As they walked through the door, the pounding techno beat blared. Samantha slowly practiced her deep breathing, trying not to let Luca notice. She had said she wanted to do this, and she was determined to see it through. Samantha put on a mask of coolness as she observed naked girls serving drinks to customers. Straining to observe over a sea of bodies, it appeared a Domme and her sub were gearing up to engage in a public scene. A tall, lithe woman, dressed head to toe in spandex, led a good looking, muscular man around the room on a leash and proceeded to cuff his wrists to a Saint Andrew’s cross.
Watching the preparation, Samantha lost her concentration on her deep breathing. Inexplicably drawn to what was happening to the sub, her heart began to race. Was this what she’d done? She couldn’t help but notice that the man didn’t struggle. He willingly followed his mistress and held his arms out to her, his jutting excitement conspicuously revealed to the audience. Samantha wasn’t quite sure whether she was aroused by the sight of the virile stranger or disgusted, knowing it could have been her, a memory better forgotten. Conflicted, she could not tear her eyes from the unfolding exhibition. A cry of delight roared through the room as the Domme alternated between stroking him mercilessly and cracking the flat end of a riding crop against his reddening bottom.
Luca put his hand on Samantha’s elbow, jarring her from anxiety. He could tell from the fascinated look on her face that she’d never seen anything like she’d just witnessed. On the one hand, he cursed Asgear for fucking with her memory. Yet it was probably best she didn’t remember whatever had happened in the club.
Studying her face, he could see she was mesmerized by the intense sexual display. He observed her warring emotions. Was she excited by it? Perhaps. But her eyes told him she was also uneasy, anxious. She was worrying about things she couldn’t remember nor control. He needed to get her refocused on their purpose, so they could get out of there.
Luca guided her around a semi-circular bar and signaled the bartender. They were addressed promptly; two bottles of water were placed on the bar. Samantha had made it clear that she wasn’t drinking anything that didn’t come in a sealed container. After what had happened last time, she wasn’t taking any chances. Luca nodded at her and pointed to a small area that had been cordoned off by ultra-modern chrome leaf screens. It was partially open to allow the wait staff to enter and leave, but had no door.
“Over there. I’ll stand right outside the entrance while you search the area. Are you ready to do this?” he asked.
“Born ready,” she feigned confidence.
“Okay, let’s do it quickly.”
Several nude waitresses were leaving the break area as they approached the opening. Samantha winked at Luca and entered. The room was the size of a small walk-in closet, and she guessed that no more than four people could fit in there at a time. One way to keep the waitresses working. Plastic orange chairs lined one wall with a mini-fridge and plastic cups on the other side. Folded purple towels and blankets were piled high in a corner. Quickly she rummaged through the linens and refrigerator, but couldn’t find anything.
Disappointed, she exited the room, and Luca caught the crook of her arm.
“Nothing, I found nothing,” she commented tersely.
“Come dance with me,” he whispered into her ear.
Nina Simone’s I Put a Spell on You began to play as Luca pulled her out onto the dance floor. She felt herself melt into his body as he put a hand to the small of her back and held his other hand to her throat, slowly brushing his fingers down the hollow of her neck. Without words, he pressed his lips to hers, tasting her, deepening the kiss as she reached her hands around his neck.
Within seconds, she’d lost control, digging her hands into his hair. Desire pooled below, as she began grinding against his hardness. She wanted to make love to him there, not caring who was watching.
Grudgingly, Luca began to withdraw. Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead down to hers. “Ah Samantha, I want you so much. But we can’t do this here. We’ve gotta go back to the room where Dominique was silvered. Check it out.” He was breathing hard, struggling to compose himself. A year ago, he’d have had no problem having sex in a club like Sangre Dulce. He wasn’t in the lifestyle but liked to play lightly every now and then. When a vampire had lived as long as he had, he or she was always looking for something on the edge to spice up life. But now was not the time to get carried away; he’d only brought her out to the floor to talk with her briefly before they went to the private rooms.
“Back there.” He nodded towards an entrance covered in red-beaded fringe. “We’ll walk back together. Hold my hand and stay close. Sometimes people gather at the rooms to watch; we’ll just walk around them.”
“Any chance I can use the ladies’ room before we go? Somebody has me all hot and bothered,” she teased.
“Yes, come on, let’s go. I want to get home as soon as possible so I can finish what we’ve started on the dance floor.” It was more of a promise than a joke.
Léopold watched the mortal girl dance with Luca, cursing their pleasure. They were supposed to be finding him the Hematilly Periapt; instead, they were mauling each other like oversexed teenagers. He was sure Asgear had given it her, and she would lead him to it, even if he had to grab her by her long red hair and drag her through the streets of New Orleans himself.
Anger raced through his veins; he was incensed with their cavalier attitude. Obviously, she needed a reminder of her task. He’d thought the fire would have been enough to frighten her into this much-needed search. He required the amulet…now.
Luca spied Étienne and Xavier sitting at the bar, and casually nodded. He planned on introducing Samantha to them another time, letting them remain in the background. He watched as she took off down a long open hallway to the rest room. It was dimly lit with black lights and tea-light candles that sat in ceramic luminaires. As he turned back, Étienne and Xavier had crossed the room to meet him. He wanted to quickly brief them on the plan. They’d stay twenty feet behind them and watch for an ambush.
Samantha patted her face down with a paper towel and prided herself for holding it together. Not remembering a damn thing helped, she mused. But she didn’t regret spending time with Luca. She found herself wanting to stay in New Orleans with him. She wasn’t sure if he really meant it when he said that he didn’t want to let her go. The more time she spent with him, the more she said goodbye to her old life.
Exiting the ladies room, dark smoke filled the hallway. Before she had the opportunity to register the cause, she found herself shoved against the wall. A large hand covered her mouth, while the attacker’s body flattened against hers, effectively caging and immobilizing her. Unable to speak or move, her eyes widened at the stranger.
“Do not make a sound. I am going to release your mouth. If you scream, I will take you out of here. If you’re quiet, I’ll let you go. If you understand, nod your head,” Léopold instructed.
Samantha did what he said, quietly pursing her lips together. She wanted to scream, but wasn’t convinced he would not hurt her. There was something otherworldly about him. His hardened raven eyes seemed to pierce right through her, pinning her in place, like a dried butterfly stuck to a display board. She could see the slightest hint of candlelight glinting off the sharp edges of his fangs. Vampire.
“Maybe I haven’t been clear, Samantha,” he began.