Aden

Page 2

“So,” Sid said, taking a sidling step away from Trav’s nervous twitching. “Any idea who’s going to win this thing?”
“Sure, no question. See the big guy over there?”
“I see a lot of big guys, Trav. Just point him out for me.”
“Wow, great idea! These guys are pumping adrenaline like prize fighters on cocaine, but I’ll just stick my finger at the baddest guy in the room for you. You can scoop up my ashes later.”
“Don’t be dramatic. Can you at least give me a clue?”
“He’s the one standing alone over there, no drink in his hand.”
Sid scanned the crowd in the direction Travis indicated and huffed an exasperated breath. For fuck’s sake, most of the vampires here were standing alone. According to Travis in his less dramatic moments, tonight was about the contenders displaying their power, kind of like animals giving off aggression pheromones during the rut or something. She figured it wouldn’t be long before one of these guys pulled out his dick and start spraying everything in sight. The mental image had her snickering, but her laughter died in her throat when her gaze fell on him.
Oh, yeah. Trav had been right. He was standing alone. But his aloneness was more than a physical separation, it was an invisible wall that kept anyone from getting too close, a force field of get the fuck away from me.
“What’s his name?” she whispered, afraid he could hear her somehow from across the room.
“Aden,” Travis supplied, and his voice was quiet and drenched in awe . . . and something else. Worship?
“Do you know him?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I mean, we’re not buds or anything, but . . . he’s the one.”
“I want to meet him.”
Travis laughed. “Right.”
“I’m serious,” she said, tugging on his hand. “Introduce me.”
He shrugged. “Introduce yourself, babe. Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”
Sid tightened her hold on Travis’s fingers, though whether it was to keep herself from moving or to drag him along with, she couldn’t have said. Either way, it didn’t matter, because Trav had a mind of his own, and he was a vampire. He wasn’t going anywhere he didn’t want to. He shook his fingers free.
“You’re on your own for this one,” he said, “but take a tip from someone who knows . . . be polite.”
She scowled. “I’m always polite.”
“Sid, what’s your gut telling you right now? Be honest.”
She glanced over at him in surprise. This was more serious than she’d ever seen Travis, and it made her swallow the clever response on her tongue and go with the truth instead. “My gut’s afraid of him.”
“You’ve got a smart gut. Talk to him if you want, but listen to your gut and watch what you say.”
Sid flattened her lips in irritation, then quickly rolled them together, not wanting to ruin her lipstick. She hated using her looks instead of her brain, but first impressions mattered, and she’d use every weapon she had. She found herself considering a dash to the restroom for a quick makeup check and discarded that idea, seeing it for the act of cowardice it was. This was what she’d been waiting for, what she’d spent the last several months working toward, a chance to meet someone who could make a difference. And if this Aden really was going to be the next vampire lord, she couldn’t afford to blow it.
She sucked in a breath and started across the room. She took a roundabout path, moving from cluster to cluster of gala goers, both human and vampire, stopping for a few minutes and pretending to join in the conversation, then moving on. And all the while she kept an eye on her target, studying him.
As she’d told Trav, there were a lot of big guys in the room. And not just big, but unusually good-looking. Professor Dresner had offered the theory that what she called the vampire symbiote—the thing that turned an ordinary human into a vampire—worked a lot of physiological changes on its host for its own survival. The most obvious changes were the new vampire’s need for blood and an aversion to sunlight. But there were additional, more subtle, changes that happened over time, things that made vampires better hunters, made them more attractive to their human prey. The professor had suggested that vamps eventually became better looking, because the longer they were a vampire, the more time the symbiote had to work on them.
Sid didn’t know if that was true or not, but she did know that there were a hell of a lot of gorgeous men here. Far too many for it to be random.
But even in a room filled with handsome men, Aden stood out. He was beautiful and wild, an untamed beast who’d donned a tuxedo for the night. It was a thin veneer of civility, and one that barely managed to contain his savagery as he scanned the gathering with a predator’s gaze, a single breath away from ripping out someone’s throat.
She glanced away, then back, and caught him watching her. She shifted her gaze quickly, but not before she saw that he hadn’t bothered to do the same. He stared at her unabashedly, his eyes so dark that at first she’d thought they were black. But then the light caught them just right, and she realized they were the deepest dark blue, with thick, black lashes that flirted with his sharp cheekbones on every lazy blink. His wavy hair was as black as his lashes, a little too long and curling above the stiff white collar of his formal shirt. He had a sexy mouth, full and soft-looking, but saved from pure sensuality by a touch of cruelty that tilted his lips into a small smile as he eyed her approach.
Sid closed the final few steps between them and stopped, shocked, now that she was closer to him, at how big he really was. Not just tall, though he was well over six feet, but with broad shoulders and a deep chest that hinted at plenty of muscle mass underneath the designer tux.
She drew a breath and plunged ahead. “Lord Aden,” she greeted him, going with a friendly but respectful approach.
He raised a single eyebrow in response. She waited for him to do more, to say something, anything. To ask how she knew his name, if nothing else. But the eyebrow was the only reaction she got.
Sid gave a careless shrug. “I do my homework like any other reporter,” she said, pretending he’d actually asked the question. “I asked my sources which vampire was the most likely to win this . . . whatever you call it,” she said, gesturing at the gathering of vampires. “And your name was the only one that came up.”
He regarded her a moment longer before his gaze dropped in a typical male response and did a quick toe to chest scan, starting with her Louboutin peep-toe pumps—far too cold for a Chicago winter—raking up silk-clad legs, taking in her short, form-fitting silk sheath, with its bare shoulders and arms, and ending with a sneering glance at the mandarin neckline, which was so high that it nearly met her chin.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Reid?” he asked, his voice a deep growl of sound that had her heart kicking into high gear even before she’d processed what he’d said.
Her eyes flashed to his face. “How do you know—”
He laughed, and it wasn’t a happy sound. “You played Travis for three weeks to get into this party. I created him three decades before you were born. Do you really think he’d bring a human around without my permission? I do my homework, too, sweetheart.”
“I didn’t know he was—”
“That much is obvious. So, why are you here? Not for the party, I’m guessing,” he added, eyeing her unsubtle choice of neckwear.
“No,” she said quickly. “I don’t—” She was going to tell him she didn’t play in vampire circles, that she was no one’s food, but something in his eyes made her stop. She froze beneath that gaze, abruptly aware of every breath moving in and out of her lungs, of her heart pounding within her chest until she was sure he could see it thumping beneath the second skin of her tight dress. She bit her lip nervously, and Aden’s hooded gaze grew heavier. God, he was beautiful. She wondered just for a moment what it would be like to bed someone like him. A powerful vampire. Sexy, savage, uncontrollable. An image flashed across her brain of a naked Aden lying beneath her, muscles flexing, strong hands locked on her hips, slamming deep between her thighs with every upward thrust as she thrashed helplessly above him.
And she realized her body was already responding to the vision. Heat was pooling between her thighs, right where she’d imagined him pounding into her, and she was afraid to look down for fear she’d find her nipples visibly swollen and demanding attention.
She shot a nervous glance at Aden and saw one corner of his sensuous mouth curve slowly upward, as if he knew what she was thinking, knew what her body was feeling. She pushed such thoughts forcibly out of her head. She had no intention of falling under any vampire’s spell, much less one as dangerous as Aden.
“You were saying?” he prodded her smugly.
Sid wished viciously for a nice sharp stake.
“If you’re the next vampire lord,” she said intentionally, “then I’d like to meet with you. There are things going on in this city, crimes against humanity that you may not be aware of.”
He frowned. “Such as?”
“This is not the place, Lord Aden. But know this: they enslaved and killed a friend of mine, and I intend to expose every—”
His gaze hardened, every bit of seduction vanishing in an instant. “You will come to my office tomorrow night.” He reached into an inner pocket and produced a thick white business card, flipping it through his fingers as he held it out to her.
Sid didn’t take well to orders, especially not from rude, but sexy, vampires. Her gut reaction was to tell him to shove it, but that would have been stupid. And stupidity was not one of her many faults. This was what she’d wanted—a private meeting with the next Midwestern Vampire Lord—and he was offering it to her. Okay, so he’d pretty much ordered her to show up, but she wasn’t going to argue semantics when the inside track she needed was being offered up on a platter. Or, in this case, a business card.