“You guessed right,” Jake says, using his capabilities to read my thoughts. “Take care, Riley. And stay close to Miles. He’s the best chance you’ve got right now.”
“I will,” I answer. Jake hangs up, and I hand the phone back to Noah. “I’m sorry,” I say. And I mean it. “I . . . panicked, I guess. I saw Eli. He moved. I followed. I didn’t think.”
Noah jams his cell phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Yeah. You just don’t want me to cuff you.” He grins. “To me.”
I like that there’s still some small part of Noah, post vow-making to keep me safe, that is still lighthearted enough to joke around. If anyone wanted to be cuffed to me, it’d be Noah Miles, perverted vampire extraordinaire. I miss the old Noah. Nasty as hell, but fun.
His grin widens as he, too, reads my mind. “Let’s go.”
I guess nothing’s fun anymore. Definitely nothing normal. And none of it will be until all of this crazy shit is fixed.
And Eli is back with me. Safe.
We then hit the streets. I have a sense of unsettledness. It’s hard to explain. I’m on edge, like I feel something is so very not right. Something besides Eli’s unpredictability. With Noah on one side of the street, and me on the other, we search. Listen. Smell the air. Neither of us catches the first sign of a predator. Or a victim.
By nine, Noah holds the door for me as we enter Hush 51. It’s Friday night, and while not many tourists are lingering in Inverness, the local crowd—especially the college crowd—has packed the club. There’s alcohol. Maybe light drugs. Either way, it makes a human vulnerable, as well as an easy target for a vampire on the prowl. Noah had suggested we hit the club, and I’d agreed. Plus, I was a little curious about Rhine and his bandmates.
The dark wood interior of Hush 51 is polished and shining, and the low lights cast an amber hue over the crowd standing and sitting before the band. Rhine sees us enter, and he grins widely and gives us a nod.
“Aye, aye, settle down, ye feisty wicked pub jumpers,” a man with a Hush 51 T-shirt announces at the mic. “Hard Knox, if ye fancy—”
The locals cheer and yell, and Rhine and the guys start up. So their band is called Hard Knox. Pretty cool. The pub is quaking and humming with music, and for a second I’m distracted by Rhine’s voice. It’s pretty goddamn good. I listen to him as my gaze slides over the crowd. I’m now at the bar, and I nod at the bartender. “Aye, lass?” he says with a smile. The gap between his front teeth is endearing.
“Pint,” I respond, and he serves me one. I take a sip. Noah’s right next to me.
Then all at once, everything happens. It’s as if, without my permission, my own tendencies turn on at the same time. Rhine’s voice fades. The patrons’ voices fine-tune, and all their words are going off at once in my head. A cold, icy sensation washes over me, and instinctively, I turn around on my barstool and glance toward the far corner.
Noah’s leather jacket creaks from the motion of him turning, too.
Eli’s there. A woman’s beside him. Tall. Almost as tall as he is. Dark, long auburn hair that falls in waves to her waist. Flawless alabaster skin and pouty full lips. Who the hell is she?
At the same moment my brain sends a message to my legs, I slide off the barstool. My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest. They’re both looking at me, Eli and the woman, and just as I’m about to start making my way through the crowd, the woman reaches up and grazes Eli’s jaw with her hand. She smiles at me. My eyes lock with Eli’s.
He knows me. I can see it. And I can also see his eyes flash with . . . something. Regret? Struggle? What the hell?
Then a darkness clouds Eli’s eyes, and he lowers his head, presses his mouth to hers, and kisses her.
I’m frozen to the floor, unable to breathe, much less move. I actually wheeze as my breath leaves my lungs. It’s painful, and a little dizzying. The crowd seems oblivious of me as I stare, paralyzed, while Eli seductively makes out with the redhead. Emotions run through me fast, and before I finish with pain and sorrow, fury takes over. I feel a hand on my shoulder. It’s Noah, and I reach behind me and grab his hand. My eyes are locked on to Eli and the woman. I start to move toward them. The overwhelming urge to kick her ass takes over me. My body tenses. Noah squeezes my hand.
And that’s when the woman breaks Eli’s kiss and looks dead at me.
Her tongue runs across her lips. And then she smiles and beckons to me with a long, delicate finger. I hear her voice, melodic tinged with an ancient accent, in my head.
Come here, Riley Poe. I’ve got something to show you. Something that’s mine. . . .
I hear Rhine’s voice over the mic, his sexy sound crooning over the crowd. Drums. Keyboard. Fiddle. Bass. My feet start to move, as if they’ve been instructed to do so against my will, and my hand drops Noah’s as I weave through the crowd.
Toward the woman and Eli.
The music almost lulls me into a trance as I ease through the crowd. I don’t understand why my body is complying, and why I’m not running full force at the woman, knocking her back, and grabbing and shaking Eli until he snaps out of whatever weird zombie state he’s in. But I can’t. I just keep walking toward them. The woman continues to beckon me, and she slips her hand inside Eli’s jacket. She places her head against his chest, and Eli’s arm drapes around her shoulders and pulls her tightly against him. He’s not looking at me. Not meeting my gaze now.
Even with my eyes glued to the chilling smile on the woman’s face, I can’t stop.
When I step through the last couple, dancing and singing along with Rhine’s band, the lights are now flickering to keep with the beat. The music hums just under the surface of my skin, a fierce vibration that keeps me fixated on only what’s in front of me. Eli and this new woman. I’m now less than two feet from them both, and the woman looks at me with icy blue eyes. Her full lips tip upward, and her tongue darts out to lick her bottom one. She smiles.
Watch us.
My eyes are locked onto the woman and Eli less than two feet away as she tips her head to the side and draws closer to Eli. His eyes, those cerulean blue and sometimes stormy orbs that I fell in love with, pierce me now, and for a split second, I see hesitation. A flash of anger in his eyes. Then he stiffens, and those eyes now stay focused on my gaze as he lowers his head and moves his mouth over the woman’s. His hand threads through her hair, pulling her head backward just a bit, and his other hand skims her throat and grasps her jaw. His tongue sweeps hers, the light glistening off its moisture, and their passion is as palpable as my own pulse. Not once does his gaze leave mine as he kisses her. The lights flash, the music thumps, and I can’t do anything except stand there and watch them. As if I’m rooted to the wooden floor beneath me, paralyzed in place to stand and watch my fiancé engage in a sensual, sexually charged kiss with another woman.
I try to turn my head, but I can’t. Literally, physically can’t. Inside, I’m screaming. I’m dying. I’m having a mental Jerry Springer moment where I’ve kicked off my boots, yanking that bitch off the chair by her hair and whipping her ass for kissing my man. But it’s all mental. I can’t do a single thing except watch.
The woman drops her hand from Eli’s chest and lets it drag slowly down his abdomen. He pulls her closer, and her hand moves over his crotch. Eli’s mouth leaves hers and he kisses her throat, and his eyes are hazed and locked on to mine as his mouth tips up in a grin. All the while, Rhine’s music jams the club, and everyone around us is rocking and singing, having a swell time. It’s as if no one else notices that Eli and this woman are nearly having sex, right out in the open. Like no one else sees them but me. Like no one sees me, either. Where the hell is Noah?