Ch 1
The first time Kohl saw her was months ago on the news as she was escorted into a courtroom surrounded by lawyers. Journalists shoved cameras and microphones in her face, all trying to get a glimpse of her expression for the sole purpose of giving the people at home a thrill at the expense of someone else’s pain.
A softer, more innocent version of the woman she was now.
The second time he saw her, she was dancing alone in the corner of the dimly lit club where he worked, body grinding to the dark pulse of the music as though no one else was there. And as far as he was concerned, no one was. The soft innocence that once cloaked her was gone, and in its place was the cold harshness of the reality of this world, and the people in it.
Her name was Devon Young.
A black dress hugged her tall form from her elegant throat to the tops of the combat boots on her feet, covering her tawny skin, as though she were trying to blend into the shadows.
As if she possibly could.
Her hair was different. Darker. Longer. Curlier. More natural. The curls floated around her head in time to her movements with a life all their own, hiding her from him. But Kohl didn’t need to see her face. He knew exactly what she looked like.
The song pumping through the speakers hit its crescendo, and Kohl’s blood pulsed in time to the heavy bass. Each hit of the drum reverberated through his muscles until his bones vibrated and his upper lip twitched, his fangs tasting the air, the music and the erotic motions of her body working together to rattle the tenacious hold he had on his control. Music always affected him like this. The lure of it. The power of it.
But tonight it was worse. Because tonight, she was here.
Kohl turned his back on the crowd of humans huddled around the bar, hiding the telltale signs of what he truly was, and started washing dirty glasses, letting Andrew handle the drink orders. He needed a minute to give himself time to regain control of his body’s errant reaction. Though he didn’t always bartend, they were short-handed tonight, so he’d offered to pitch in and help. It was the least he could do for the vampires who had taken him in when he’d had no one and nowhere else to go.
As he washed glasses and refilled garnishes, the repetitive actions soothed the fire in his blood, and his mind wandered back to the human woman. What was she doing there? Just outside of San Antonio, Texas, of all places? He thought she lived in Dallas. And how did she get in? The club his adopted family owned didn’t exactly advertise its existence. As a matter of fact, entry was strictly enforced and by invitation only—by a member of the coven or one of their trusted human pets. Which meant she’d have to know someone who was a regular guest, and no one had ever mentioned her.
The faces of every human who’d ever walked through the door flashed through his mind, their image forever engraved in his memory. None of them were at her level. None of them deserved a woman like Devon.
He’d never met her, yet he knew her.
Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could smell her…feel her. Her anger. Her shame. Her longing.
Her weariness with it all.
Kohl felt it, and understood it. For he often experienced those same emotions himself. He was familiar with the weight she carried.
Devon’s scent suddenly grew stronger, overtaking the smell of alcohol and cheap cologne, and he knew she was there at the bar. Grinding his teeth against the temptation she posed, he set down the glass he was drying and turned around, unable to resist the chance to interact with her.
“I got this,” he told Andrew.
His friend and co-worker gave him a sharp look, his dark eyes quickly assessing Kohl’s appearance before he nodded and went back to his own side of the bar.
She stood between two other human females who’d been waiting for a while. His heart hammering in a way that had nothing to do with the song pounding out of the speakers, Kohl indicated he’d be right with her and took their orders first. Once he got them out of the way, he braced himself and smiled.
“Sorry about that. What can I do for you?” He had to shout over the music for her to hear him.
Her eyes—an intriguing mixture of brown and gold with the slightest upward tilt at the outer corners—met his for a moment before traveling over the tattoos on his neck. At least, the visible ones. His skin heated everywhere they touched, and he wished he could hear what she was thinking, but unlike the others, he lacked that ability. A genetic defect.
A small diamond glittered on the right side of her nose. It was the only jewelry she wore. She returned his smile, but it didn’t reach those beautiful eyes. “Can you distort time and space and send me back a few years?”
Her words, spoken in low tones not really meant to be overheard, came to him clear enough, and his stomach fell as Kohl felt her mood take a sudden dive. His smile faltered. He knew her request had nothing to do with her age—no older than thirty—and everything to do with what had happened to her following that night on the news. “No, I’m afraid I can’t.”
She looked down at her fingers, twisted together on the bar, unsurprised he had heard her over the music and chatter. It was a moment before she raised her chin. “You know who I am, don’t you?” Then she laughed a little, glancing off to the side. She flushed, spots of dark red marring the flawless brown skin on her neck and chest. “Of course, you do. Everyone does. Even way the fuck out here.”
As she’d already answered her own question, Kohl didn’t bother to respond. “Can I get you something to drink…Devon?” He kept his eyes on her face, away from the rush of blood under that soft-looking skin, so close to the surface it would only take the slightest nick of a fang to release it.
She raised her voice. “Vodka and cranberry juice would be great, thank you. Heavy on the vodka.” Abruptly, she turned her back to him and leaned back against the bar to watch the dancers.
Dismissed, Kohl wondered what he’d said or done to cause her to shut down the way she had. The entire state knew who she was, if not the entire country. It shouldn’t surprise her that he did also. Whatever was bothering her, her emotions were all over the place, wreaking havoc on his calm façade, so he set about making her drink for her and set it on the bar.
His eyes travelled over the disarray of curls that covered the back of her head. Without thinking, he lifted his hand to touch them before remembering himself and letting it fall. Picking up a towel, he made a show of drying his hands. “It’s on the house,” he told her.
She turned with a negative shake of those curls. “That’s not necessary. I can pay.”
“I know you can pay. But, it’s on me. Really.” He wanted to do something to apologize, even though he didn’t know how he’d offended her.
After a slight hesitation, she took the drink and met his eyes. “Thank you…uh…”
His hands stilled on the towel. “Kohl. My name is Kohl. Kohl Sergones.”
“Kohl.” She tasted the name on her tongue as she eyed up the ink on the back of his hands and arms, revealed beneath the rolled up sleeves of his white dress shirt, then moved up to the black tie strangling his throat. “Aren’t you guys a little dressed up for such a grungy place?”
Unconsciously, he ran a hand over the front of his shirt, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. “It’s what’s required.” When he looked up again, she was watching him with a glint of light in her eyes. The heaviness of her emotions shifted a little, and he realized she was teasing him. He smiled and shrugged. “I guess it makes it easy to tell the clientele apart from the staff.”
“Well, it does at that.” She lifted her drink in a half-hearted salute. “Thank you, Kohl.”
“You’re welcome, Devon.”
He watched her walk back to her corner, weaving in and out of the other humans, hips swaying with a rhythm that was both seductive and totally unconscious. She had to feel his lingering attention, but she didn’t look back. Slugging down half of the contents in her glass, she joined the other dancers.
Kohl slowly exhaled and turned his attention to his waiting customers. But as he poured shots, shook Cosmos, and topped off glasses of beer, her words tumbled around in his head. Why did she assume he thought she couldn’t pay for her drinks?
Admittedly, he didn’t know what had happened to her after the trial. Perhaps she’d lost her job. Perhaps she was dependent on others.
Which led him back around to wondering how she was able to get into the club. She had to know someone here. Or, perhaps one of the other vampires had already claimed her, and he hadn’t realized because he’d only just tonight caught her scent. He squeezed his eyes shut against the red haze of an unforeseen rage. The glass he held shattered in his hand.
Andrew shot him a look and grabbed the broom.
Kohl shook his head slightly, trying to clear it of the woman. He had no right to feel this way about her, and didn’t know why he was obsessing over her, or why he’d been doing it since that day he’d seen her on the evening news.
Maybe “obsessing” wasn’t the right word. It made him sound like a stalker. But he certainly hadn’t forgotten her. Little everyday things would often bring her to mind, and he’d found himself wondering what had happened to her after the trial more times than he could count. And then, tonight, she’d shown up out of the blue, like he’d somehow conjured her himself with some sort of black magic born from his longing not to be alone.
A movement at the edge of the dance floor caught his eye, and was gone just as quickly. At first he saw nothing out of the ordinary, just humans grinding lewdly against each other, hyped up on alcohol and vampire blood, attempting to ease the loneliness of their short lives. But Kohl knew this place like the back of his hand. Something wasn’t right.
He signaled to Andrew and wandered over to the far end of the bar, less crowded now, and searched for whatever it was that had raised a flag. A second later, the flash of the strobe lights glinted off a shiny, black barrel. And then again on the other side of the club. Human eyes wouldn’t have caught it, but Kohl had a…gift…of eyesight, if one could call it that. And he knew immediately what he had seen.
Before the first shooter had a chance to squeeze the trigger, he was over the bar and across the room, his only thought being to protect Devon. Fire razed his hip, and he hissed in pain as a bullet seared through the muscle and out the other side, just missing the bone. He barely flinched. His focus centered on getting to the woman. To Devon.
He was at her side before the sounds of gunshots registered to the dancers over the music. Without pause, Kohl tackled her to the floor, yelling at her to stay down when bodies began falling around them. Then he tucked her beneath his body and crawled over to one of the sitting areas, dragging her with him. She was tall for a woman, easily five ten or so, but with his size, he covered her easily.
Flipping one of the round tables over and using it as a shield, he barricaded them in the corner. The tabletop was made of armored steel, to be used specifically for this purpose. Devon huddled behind it with her knees pulled up to her chest and her hands covering her ears as people screamed and ran over each other, trying to get to the exits to avoid the barrage of firepower exploding from the rifle barrels. Bullets ricocheted around them, and he pushed her head down, both to keep her safe and to keep her from seeing exactly what it was that was trying to protect her.
The beast inside Kohl stirred and woke. The one he tried so hard to suppress. It was bad enough his fangs were exposed and aching to tear through flesh. He didn’t need to fight the beast, too. But try as he might to resist it, his blood burned hot as blue fire, and his skin felt simultaneously loose and tight as chaos exploded around them.
The smell of human blood filled his nostrils, feeding his hunger. He wanted to help the other victims, but to try and do so would expose him for what he was, would expose all of them. It was bad enough he’d just sprinted from one side of the club to the other in a second’s time or less. The place was small, but it wasn’t that small. He could only hope the shooters were enough of a distraction that no one had caught him on their phone cameras as anything more than a blur, if it managed to pick him up at all.
More gunfire came on the scene, short pops muffled by silencers only vampires would be able to distinguish among the screams and music, and he knew the club’s owners had arrived. The shooters didn’t stand a chance. He just had to wait it out. Wrapping his arms around Devon, he hunched over her trembling form, protecting her as much as he could with his body.
Her scent filled his lungs, different now, tinged with the fear and horror that kept her frozen beneath him. Kohl shivered, his throat burning and his fangs straining with delight at the prospect of her taste. But he clamped down on his instincts, maintaining control on his hunger, concentrating on keeping the beast at bay.
When it was all over, the sudden silence was nearly as deafening to him as the chaos had been moments before. Voices came to his ears, speaking in low tones. Voices he knew well. And he moved the table out of the way so he could stand.
Four vampires surveyed the results of the shooting, guns at their sides, checking the bodies for life. The gore didn’t faze them. One or two of them had done much worse during a casual night out on the town.
Bending down, Kohl touched Devon lightly on the back, gently trying to soothe her trembling. “It’s finished, Devon. It’s all clear. Here,”—he slid his hand down her arm— “let me help you up.” He knew by staying near her she would see him as he was, but there was no avoiding it. He couldn’t just run away and leave her to the mercy of the coven. The Master wouldn’t care what was done with her. But Kohl did, and he needed to make sure she got out of there all in one piece.
Devon took his proffered hand and allowed him to haul her to her feet. Her eyes shot from one bloody body to the next, then to the holes in the walls and the overturned tables and chairs, taking in the destruction around them with wide eyes. “Oh, my God.”
Someone turned off the music and flicked on the lights behind the bar, and Kohl quickly turned his face away, hiding in the shadows.
She touched him on the forearm, her fingers digging into his skin. “Thank you.” Her voice shook, and she cleared her throat. “Thank you for protecting me. Or I’d probably be lying...” He heard a sob catch in her throat.
His skin tingled where she touched him. Covering his fangs with his lips, ignoring the prick of pain as the points jabbed into the soft flesh of his mouth, he covered her hand with his and gave her a nod.
Devon zeroed in on his eyes, her tears abating by the distraction. She became very still, her full lips parted on a quick inhale.
Fuck. His eyes. He’d forgotten about his eyes.
“Kohl.”
Hawke, the coven’s second oldest vampire, handed his pistol to one of the bouncers and came walking toward them, pushing his dark hair off his forehead. In spite of his age, his physical appearance was that of a man in the prime of his life.
His expression was grim as he reached out a hand to introduce himself to Devon. “Hello…” He let his sentence trail off, and looked at her expectantly.
She blinked and released Kohl’s arm, her attention successfully averted. “Devon,” she said. Her voice still shook, but only slightly. “My name is Devon.”
“Devon,” Hawke repeated. “What a lovely name. I’m Hawke. Are you hurt?”
Kohl quickly scanned her body, looking for injuries. He hadn’t even thought to check. She could be in shock. Her dress was dusty from the floor, but otherwise she appeared unharmed.
“No, I seem to be fine. Thanks to Kohl.” Her eyes lingered for a moment too long on his face before she turned back to Hawke.
He wished she wouldn’t study him like that. He had a feeling she saw way too much. Much more than his physical appearance.
Hawke snapped his fingers, and Andrew came forward.
“Please call Devon a cab and see that she gets safely into it.”
“I have my car—” she began.
“I’ll have it returned to you tomorrow. I don’t think you should be driving after such a traumatizing evening.”
“But, what about the police? Don’t I need to stay to give a statement? I think I got a pretty good look at one of the shooters.”
“The shooters are dead now.” Hawke swung his arm in a wide circle, taking in the pile of bodies leaking all over the floor. “As are most of our patrons, unfortunately.” He caught both of Devon’s hands in his, effectively capturing her attention again.
Kohl’s eyes fell to their joined hands and he exposed his fangs with a hiss. Hawke was his friend, but he didn’t like him touching her.
Hawke’s eyes flicked over to him before returning to Devon’s face, and he released her hands. “Let us get you safely home. It’ll ease my mind after all that’s happened tonight. We’ll handle the police. If anyone asks, just say you left before this all went down. There’s no need for you to be involved.”
Even though he’d let go of her hands, Hawke held her eyes with his, extending his influence over her just enough to keep her calm and get her to do what he wanted. Kohl clenched his teeth. He’d witnessed this game before, and he knew it was necessary, but he didn’t like him in her head any more than he liked him touching her.
Her eyes glazed over. “Okay,” she agreed amiably.
Hawke waved Andrew forward. He was already on his phone, calling for a driver.
Though the fire in his blood had cooled somewhat, Kohl was still fighting the effects of the heavy scent of blood. More so than the others. It was a never-ending battle for him.
He needed some air.
“Will you walk me out?”
He looked down at Devon, surprised by her request, then over at Hawke.
His friend took in his appearance, assessing where his head was, and gave Kohl a nod. “Help Andrew see her off. We’ll talk after.”
“I’ll be right back,” Kohl said. Placing his hand on Devon’s lower back, he escorted her around the ones who had fallen and out the back door. She obediently went with him, barely glancing at the gore around her.
The night was dark, but the motion light lit up a twenty-foot perimeter. Kohl didn’t need it, but proper lighting was an integral part of the illusion of the club. He peered into the shadows and smelled the air, assuring they were alone before he let Devon join him outside and allowed the door to shut behind them. The human’s New Year had just passed, and it was actually pretty cold for central Texas. The bare branches of oak trees reached toward the dark sky with skeletal fingers, their trunks kept warm by the smaller cypress and cedars. The grass was dead and straw-like, interspersed with clumps of prickly pear cactus.
Devon walked past him, then stopped and spun around. Calm radiated from her. Hawke’s influence. And for once, Kohl was glad of his interference.
“No cops are coming, are they?”
Kohl saw no reason to lie to her. She wouldn’t remember this conversation. He was one hundred percent positive Andrew was going to wipe her memories of this night before he put her in the cab. “No.”
She took the news with an air of composure. It didn’t surprise him as much as her next move.
Reaching up, she touched the corner of his mouth with her fingertips, near his fang. Then let her fingertips trail through the short hairs of his beard.
His upper lip twitched from her touch and he barely managed to repress the sound of pleasure her touch wrought. Kohl held perfectly still, unsure where she was going with this, but enjoying the nearness of her too much to stop her.
“What are you, Kohl?”
Again, there was no reason to outright lie. He knew she was one of the few humans in the world who were aware of creatures like him. It was the reason she had been in that courtroom.
Well, maybe not exactly like him.
“I’m…” He paused, rethinking his answer. “Different.” He’d very nearly revealed everything, but something stopped him at the last moment.
“I bet you are.”
The words were said in a light tone he knew was meant to be flirty, but there was still a trace of wonder there. Again, he wished he could read her thoughts.
The door opened behind Kohl, and Andrew joined them.
“Your cab is on its way,” he told Devon.
Her hand fell from Kohl’s face. She crossed her arms against the cold and thanked him. With a hint of a hesitant smile, she dropped her chin and kicked at a small stone stuck in the dirt.
Kohl felt the air rush from his lungs when her touch left him. “Andrew, give us a second, will you?”
“Hawke told me to make sure she got in the cab okay,” he said.
“She will. I just want a minute. Please.”
After a brief hesitation, Andrew gave him a nod. “I’ll be right inside. Just let me know when it gets here.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Sure thing.”
Kohl knew the only reason he was agreeing was because whatever happened between him and Devon, she wouldn’t remember. And so it wouldn’t become an issue.
The door closed behind Andrew, and Kohl suddenly found he had no idea what to say to her. But he wanted to say something, even if she wouldn’t remember it, something that would distract her from the horrors of the evening. “I saw you on the news,” he blurted. “That’s how I knew who you were.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Reminding her of a separate traumatic event wasn’t exactly what he’d been going for.
But she took it in stride. “I assumed,” she told him. “So, what’s with the eyes? I mean, they’re back to brown now, but earlier they were way lighter, and the pupils—”
He cut her off. “It was nothing, Devon.” Stepping closer, he noticed the way his heartbeat became much more pronounced and the warmth returned to his blood in response to being near her. He stopped just short of touching her, lest it got to be too much too soon. For some reason, this woman brought out the beast in him. Quite literally. “Look, I just wanted…” He searched her face, but the words wouldn’t come. So, he retreated again, placing one hand on the opposite shoulder as he scanned the trees behind her. He sighed heavily. “I don’t really know what I wanted.”
She observed his behavior with a lack of emotion that was a bit disconcerting coming from a human, even though he knew why she was so calm. And, he was glad Hawke had saved her from the horrors she’d just witnessed.
He crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking her stance. “I just wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
“Are you afraid of me?” she asked.
Something between a laugh and a snort came out of his mouth. “No. Why would I be afraid of you?” His eyes fell from her face, to her full chest and rounded hips, and back again. She was easily half his size. And human.
“I have no idea. Except your body language tells me otherwise.”
“So…what? You’re some kind of expert?”
“I don’t have to be. Though I did take some classes in college.” She nodded at his arms, still crossed in front of him. “You keep crossing your body with your arms, like you’re trying to force me to keep my distance. Which, by the way, is completely uncalled for, since it’s you who keeps coming at me.”
“I can’t seem to help it,” he told her honestly. Then he nodded at her own arms, crossed tightly across her body. “And it appears I’m not the only one.”
That shut her up fast, but only for a few seconds. “Why did you save me, Kohl?”
There was something in her tone, something he didn’t like hearing. Like she almost wished he hadn’t bothered. “I don’t know, but I’m glad I did.”
Again with the honesty. Following her lead from before, he left one arm across his chest and reached out with the other to touch the corner of her mouth with his fingertips. He ran his thumb over her lower lip. It was full and soft. Softer than he’d imagined.
He had the sudden urge to take it between his teeth.
Her heart stuttered at his touch, then began to race, pounding loudly in his ears. The beast stirred within him again, and he told himself he needed to stop…
Lights swung across them as the cab pulled up and parked at the end of the building. Kohl dropped his arm and stepped back. Without taking his eyes from her face, he rapped on the back door. “Cab’s here.”
“Kohl—” Devon reached for him, eyes wide with panic.
“It’s okay,” he told her. “It’ll be okay. Goodbye, Devon.” As Andrew came out, he turned away and stepped inside, pulling the door shut firmly behind him.
Alone, he braced his back against the cold metal and concentrated on breathing.
Fuck.
