She liked it here and had no desire to leave, but the drawback of immortality was that moving on eventually was an annoying necessity—can’t stay somewhere for thirty years if you don’t age. Although, the prevalent use of Botox among humans certainly helped explain her lack of facial wrinkles.
Olivia scoped out the club and marveled at how far society had come—and yet not.
Humans who loved to dress like vampires, or what they thought vampires looked like, flocked to this place every night as the sun went down. Except Sunday—she closed the joint on Sunday, since the place used to be a church. She figured it was the least she could do. Olivia grinned and shook her head as she watched the humans wooing one another in their vampire garb.
Ironically, most vampires did not dress like horror-movie rejects; many adopted the fashion of the era they lived in, but not all did. Vincent, for example, liked the Victorian era so much that sometimes he still adorned himself in a top hat and ascot, although she thought it looked ridiculous. Vampires retained their individuality at least.
Imagine if they knew this club was owned and operated by an actual vampire who preferred silk and cashmere to leather and spikes. Olivia had to wear the leather sentry uniform every day for a century and loathed the idea of wrapping herself in it again.
I’d be a sad disappointment to them.
She glanced to the bar as she made her way to the DJ platform. Maya was playing up her charms with various drooling idiots who were only too happy to give her enormous tips in exchange for the smallest bit of her attention.
Trixie, her other bartender, was Maya’s opposite but worked her charms with equal fervor. Her short pink-spiked hair and black eyeliner were a stark contrast to Maya’s blond, innocent look. Both vamps were great at bringing in the crowd and keeping them happy. They gave a quick wave to Olivia as she passed, and Maya stuck her tongue out in her usual flippant, childish manner.
Olivia climbed onto the DJ’s platform and gave Sadie a pat on the back. Sadie was one of the best spinners out there, living or undead, and Olivia’s oldest, most trusted friend. She was dressed much like the patrons of the club, except Sadie actually was a vamp, and the girl had a serious passion for leather and lace.
“Hey, boss. Feels like a lively crowd tonight.” Sadie winked and smiled. “No pun intended.”
“Did you hear what Maya did?” Olivia kept her eyes focused on the crowd, her senses alert for anything out of the ordinary. A sense of impending doom flickered up her spine. Trouble was coming. “She’s a pain in my ass.”
“Sure did, and she sure is.” Sadie put her headphones around her neck. “Think that girl will ever listen?” she asked with a nod toward the bar, as she laughed and pushed her long brown hair out of her eyes. “’Cause I don’t.”
“Maya’s still young.” Olivia gave Sadie a friendly nudge with her elbow. “It took you a little while to get the hang of it, if I’m not mistaken?”
Sadie was the first vamp she had ever turned. Olivia and Vincent were traveling through a largely unsettled part of Arizona and picked up the distinctly potent scent of blood. The Apache Indians had been attacking settlers at that time, not that Olivia could blame them, and Sadie’s family had been among their victims.
Sadie was barely alive when she found her. The faint beat of her heart called to Olivia, and before she even knew what she was doing, she turned her. It was an instinctive need to save her, to help this poor girl who had lost everything, left seemingly alone in the world.
Vincent, of course, was less than pleased, and that was the beginning of the end for them.
Olivia looked fondly at her friend and smiled. “You have been around a couple hundred years longer than she has.”
“Truth.” Sadie winked and adjusted the headphones around her neck. “You’re just a sucker for hard-luck cases. Face it. You would rescue the world if you could.”
“Not the whole world,” Olivia said dramatically. “Just the ones who really need it.”
“I sure needed it,” Sadie said with a warm smile.
Olivia swallowed the surprising lump in her throat before looking back at the crowd. Sadie had tried to thank her on several occasions, but Olivia never let her get the words out. Deep down inside she felt as though she hadn’t saved Sadie or the others. Perhaps the vampire hunters of the world were right. What if vamps really were damned to burn in hell for eternity? Would anyone thank her then?
“I should get back down there before Maya finds another boy toy.”
Sadie grabbed the microphone and Olivia’s arm before she could escape.
“Everyone having fun?” Sadie bellowed into the silver microphone. The crowd responded with insanely loud screaming and whistling. “Then I think we should all give it up for Olivia Hollingsworth, the owner and proprietor of The Coven.”
Olivia waved to the screaming crowd and shot her friend a narrow-eyed look as she made her way down from the altar. She hated being the center of attention, and Sadie knew it but delighted in razzing her on occasion.
Another loud, bass-driven song tumbled over the crowd as Sadie’s voice floated into her head. Hey, boss. I see our VIP table is full again tonight with your boyfriend and his crew.
Olivia threw an irritated glance over her shoulder at Sadie and shot back. He’s not my boyfriend. He just wishes he was. What a termite. She could hear Sadie stifle a giggle as she navigated the crowd and made her way to Michael’s table.
How long has it been since you got laid? I forget. Olivia did her best to ignore that last jab from her friend. Other than Vincent, Sadie was the only one who knew that Olivia had been celibate since becoming a vampire. Don’t you think you’ve tortured yourself long enough? I never knew this Douglas guy, but if he really loved you the way you say he did, would he want you to spend eternity alone?
I’m not alone. Olivia threw a wink over her shoulder. I’ve got all of you, and sex is overrated anyway.
Damn. Sadie’s laugh jingled through Olivia’s mind. Now you’re just talking crazy.
Olivia shook her head and smiled. Her heart had been stolen long before Vincent made it stop beating, and besides, even if she did have her heart to give, Moriarty certainly would not be a candidate.
Michael was a greasy little worm who used his family’s reputation to get what he wanted. He came to The Coven every Saturday night with his gaggle of dirtbags, and Olivia could smell his fear and feelings of inadequacy a mile away. He’d been trying to get into her pants for months now, and apparently was still trying, even after a multitude of rejections.
She felt his eyes on her all night and had managed to ignore him, but now it was time to play the game. She had to placate the little weasel. Jerk or not, he was a customer—a customer who spent a lot of money in her club.
Olivia flashed the most charming grin she could muster as she approached Michael and his motley crew.
“Hey there, hot stuff.” He leered at her and his lips curved into a lascivious grin. “I was wondering how long it was gonna take you to get your sweet ass over here.”
She wanted to bite his face off. What an asshole.
“Hello, Mr. Moriarty,” she said through a strained smile. “Are you gentlemen finding everything satisfactory this evening?”
“We’re just fine, aren’t we, boys?”
He took a long sip of his martini as he ran his hand up the leg of some young girl who was draped all over him, probably believing he’d make her rich and famous. She definitely didn’t fit in with the other clubgoers. This blond was more mainstream and never would have stepped foot into The Coven if it weren’t for Moriarty. Many humans were easily swayed by money and power. Moriarty had both.