Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
It was right then that Viper spotted her on camera. She was shouldering her way through the throngs of people on the lower level with her sister at her back, glancing around curiously. And she looked fucking edible in a little black dress that was more of a shirt.
Viper looked at Jester. “Tell the boys on the ground floor to put the word out that she’s not to be touched.”
Jester nodded, his gaze then going inward as he telepathically reached out.
Satisfied, Viper turned back to the security monitor.
“Wonder why she’d come here of all places to hook up with someone,” Omen pondered, sidling up to Viper. “It’s not her usual scene.”
No, it wasn’t, from what Viper had observed of her habits. She didn’t go clubbing often. She seemed to prefer low-key bars and dives. Yet, there she was.
He stared at her image on the screen. You shouldn’t have come here, baby. She couldn’t waltz into his metaphorical den like this. Couldn’t put herself in his path. He only had so much restraint.
“You gonna go talk to her?” asked Omen.
Viper turned away from the monitors. “You already know the answer to that question.” While he was determined that she wouldn’t get pulled into his world just yet, he wasn’t going to hang back in his office and act like she wasn’t here.
Plus, he wouldn’t have to worry that any strix would see him near her here. None would dare come inside the club.
“Then you’re going to feed, right?” pushed Jester, giving him a solemn look. “We can’t have you going without. Bloodlust will hit—”
“I told you earlier that I’ll feed tonight, and I will.”
Pursing his lips, Omen lifted his shoulders. “You could drink from Ella.”
The idea was far too tempting. Viper could easily remove the memory of it from her mind afterwards, so he wouldn’t be revealing his secrets too soon. But … “I want her to give me her blood willingly, not because she’s under a thrall.” That wasn’t possible just yet.
“Fine,” Jester grunted. “But I don’t see why it matters, just as I don’t see why you’re delaying—”
“I’m well aware of what you think. I don’t need to hear it again.”
Jester shrugged. “I like repeating myself.”
“I’ve noticed. But saying the same stuff again and again doesn’t make you right, it just makes you repetitive.”
“Also annoying,” Omen tacked on.
Jester shot him an even look, unbothered. “I don’t live to please others. I don’t even make an effort to please myself, so why the fuck would I care if you’re annoyed?”
Omen’s head flicked to the side. “You know, I overheard a female demon telling her friend that you’re the most unpleasant person she’s ever met.”
“Again, why would I care?”
“It’s not about whether or not you should care,” Omen stressed, “it’s about whether or not you want to alienate yourself from the world at large. Is that your grand plan?”
“Yes. Though I don’t consider it a plan, more of a calling. And it isn’t grand, it’s relatively simple—I shouldn’t really have to point that out.”
Rubbing at the center of his forehead, Viper sighed. “Right, I’m heading off to find Ella. If you’re gonna tag along, be sure to keep your distance so I get some private time with her.”
“Okay, but let me just say that he”—Omen jabbed a finger in Jester’s direction—“needs an attitude adjustment or he’s gonna walk through life alone. He might think he wants that now, but there’ll come a day when he’ll regret it.”
“Unlikely,” said Jester. “Very, very unlikely.”
Yeah, Viper would have to agree with that.
Ella had been to a fair amount of clubs in her day. None had been quite like this one. It spanned five floors, each featuring a dance floor that streamed through several ultra-spacious rooms, like a wide road.
The club’s color scheme was simple enough, sticking to varying shades of red and black. There was lots of chrome, leather, and dark woods. The consistency in style tied the rooms together, making each one feel like a continuation of the last rather than a separate space.
Every room boasted a bar, seating areas, and shadowy alcoves. A film of fog ran throughout, providing some cover for those who might wish to tuck themselves into a corner and enjoy a little privacy.
There was one thing the venue had in common with other clubs. It was hectic. People were everywhere. Not just at the bar or on the dance floor or sitting at the tables. The place was packed with clubbers.
Her demon, no more a fan of crowds than Ella, wanted out of here. Soon, she promised it. Which didn’t improve its mood, since it wasn’t a patient being.
The bass of the loud music thumping beneath her feet, she made her way through the crowds to the long, busy bar. Passing an alcove, she caught movement in her peripheral vision; noticed a guy kissing a woman’s neck while she moaned in delight. He was one of the Black Saints, going by the patch on his jacket.