Newsletter: Author Carla Swafford – ARCS & Happy Irish Day

(In The Middle of Chapter One)

Tori

Out of the corner of my eye, I noted the Mustang idling a block away. He was good. Certainly better than the others who’d tried to track me over the last few years. But if the truth were told, I really didn’t care if he followed. What was there to worry about?

I’d checked in with the Alabama master vampire over an hour ago. He’d been happy to see I’d returned home. If he hadn’t been my master—the vampire who created me—I would need his permission to stay in his domain. This would ensure they wouldn’t send an enforcer or assassin to remove me.

My only concern, momentarily, was the man following me. If he’d been a vampire, I would merely ask him to state his business. But with his being human, there was a different protocol. For now, the questions were, what did he want? And was he part of the LVH?

The Legion of Vampire Hunters drove white cars and vans, and it was unlikely they owned a sporty blue car like his. Possibly a human private detective had decided to follow me. Didn’t he  know curiosity killed the cat? Or the nosey investigator?

I grinned, flashing my deadly canines. It didn’t matter if someone saw them. In and around the club, others would only think I was part of the crowd, pretending to be a child of the night. Little did they know the real thing was among them.

Waved in by the bouncer, I threaded my way through the thick, pulsating crowd inside. The smell of sexually excited bodies filled my senses. The music thumped through my body. Couples swayed on the dance floor, many grinding pelvises together more than dancing.

As a human, I had enjoyed the night life and the pounding music. As a vampire, I absolutely loved it. So many sensations to drink in. I closed my eyes for a second and inhaled the wonderful smell of humanity. Liquor had nothing over heated bodies and hot blood. The high was better than a manmade drug, legal or illegal.

Strategic black lights lit the large room, leaving several dark corners, ideal for feeding. And I regularly exploited them. Dim lighting wasn’t a problem for me. Vampires’ night vision was excellent.

Tonight, blood didn’t drive me to the night club, but the need for human company. A frantic feeling saturated the air in the nightclub. A sensation in the air to live for the moment for tomorrow might never come. Like many, I believed in the fast-paced world—live fast, die young, and leave a good-looking corpse.

I sniggered at the ironic thought. I was a step above a corpse.

Coming to a stop at a corner booth, I stared at the young couple occupying the V-shaped bench seat. They completely ignored me. Their arms and legs entwined, clothes in disarray. I leaned over the table and lightly tugged at the man’s sleeve and then fanned five one-hundred-dollar bills in front of his face.

“What’s that for?” His eyes widened with interest.

“The booth?” With a hint of a smile, I waited for his decision.

He shrugged, snatched the cash out of my hand, and pulled the protesting girl out of the booth, heading toward the bar.

I slid in until my back was against the corner. A great place to see the majority of the room. With one leg tucked beneath me, I waited to see if my stalker had followed.

A little bit of time passed before he walked into the club. Though I’d seen him distinctly in the dark as he followed me in his Mustang, seeing him this close was a treat. So masculine and striking.

I studied him. He appeared to be six-foot, maybe six-one, late twenties. Looking at the lines around his eyes, I changed it to early thirties. His wind-tossed dark hair gave him the air of a poet or musician. Thick strands framed his lightly tanned, high-cheekboned face giving him an untamed look along with his five o’clock shadow. He had an aquiline nose above pouting lips. The type of lips that I would enjoy sucking and licking, and having the favor returned.

What would it be like to touch him, taste his blood? A shake of my head cleared my mind of that notion. Hunger for blood was always below the surface, but tonight my hunger was for what I sensed in the man.

Not since my reincarnation had a human interested or attracted me to such an extent I almost felt as if he spellbound me. But he wasn’t a warlock. Otherwise, I would sense the magic surrounding him.

While I studied him, I sensed his discomfort with the nightclub. Was he wondering how many were actually vampires? Would he be disappointed to find I was the only one in the club tonight? Did he actually know there was such a creature?

He was good. Not once had he looked my way, but still he maneuvered through the gyrating  crowd and stopped at the bar nearest to my booth. He motioned to the bartender and leaned over, probably so he could be heard. The bartender nodded and began to pull a draft.

Without glancing around, he sat on a stool and lifted his gaze, staring straight at me.

Such soulful hazel-green eyes. I sighed. Vampire vision was a blessing. Had he sensed me? Obviously, he knew where I sat. I was alone. Did he feel my interest? Was he psychically sensitive? Was that why my attraction for him was so strong?

Of course, the overwhelming question was, why was he following me? Well, I could wonder about him all night. Or with certainty, I could learn my answers the easy way. I gave him a big smile.