Wynter shivered; a chill settled over her skin as the man spoke to Logan as if she weren’t there. The way he looked at her, albeit for only a second, made her queasy. Vampires. Wynter remembered all too well the hungry look in their eyes and the flare of their nostrils right before the pain came. She cringed. He looked as though he was sizing her up like a glass of the wine he’d just mentioned.
“The theater is fine for now. We are meeting Kade Issacson later this evening. We’re a bit early, though,” Logan explained with not so much as a blink of an eye. “Please ensure our privacy.”
“Yes sir. Your needs are our utmost priority,” he assured the Alpha. Stealing a glance at Wynter, he licked his lips but quickly turned away. “Please, this way.”
Wynter noted the darkened lobby and thought that if they were looking to scare people from entering, keeping it exclusive, they certainly did a good job with that. The flare of candles provided little illumination onto the stone encased foyer. A soft lull of Dixieland jazz poured into the small space and she detected the faint smell of mold. She supposed the club owners were going for a quaint antique décor, congruent with the city’s history. However, in her opinion, the vibe was nothing short of creepy. She looked to the older maître d’ who’d been speaking to Logan, and caught a glimpse of his pointed canines. He winked at her right before he pushed a black curtain aside. Clutching at Logan a bit tighter, she bravely stood her ground.
Both Logan and Dimitri appeared taller to her, their attitude cold and deadly. Their lips were drawn tight in serious expressions that projected dominance. Far removed from her easygoing dinner date, a dangerous creature had replaced Logan. As a wolf, this was his true nature. Wynter took note of Logan’s demeanor, promising never to forget exactly what and who he was.
Emerging from the claustrophobic passageway, Wynter was amazed at the luxurious room in which they’d arrived. Reminiscent of a nineteen-forties tiered dinner theater, the area looked capable of holding at least fifty patrons, all comfortably seated in rows of clam-shelled, semicircular booths classically upholstered in red crushed velvet. The light from the small votive candles on the tables reflected off the blackened plaster walls. The darkened stage eerily sat empty awaiting its starlet.
As Wynter slid onto the seat, she breathed in relief as Logan and Dimitri flanked her. They towered over her small frame, and she felt safe nestled between them. Utterly fascinated that a place like this existed, her eyes roamed overhead to the massive crystal chandelier that precariously hung from the oval ceiling. The booths were arranged on a curve so that every person had a good view of the stage. Wynter glanced over to the patrons seated nearest to them who were laughing and drinking. In their element, they looked almost human until she caught a glint of a fang.
Logan must have discerned her discomfort, because he placed his hand on her thigh and gently squeezed. She looked up to him, noticing that his face had softened. God, this man was killing her inside. Protective and deadly to loving in sixty seconds, every facet of him intrigued her, making her want him even more.
“You okay, Wynter?” Logan asked softly.
“Um, yeah, thanks,” she uttered not realizing she’d been holding her breath. As she spoke, her gaze traveled to a pair of lovers. While she couldn’t see faces, she could clearly see the tracks of blood running down the woman’s backless dress.
“You’re shaking. Look at me,” Logan instructed, watching how she naturally complied. “You’re safe. You are not in a lab. I promise you, nothing will happen to you here that you don’t want to happen.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she replied indignantly. Was he implying she wanted to be bitten?
“Look around you, sweetheart. This place is a dark playground where people live out their fantasies. This one just happens to be run by the vamps. But wolves have them too. We come to watch and be seen, to play and be played with. The vamps, they come for the blood. And the shifters, witches and humans all come for different reasons. Some want a walk on the wild side, some want to be bitten, some want sex. Places like this serve a need,” Logan told her matter-of-factly. “In Philadelphia, Tristan runs an upscale club. Similar to this one. I’d say his is more urban in nature, but its function is nearly the same.”
“You come to these places often?” Please say no. Please say no. She couldn’t believe what he was telling her. Why would he purposely hang out with vampires?
“I used to help run one in Philadelphia, but here, this is too dark for my tastes.” Logan briefly stopped talking when a waitress came to their table. Without saying a word, she efficiently poured glasses of champagne. Setting the bottle in an ice bucket, she quickly scampered away. Logan handed Wynter her glass and continued. “As I was saying, this club can be quite dangerous if you don’t know what you are getting into. Of course like Tristan’s club, I expect there’s tight security. That being said, it doesn’t mean that people don’t get hurt.”
Logan didn’t want to scare his little wolf. He simply wished to provide her with knowledge of what existed in his world. Neither evil nor good, the city could be utilized for both, depending on one’s intentions. The veil separating the planes of supernaturals and humans was extraordinarily thin in the Big Easy. It was easy to get in trouble if one didn’t know what they were doing. Deciding to shift the focus, he changed topics. He knew of one subject that would definitely take her mind off vampires.
“So, Wynter, care to explain what happened at the pool today?” He glanced over to Dimitri who gave a small grin, and then back at her.
Wynter nearly choked on her champagne. What the hell? Where did that come from? Had he been waiting all night to take her off guard? Logan was entirely too confident. Two could play at that game, she thought. Forgetting the ‘no game’ rule he’d insisted on, she dived right into her answer, which answered his question with a question.
“Whatever do you mean, Alpha?” She batted her eyelashes at him then smiled at Dimitri.
“Come now, you seemed quite bothered with me, running hot and well, hotter. And that kiss…by the side of the pool…in front of everyone. Hmm?”
“Oh, do you mean the kiss you gave me in the pool? That one? I do believe everyone saw that one. Or was it the kiss you gave the other woman who came to the pool? You know, the one you gave her while still exhibiting the,” she paused, pretending to give it great thought and then pinned him with a stare. “How should I say it? The one you gave her, wearing the tented towel that I gave you?”
More champagne please…now. Wynter swore her blood pressure rose twenty points just thinking of the incident. A few hours ago she’d told herself to play it cool, but her plan didn’t seem to be working out the way she’d imagined it.
Dimitri laughed out loud at her response. His Alpha was going to have his hands full, all right.
Logan smiled. He supposed he should have thought better of kissing Luci with an erection the size of Mount Everest. But in truth, it’d just been a peck hello on the cheek.
“Is my little wolf jealous? You seemed quite, how should I say it? Angry with me,” he mused, taking a sip of his drink.
“Nothing to be jealous of. This…this thing between us,” she flushed with embarrassment, “it’s just…it’s just a chemical reaction brought on by whatever they gave me….what they’ve turned me into.”
“A wolf. You can say it.”
“Fine. Yes, it’s that wolf thing. I’m sure it’ll pass. Besides, I have no claims to you.” She looked away and stared into her bubbling glass.