Four Centuries (Damned and Cursed Book 7) (5 page)

"Excuse me," a voice said behind her.
 
"Excuse me, miss?"

She turned back to see the busty bartender staring at her.
 
The bartender offered a smile that quickly turned apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, but we don't charge a cover to get in here.
 
So you have to buy a drink."
 
She lowered her voice.
 
"The owner freaks out if he sees someone without a drink, or not throwing tips around."

"Oh, okay."
 
She unzipped her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill.
 
"Just give me a water, please.
 
Keep the change."

The bartender smiled, truly grateful.
 
"Thank you so much."

She extended the bottle of water, but pulled her arm back.
 
A pair of tan legs strutting by interrupted the transaction.
 
The bartender looked up at the dancer, and seemed to shrink within herself when the dancer glared back.
 
The dancer stopped several patrons away and squatted down to shove her private areas in a man's face, who was only too happy to visually inspect them.

Victoria watched the interaction, fascinated.
 
She accepted her water, which she had no intention of drinking.

"I'm Victoria," she offered.

The bartender was surprised for a moment, looking left and right, before realizing Victoria was speaking to her.
 
The vampire laughed and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm speaking to you.
 
I'm Victoria.
 
What's your name?"

"Bree."

"Hi, Bree.
 
What was all that about?"

Bree kept her gaze low as she poured a drink for a man behind her.

"Nothing, really."

"It didn't look like nothing."

"It's okay.
 
That was just Michelle, marking her territory.
 
They're the ones the people come to see.
 
My job?
 
Keep the drinks flowing."

"I hear a little sadness in there."

"No.
 
I love my job.
 
I do.
 
It's just…sometimes I feel real small, next to the ladies here."

"There's more to life than having men admire you."
 
Victoria smiled.
 
"I hear there's also chocolate."

"I know.
 
Let's drink to that."

Bree poured herself a drink.
 
Victoria wouldn't have cared if she didn't pay, but was impressed when she watched Bree open the register and slide money in for her own drink.

"To chocolate."

They clinked their alcohol and water together, and Bree downed her shot.
 
The pair talked for another ten minutes, trading stories and laughing.
 
Bree shared her dreams and goals, which didn't involve pouring drinks behind a bar.
 
She wanted to study nursing.
 
Victoria offered altered versions of her own tales, omitting that they took place over four centuries.

They were in the middle of watching the members of the bachelor party, nearly falling over themselves.
 
They shoved the groom-to-be on stage, where he received his own personal, public lap dance.
 
The crowed clapped and applauded, and Victoria found herself laughing at the embarrassment on his face.
 
Bree gestured to the unopened bottle, still in Victoria's hand.

"You haven't touched your water."

A voice cut in behind her.

"That doesn't surprise me.
 
Victoria needs something a little stronger than water."

She spun to see Tony, walking toward her.
 
He laughed heartily, shaking his head at the sight of her.
 
Tony was a tiny man, a complete physical mismatch for his voice.
 
He stood slightly shorter than Victoria.
 
His hair was nearly gone, and he'd decided to beat nature to the punch by shaving his head.
 
Victoria almost reached out for a hug, but then remembered who she was dealing with.
 
Tony didn't hug.
 
Instead, she extended her hand, which he gladly took.
 
He kissed her gently beneath her knuckles, bringing back a time long gone.
 
They drew a few amused glances from the people around them, but those glances quickly returned to the world of flesh.
 
She used to think it was creepy, but she now found it adorable.
 
He first kissed her hand when he was five years old.

"How are you doing, Victoria?
 
You changed your hair.
 
I like the bangs."

"Why thank you.
 
A new look every now and then suits a girl."

He sidled up in the seat next to her and smiled at Bree.

"Bree, could I get a shot of Bourbon?
 
Thanks."

Her eyes told a bit of anxiety as she poured the drink.

"You two…know each other?"

"We should.
 
She's my partner in this hell-hole."

Victoria thought Bree was going to pass out.

"You
own
the place?"

"Just a small piece."
 
Victoria held her thumb and index finger an inch apart.
 
"At least it
feels
small, the way those checks are looking."

"Ha.
 
Funny.
 
Is Bree treating you okay?"

"Great," she said, giving Bree a wink.
 
"You hired smart with this one."

Tony chuckled.
 
"I get one right every now and then."
 
He smiled as Victoria stifled a yawn.
 
"Aww, sleepy?
 
I thought you were supposed to be a night owl.
 
Is the club not entertaining enough?"

He didn't realize Victoria had changed her sleep cycle.
 
She wasn't only a creature of the night anymore.
 
She chose to sleep with the mortals.
 
But she wouldn't tell Tony that.

"I've been busy," she offered instead.
 
"I have to go to India in a few days."

"India?
 
Why?"

She lowered her gaze.
 
"A friend died, and I'm tying up some loose ends for him.
 
It's the least I can do."

"Victoria, I'm so sorry."
 
He reached for her hand, which she gently squeezed.
 
She managed a small smile, but the thought of Bradley always brought about a wealth of memories.

Vampires tended to maintain strong, long relationships with the chosen few other immortals they called friends.
 
Humans came and went, and the world was always changing.
 
But if a vampire was lucky enough to find kinship in another of their kind's company, something special happened.
 
An anchor was formed, a safe harbor.
 
Bradley was Victoria's safe harbor, especially in the ninety years the closest person to her, Jack Kursed, decided to hold a grudge and play the silent game.

She missed Bradley so much.

"If there's anything I can do," Tony said.
 
"Please, let me know."

Leaning forward, she kissed him gently on the cheek.
 
A warm, rather unusual moment, considering not far away an exotic dancer was engaging in the oldest profession, threatening to burst Victoria's ears.

"Thank you, Tony."

"I won't waste any more of your time—"

"You are
never
a waste of time."

He nodded and smiled.
 
"Let's go talk in my office."

The pair rose, but Tony leaned across the bar and gestured for Bree to draw closer.

"You're doing wonderful," he whispered.
 
"Don't worry about Michelle."

Victoria smiled.
 
Tony's working life had been an uphill battle.
 
He fought constant stereotypes about the nature of his business.
 
Everyone automatically assumed he was a sleaze-ball.
 
He was always getting pulled in different directions.
 
Managing the bars, settling fights between the women, making people happy.
 
He didn't see everything.
 
But he did care.
 
He treated every single person who worked for him with respect.

She waved goodbye to Bree and followed Tony across the club.
 
In the distance, she could hear the lap dance with benefits wrapping up in the private booth.

"I bought this place for your great-grandfather, as a favor to him," Victoria said.
 
"Mortals used to have to say a password, to get to where the alcohol was.
 
You've turned it into this."

"Hey, give me a break.
 
I can't help it if sex sells."

She wasn't condemning him, just observing the passage of time and its sense of humor.
 
Although she did laugh shortly at his timing and choice of words.
 
She wondered if he was aware of sex literally selling twenty feet away.

Tony held the door open for her and closed it behind him.
 
The sounds of the club muffled and dulled.
 
Victoria froze in place and frowned in confusion at the sight before her.

Tony's office was typical enough.
 
An old, beat-up desk that had been in the family for decades.
 
A computer, a tiny fridge against the back wall.
 
A monstrous file cabinet was behind the desk.
 
Several personal pictures lined the walls, with friends and family, along with group photos of the dancers.
 
A picture of Tony and Victoria was among them, from ten years ago, when he actually had hair.

The only thing out of place in the office was the mortal woman, sleeping on a cot in the corner.

She was young, in her early twenties, with pixie-cut blond hair.
 
She slept covered with only a sheet, her clothes wadded in a ball on the floor.
 
Her skin was pale, paler than it should have been.
 
If it weren't for the scent of mortal Victoria would have mistaken her for a vampire.

She stirred quietly, moaning from a dream.
 
The sheet fell somewhat, revealing a breast with a pierced nipple.
 
Victoria reached down and covered the young woman up.
 
It was a simple motion, one that made her feel like a grandmother.
 
Rather, at her age, a grandmother with several
greats
proceeding it.

While an unusual sight to Victoria, she imagined it wasn't for Tony.
 
He probably kept a cot for the many late days and nights on the job.
 
She also knew he was a caring man, always looking out for others.
 
The occasional mortal so drunk they couldn't walk, or the dancer with the home life they were escaping.
 
She guessed the cot supported many sleeping bodies over time.

Victoria stood up straight and looked at Tony, waiting for him to get down to business.
 
He said nothing, simply watching the woman sadly.
 
Reading his eyes, Victoria realized the woman on the cot was why she was there.

"This is Emma," he said.
 
"One of my girls."

Coming from anyone else,
one of my girls
might have sounded awkward, but from him it was anything but.
 
There was compassion in his voice, concern in his gaze.

Victoria said nothing.
 
She approached Emma once again and pulled the shirt down to her waist.
 
Emma had a tattoo of a hummingbird on her hip, and a navel piercing to go with the ones through her nipples.
 
Victoria leaned in close, her nose only inches away from Emma's skin.
 
She sniffed quickly, short and succinct, as she moved up and down Emma's body.
 
The missing sheet brought goosebumps to her skin.
 
Vanilla body lotion.
 
Lavender shampoo.
 
The fading scent of a man.
 
She'd had sex recently.
 
No drugs, no alcohol.

Victoria nearly stood back up until she noticed something small on her neck.
 
She gently tilted Emma's head to the side to get a closer look.
 
Her heart sank when she realized what it was.

Very faint scar tissue.

"Oh, Emma," she said sadly.

She covered Emma with the sheet.
 
Emma let out a contented sigh and turned on her side.
 
Victoria assumed her full height and stood next to Tony.
 
He waited patiently for an explanation.

"She's weak, probably missing a lot of blood," she said.
 
"She's addicted."

"Addicted?"

"We secrete an enzyme when we feed.
 
It toys with the pleasure center of the brain.
 
Makes our job a lot easier in keeping a mortal still, and makes the orgasm pretty strong too, if we go that far."
 
She scowled.
 
"Not like the shit I dealt with earlier."
 
Casting him a sideways glance, she gave him a half-smile.
 
"I've fed from you before.
 
You enjoyed it, right?"

His cheeks turned red at the memory, and his scent changed slightly.

"Uh, well, yeah.
 
I mean…it was okay.
 
I was a little younger back then and everything.
 
So, you know…."

Victoria said nothing, simply enjoying watching Tony squirm.
 
He met her gaze, then looked away, staring at an imaginary spot on the floor.