EXCERPT

“Deena.” I tried not to wince as I called out. One word—simply saying her name—made my entire head hurt. “I’m going out the back. I need a minute.”

“What?” She glanced in my direction. “Please tell me you’re not getting sick again. We need you behind the bar!”

I didn’t respond, cashing out a Rum and Coke. As soon as I finished, I hauled ass out of the bar. The strobe lights burned my eyes, so intense they were almost blinding. I stared at the floor, hoping it would help. When I saw dark marks from dirty shoes that had probably stepped in dog shit at some point, my stomach lurched.

Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up.

I made it to the dark curtain at the back and tossed the obtrusive material aside. The smell of stale smoke shot up my nose. I covered my mouth, palming my lips, barreling past Lacey as I raced for the bathroom.

If I didn’t hurry, I wouldn’t make it.

As soon as I reached my destination, I slammed the door closed with a deafening boom, lunged for the toilet, and landed on my knees. Nothing was inside my gut but vitamin water from a couple of hours before, but it came right up. I gasped for air as tears streamed down my face. My stomach kept spasming, my head feeling like a jackhammer was trapped inside it.

“Rhiannon?” Lacey’s voice was blessedly muffled on the other side of the door. “Is everything all right?”

“S’okay,” I mumbled and cleared my throat. “I guess I’m still sick.”

Her footsteps retreated and I collapsed, the right side of my body hitting the wall. The linoleum was cold, but I didn’t dare look down. I was certain it was filthy, and I didn’t want to be sick again. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, and waited for my head to clear. It was nice and quiet in the bathroom, the music from the club nothing more than a faraway thud and boom here and there. Although I could smell disinfectants and bleach, the strong scents were better than smoke and body odor.

The tingling burn inside my ears eventually subsided and my tummy settled.

I stood, using the wall for support, and staggered to the sink.

The vampire associates of mine were seriously cramping my style. I couldn’t work tonight. Returning to the bar with all the noises, lights and overwhelming smells would only bring another wave of sickness. I washed my hands and splashed water over my face, attempting to compose myself and calm down. The one thing I refused to do was look into the mirror. I was afraid of what I’d see staring back at me.

Hector was waiting for me when I stepped out of the bathroom. “What’s the deal?”

I tried to look as pitiful as possible. “I’m sick.”

“Then take your ass home. Don’t spread that shit around my club.” He hurried away, visibly staying clear of whatever funk I’d become the unwilling host of, and intercepted Cassie. “Stay away from her, she’s sick.” He turned around and repeated, “Take your ass home already.”

I didn’t need to be told a third time.

I tried to block out the sounds from the club—the catcalls, blaring speakers and Lonnie’s lard ass barking at Deena. My feet seemed lighter with each step that led me toward the prospect of blissful silence. I collected my coat from the hook on the wall and kept going. I didn’t know how in the hell Disco dealt with the intensity. It wasn’t a high I endorsed.

The door made the same horrible metal against metal sound it always did when I opened it. I tried to block out the noise, eager to get outside. I took a deep breath when I stepped from the building and the door slammed shut behind me. The air was cold as hell but I didn’t care. That was easily remedied. I slipped into my jacket, thankful that I’d stopped shaking and my head felt clear.

I would never take silence for granted again.

Suddenly, my nose and eyes kicked in, but in a different way. A prickle of awareness creeped up my spine. Someone was coming around the corner. Whoever it was was moving fast.

My necromancy flared on its own, an odd hum rippled inside my body. Someone was on the way, but it wasn’t Disco.

They’re coming. Goose’s warning echoed inside my head. Mark my words.

Screw my wretched ass. He was right.

Three vampires came around the corner, dressed similarly in dark gothic clothing. Each one had long, shaggy hair. They stopped several feet away from me, which was downright noble of them, since they could have charged and taken me down in a heartbeat.

The tallest one stepped away from the group.

“Rhiannon Murphy?” He sounded warm and welcoming, like a Jehovah’s Witness who only wanted to share the gospel. “I’d like to have a word.”

I stood perfectly still, although I was terrified.

How in the hell did he know my last name? Deena and Hector would tell them to go play hide and go fuck themselves before they gave away any employee information at the club. I had a sinking feeling that the vampires in front of me weren’t the only ones who knew my name.

“This isn’t a good time for me.”

“That’s too bad.” He motioned to his companions. “It’s the only time we have.”

The back door to the BP opened with a screech of metal, and my stomach bottomed out. I didn’t turn around to see who’d followed me outside. My increased sense of smell allowed me to identify the floral fragrance of Paul Sebastian Design—Deena’s favorite perfume.

“Rhiannon? Hector said you’re still sick. Are you feeling any better? If you are, I could use you. It’s hell in there.”

I almost took her up on the offer—seeing an escape route—then I realized how fast the vampires could move. Deena would fall prey to them if I forced my hand. “I’m still sick. I’m sorry.” I turned my head and called over my shoulder, “Go back inside. I’ll call you later.”

The door slammed shut, and I heard her heels clicking across the pavement. Double damn! She had come outside. Mr. Suckface seemed delighted by the shift in events—a broad smile spread across his face.

“I feel bad asking you to come in, but unless you’re dying I really need the help.” Deena stopped worrying about my assistance when she got an eye-full of the dark, good-looking vampire in front of us. Her eyes roamed up and down his body and she didn’t bother being discreet. “Is this a friend of yours?”

Jesus. Deena would never think of dating someone inside the shit pit, but once she dipped outside, her freak was on. “No, it’s not,” I said. “Hector’s going to start looking for you. You’d better go back to work.”

“I’m Evan,” the vampire interrupted in a sexy purr. “What’s your name?”

“Deena.” She looked into his face and her shoulders relaxed, her eyes becoming cloudy. Her arms dropped to her sides and she didn’t move, standing as still as a statue.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” I warned. The vampire was playing a dangerous game. “Our bouncers will come looking for her. She’s the only bartender in the place tonight, and it won’t be long until she’s missed.”

Evan offered me his arm. “Then we should get going.”

I glowered at the appendage, wishing super human strength was one of my newfound abilities so I could rip it off at the shoulder joint and knock him over the head. When I didn’t come to him, he lowered his arm and moved closer to Deena. He ran his fingers over the cheetah paw print tattoo circling her bicep.

“Don’t even think about it, asshole.” Reaching into my pocket, I went for the newest weapon in my vampire arsenal. “Mess with her and I will totally fuck you up.”

He stepped away from Deena and came at me. His dark eyes formed slits as he growled, “The first thing I’m going to work on is your attitude.”

“Take a number.” I dug out the rosary, pulling it free. “There’s a long line.”

I extended my hand, beads cascading along my palm, and shoved it into his face.

I learned three important things in that instant: Father Rooney blessed my rosary perfectly, vampire flesh stinks like scorched plastic when it burns, and the undead are perfectly capable of screaming when it all goes down.