we entered. She released her hold on the man’s bleeding arm and gave him a shove. “Go now. I’ll send for you later.”

He slipped by us and out the door without a backward glance. Sloane licked the small drops of blood from her lips with a dainty swipe of her tongue. She smiled and reached to smooth her hair.

“Have a seat.” She gestured to the sofas and matching easy chair. “Jenner’s just cleaning up from his performance.”

“Performance?” Arys refused to sit. He stood stiffly, arms crossed and jaw clenched. “Is that what he calls it?”

Sloane eyed him, amusement shining in her cerulean eyes. “Death is an art, baby. You know that. You do it better than any of us.”

“Don’t sweet talk me, Sloane. I’m not in the mood. You’re an idiot to participate in this exploitation.”

I chose not to follow Arys’s lead. My legs were shaking, and my entire body hummed with the pent up power I’d called during Jenner’s little show. I needed to sit down. Shaz sat beside me, but Jez placed herself opposite Arys where she could watch both Sloane and the door.

Roscoe leaned against the doorframe, staring at his cell phone. There was something about vampires and technology that made me giggle. Some of them were adept at change; others were so behind the times it was laughable.

“If anyone is being exploited, it’s the mortal suckers that show up to see something they can only read about in trendy books that pollute the beauty of what we are.” Sloane crossed one leg over the other, turning that simple action into a sensual display. “Simmer down, Arys. You saw his tame show. That was nothing. People love it. They tell themselves it’s not real, that it’s an act, the illusions of Vegas. But they know the truth. Deep down inside. And they enjoy it.”

“Why are you still here?” Arys asked, pinning her with a knowing stare. “You used to talk so much about leaving.”

“As did you,” she agreed. “I suppose you had a reason to go. Everything I have is here.”

They fell silent, both of them remembering a time before any of the shifters present had lived. Though she was otherwise cool and composed, a dark shadow passed through Sloane’s eyes.

Just when the silence became ridiculously awkward, Jenner swept into the room. His hair was disheveled, but he was dressed, thankfully. Exuding a heavy, sticky sweet energy, he glided through the room as if his feet never touched the ground.

Swiftly, he caught Sloane around the waist and lifted her out of the chair before sitting down himself with her on his lap. An irritated frown creased her brow, but she settled in against him, going so far as to sling an arm around his neck.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jenner directed his question at Arys. Then his shifty eyes slid over me on the couch. “I know you did.” When I didn’t respond, he added, “Hot damn, those eyes are fascinating.”

With the power raging through me, my eyes had to be Arys’s vampire blue. I relaxed into the couch and brazenly reached out metaphysically to taste Jenner. It was rude, but I didn’t care. Manners didn’t strike me as the kind of thing Jenner cultivated.

His power was vast, impressive. It felt like Harley’s, which was a bit different from how Arys felt. I could only assume that Arys’s link to me gave him a different flavor. The power was deep and alluring, beckoning to me. He was likely the most powerful vampire in the city, as long as Arys wasn’t around.

He sat there watching me as I psychically prodded him, not attempting to shield against me. “Find anything you like?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” I was flippant, wanting him to know he couldn’t play with me. His sire had loved to play. Harley had caused all kinds of hell for me. I wouldn’t allow Jenner to do the same.

Trailing a hand up and down Sloane’s thigh, Jenner grinned. “My turn.”