“Ah, come on.” The other woman pouted. She lifted his hand and placed it on one of her incredibly huge breasts. “I can do things to you that will blow your mind.”
“I’m sure you can,” he agreed, as he looked over her head, desperate to be away from this place.
The first woman, not to be outdone, grabbed his cock through his jeans and squeezed. “You’re a big one, aren’t you? Plenty to go around.”
Isaiah had had enough. He gently disengaged from both women and headed to the short corridor beyond the bar with their soft complaints trailing behind him. He was done with waiting.
The bouncer met him just beyond the door to Damek’s office and held it open. Isaiah stalked into the room, grateful when the door shut, closing out some of the grating noise and overwhelming smells.
“How the hell do you live here?” His preternatural senses told him the vampire was with him. Power pulsed all around him, potent and strong.
Laughter rose from the corner of the room and Damek strode forward—tall, dark-eyed and pale-skinned. “You get used to it. It does have benefits.”
“If you say so,” he muttered. Of course, Damek needed blood to survive. It was smart to keep your food source close. Joshua had told him Damek was rumored to be almost a thousand years old. Isaiah had no idea if it was true and, at the moment, couldn’t care less. He wanted out of here.
“It’s good to see you again, my friend.” Damek waved to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit.”
They weren’t friends and he wasn’t sitting. They occasionally did favors for one another, but that was as far as it went. Werewolves and vampires were naturally suspicious around one another. But the survival of their respective species had pushed aside the natural boundaries that had kept them apart since the beginning of time.
The paranormal bounty hunters had given them a common foe, one that had made them reach out to one another in a way they wouldn’t naturally do.
“I’ll stand, if you don’t mind.” He wasn’t exactly polite, but he didn’t want to antagonize either.
“Very well. What can I do for you?”
Isaiah kept his hands loose by his sides and did his best to keep his guard up and his mind blank. He had no idea if Damek could read his mind or not. Keeping apart for so long meant neither species knew as much as they should about the other. It kept them all on edge.
Isaiah figured Damek probably enjoyed that.
“Just a courtesy call to let you know I was in the city.” Damek was head vampire in Chicago. Isaiah didn’t want problems with the local paranormals while he was here.
“Ah, I take it you’re here to see to James LeVeau’s belongings and, of course, those of his exceptionally beautiful daughter.”
Isaiah growled. “Careful, vampire. That’s my sister-in-law you’re talking about.”
Damek laughed. “So Joshua is as smart as I thought him. Good.”
“I’m outta here.” Isaiah made for the door, but stopped as power surged around him. He turned and glanced over his shoulder.
Damek shook his head. “You Strikers, you’re so arrogant.”
“And you’re not,” he countered.
The vampire smiled, this time showing his teeth. “Enjoy your stay in Chicago.” Damek seemed to merge with the shadows, disappearing even from Isaiah’s preternatural sight.
He didn’t linger, but walked straight through the bar and out the door. Power clung to the place. No one knew if Damek was good or evil, but the sonofabitch sure was powerful. Not an enemy he’d want. The bastard would be relentless. You had to respect that.
The night air helped to cleanse the stench of the club from his skin, but nothing soothed the restlessness tugging at him.
He kept heading northward, ambling aimlessly and eventually hitting Wicker Park. He knew he should be going in the opposite direction, back to Riley’s Garage on the South Side. But he didn’t want to go back, not yet. He knew he wouldn’t sleep so he might as well walk and enjoy the sights.
The city itself was vibrant and alive, filled with many different ethnic groups and economic levels. He’d seen homeless people and folks in limousines, those decked out in jeans and others in diamonds. The food and the nightlife were just as diverse. Maybe that’s what he needed. Some good food and some decent music.
He wandered past a bar and a woman’s voice drifted out on the cool October breeze. He froze, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the sidewalk. A guy bumped into him from behind and started to curse him, but one look at Isaiah’s face and he quickly moved on.
Isaiah felt his entire body clench with need as the woman’s low, sultry voice wrapped around him. Turning slowly, he stared at the outside of the small club. Haven, it was called. It was a typical older, three-story brick building with a business on the bottom and what looked to be apartments above it.
A sense of urgency filled him. An air of expectation swirled around him. Somehow he knew if he went inside this bar his life would be changed forever.
All the more reason to keep walking.
He whirled on one heel and strode in the opposite direction. About twenty feet away, he stopped.
“Fuck!”
The wolf inside him was howling, practically clawing at his skin to be free. His lungs couldn’t take in enough air even though his chest was heaving. He raked his fingers through his hair and swore again.
His instincts would not be denied. Spinning around, he stalked back to the bar. He paused on the doorstep, took a deep breath and crossed over the threshold.
The bouncer on the door nodded at him as he passed. The guy was about six-one and built, his shoulders practically filling the doorway. His blond hair was buzzed off in a crew cut and his pale blue eyes missed nothing as he watched the door and the crowd within.
The light was dim, but that was no problem for Isaiah. With his preternatural sense of sight he could see easily. The smell of liquor and warm bodies mixed with the spice of sexual arousal, creating a heady perfume. He could also smell food, and it reminded him once again that he hadn’t eaten in hours. His fast metabolism required him to eat several times more than a human male and he was running on empty.
He found an empty table for two in the far corner and sat with his back to the wall as he scoped out the place. The woman was no longer singing. No matter. He’d find her before he left here.
The place was crowded for a Thursday night. He could see only one other free table. Several couples were dancing to a bluesy number being played by a four-piece band that managed to fit on a tiny stage at the far end of the place. The bar dominated one wall with plenty of seating surrounding it. The bartender was a big guy who looked up when Isaiah’s eyes landed on him. Their gazes met and held, neither of them backing down. The guy finally looked away when a woman walked up beside him and placed her hand on his arm.
And holy shit, what a woman. Isaiah was ninety years old. Still relatively young given his five-hundred-year lifespan. But in all those years, he’d never seen a woman like this one.
Even from a distance, he could tell she was tall. Long black hair fell like silk over one of her shoulders and didn’t stop until it hit her waist. Her features were more striking than beautiful. Exotic. Strong. Her full lips were painted a deep red that all but begged a man to kiss them.
Isaiah’s cock swelled in agreement, pushing against the zipper of his jeans. He hadn’t been aroused this quickly since he’s been a young male just coming into maturity.
“What can I get you?” He resented the perky female voice that shouted near his ear. He didn’t want to stop staring at the woman standing behind the bar. It wasn’t easy, but he managed to drag his eyes to the waitress standing by his table, tray tucked under her arm as she waited for his order. She was probably in her early twenties with tousled blonde curls and an open, friendly smile.