Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
But every time he tried to picture anything in regard to the investigation, it was always with the question of whether Philippe would be there with him? Would he see him again? Or would he only see Philippe at the end of things when he handed over information on what happened to Piper and her final location?
If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to see Philippe again, and that scared him more than any potential plot the Arsenault clan could be cooking up.
Chapter Five
Philippe slid deftly through the crowd of scantily clad bodies while a deep bass throbbed from the speakers ringing the large open space. His eyes skimmed over the happy faces as people drank, laughed, and danced.
But humans weren’t the only ones who occupied Blush. Here and there, he caught the cautious gaze of another vampire. Each one gave the tiniest nod to acknowledge Philippe as if to simply say, “I saw you and I have no quarrel” before going back to their entertainment…or hunt.
Rafe had accomplished something quite spectacular with his nightclubs. He’d created his own neutral zone outside of the usual sanctioned space. Typically, each city had one location where vampires could cross paths and know that he or she wouldn’t be attacked. In Hartford, there was only The Gallery.
Beyond that, vampires kept a distance from each other or risked a fight. Vampires were too damn territorial and didn’t like sharing prey.
But Blush was different. Besides the three vampires that Philippe could see working at the club, there were six others wandering about, sipping drinks and chatting with humans. It was clear they were all aware of each other but appeared to be ignoring their fellow bloodsuckers in an effort to keep the peace.
Which only made sense. Stir up trouble in Rafe Varik’s club, and a vampire would find himself banned for the rest of his very long existence. And no one wanted to be forced out of such an enjoyable hunting ground.
For the moment, Philippe stood on the fringe, listening to the music and watching the people. He could feel Jullien at his back, serving as a bodyguard he didn’t exactly want. Jullien could use the excuse that he was a regular at Rafe’s clubs, but he knew the vampire was there to watch over him.
Philippe didn’t want a guardian shadow. He hadn’t reached the ripe old age of two hundred and sixty-eight without knowing how to protect himself. But it was more than his ego getting bruised by Jullien’s presence. He wanted to watch Rafe in his own domain without others watching him.
From their first meeting at The Gallery, Philippe found himself drawn to Rafe. Everything about the vampire whispered temptation. Philippe longed to pin Rafe to the nearest flat surface and make the most delicious moans rise from those lush parted lips. But more than feeding and fucking, Rafe whispered of escape and freedom. No more worry and responsibility beating him down. With Rafe, Philippe would be able to run free and laugh, enjoy the long life he’d been cursed with.
Jullien had warned him that Rafe didn’t seem to be appearing at his club as much as he had in the past, but Philippe wasn’t worried. Lola had spotted the Arsenault pair from where she was leaning against the bar. If she hadn’t called Rafe already to alert him that the clan leader was at his club, she would shortly.
No. There was no need. Rafe was already there.
The vampire was in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by a throng of men and women as they moved to the pounding beat of the music. A slender blonde pressed tightly to his front, her long arms wrapped around Rafe’s neck, while a muscular man in a shirt that looked as if it was a second skin was pressed against Rafe’s back.
Reaching behind him, Rafe grabbed a handful of the dancer’s hair and held him in place as Rafe ravaged his mouth. Even through the writhing crowd of bodies, Philippe could see the man’s left hand tighten on the vampire.
Blood shot straight to Philippe’s dick as he regarded the blatant display of sex and power. His fangs ached to slide down, but Philippe couldn’t figure out if he wanted to join the sexy threesome or if he wished to shove both humans away so he could claim Rafe for himself. Neither of them was a healthy thought or would help his clan, so he shoved away the flicker of hunger.
As if he knew what was flitting through Philippe’s brain, Rafe released his companion and looked directly at Philippe, a wicked grin growing on his glistening lips. There was the faintest glow in his sharp blue eyes. It could be blamed on the flashing lights, but Philippe recognized it for what it was. Hunger. Sharp, sexual hunger.