Chapter 2.Cecilia

  I cursed myself for wearing a dress without pockets. My phone was in my purse with my jacket at the coat check and I was desperate to check my social media.

  It was rumored that my favorite Korean boyband PONPON was about to go on tour. I’d gotten in the habit of checking their accounts every five minutes around the clock. I needed to have my finger ready to hit the BUY NOW button the very second that pre-sale went live. What if it was happening right now as I stood here in the middle of the ballroom?

  As. This dress was skin tight, and there were no pockets to be had. Work was more important and had to come first, anyway. Work was the reason I was here, pretending to enjoy my present, actually revolting company.

  Jagger had been the biggest pain in the collective mortal realm’s behind since the sixteenth century. Every few decades, the demon pop his little ugly head up with some asinine get-rich-quick-scheme. In the 19th century, he was the leading purveyor of “cure-all” tonics, the snake oils that only served to kill thousands, perhaps even more. In the 20th century, he started dabbling in weapons manufactoring. Mustard gas? Thank the demons for that Gods awful technology.

  Protected by his father Dimuldus, Jagger never had to worry about the repercussions of his vnetures. His father was also the reason he escaped any kind of justice. And escape he did– almost every time the heinous man was apprehended, he always found a way to slip through our fingers.

  The demon was bold this time around, taking on the appearance of a shy, reclusive billionaire.

  Terrence Brior, the CEO of Techfield, was a programmer. Not a socialite.

  But you wouldn’t know it with the way Jagger, pretending to be Terrence, is pying up the crowd. Telling jokes and exagerated stories. Getting everyone eating out of the palm of his hand.

  Most of that charm is part of his demonic magic. He can ensnare like a vampire can, though not as well. And certainly not with the caliber of my vampire. By mine, I mean the vampire Quill who is standing in the ballroom only yards from me in his dated, but beautifully tailored tuxedo.

  He was the st person in the mortal realm that I had expected to see.

  Quill is startlingly beautiful. Tall, toned, elegant. His bck hair was pulled back and his beard had been carefully trimmed, likely for the ga. His hand was in his bck trouser’s pocket while his other hand held onto his drink as he spoke to me.

  I stared at the amber liquid. Whisky neat, as always.

  His eyes were the color of a dark oak, with dark heavy shes that would make any woman envious. His slim nose and wide mouth made him look every bit seductive and dangerous as his vampire nature would suggest.

  On the flipside, there was also a gauntness in him that startled me… a tired vacancy in his gaze. None of the overly confident swagger and brawn I had once been accustomed to.

  Quill gave a risky, but appealing opportunity to end this night quickly. If we followed his pn– I might be able to end this mission once and for all. Jagger would face consequences for his terrible deeds and I could get my concert tickets. A happy ending if I’d ever heard one.

  But Quill had upset those pns. I hung on to his every word like he spoke gospel truths. Every second I lingered in his presence, I remembered and ached for the life we once shared. But the connection ended as soon as it began, when I was forced to turn away from him, to return to Terrence.

  I was no longer transfixed by the vampire, now left in the dark aftermath of my shame and confusion of my feelings.

  I shouldn’t have spoken to him! Foolish, selfish Cecilia. So foolish! I shouldn’t have even told him my name.

  The truth of the matter was I couldn’t back out now.

  “Cecy,” Terrence-actually-Jagger says to me with a grin when I returned to his side. For the record, I didn’t tell him he could call me that. I abhorred that nickname.

  We had met by “accident” at a fundraiser event two weeks prior, a set-up by my overseers that pyed directly into Jagger’s hand.

  “Where have you been, beauty?” he asked. I held out the drink to him.

  “Sorry,” I said with a small smile. “It was a long line at the bar.”

  He gave me a once over in approval and then looked at the group circled around us. “Did you all know Cecy is an event pnner? She organized the entire fundraiser at the Met st week. Seamless. That’s what I kept telling her. The whole thing was seamless!”

  I smiled uncomfortably. “Yep! I love to… organize. Events.” I don’t know if I’m selling that well. Lying was never my strong suit.

  Jagger’s fingers wrapped around my waist and I blinked as my hip is uncomfortably crushed against his side.

  Initially, I denied Quill’s insistence that Jagger saw me as anything more than a friend. Maybe I was in denial. It was in my nature to see the better side of people, not naivety. At this point, it was just stubborn wishful thinking.

  I will admit, more often than not, I set myself up for disappointment. Because I was still hoping that Jagger hadn’t invited me as a sexual prospect.

  Except now, I feel his fingertips gently glide over my bottom.

  I held back a sigh. This was the opening Quill probably wanted me to go for.

  My head turned so that my lips were near the shell of his ear. His breath smelled like charcoal and the faintest hint of sulphur. No amount of cologne could cover that distinct demonic stench. Blech.

  “Terrence, can we… go somewhere quiet just for a moment? There’s something I’d like to show you.”

  Jagger turned his head just slightly to look at me with surprise. As Terrence, he slowly grinned and turned to the group. “We’ll be back shortly, friends.”

  I took his arm and we broke from the group and began to depart the ballroom. Now separated from the congregation, I gnced back at the bar. Quill was gone.

  I frowned. He couldn’t have gone far, right?

  I took Terrence down a dark hallway, growing nervous as he began urging me forward instead of the other way around, and my high heels began clicking more urgently as our pace increased.

  At the end of the hallway there was a tiny alcove between two rge marble columns that I was immediately shoved into.

  “I love how the most innocent-looking ones are always the dirtiest,” Terrence whispers roughly in my ear. I can feel his crotch grinding against my stomach as he corners me with his body that loomed over mine by several inches.

  I don’t want to kiss him. The thought of tasting sulphur on my mouth makes me want to vomit, honestly. Instead, I let him kiss my shoulder and my neck, let his fingers curl into my hair while I hide my grimace.

  “Slow… down, please,” I whisper. Gods above! This really was a dumb pn. I shut my eyes as his fingers begin to roam, holding back my disgust as his touches turn into unsavory gropes.

  “You are built like a Goddess of love,” he whispers against my neck, and I can smell the charcoal. “So utterly fuckable.”

  I hide another gag. “What about… your wife, Terrence?” I managed.

  “Who, now?”

  “Your wife.”

  He paused and I took a moment to enjoy the reprieve from his nauseating touch.

  “Oh. That. Well, let’s pretend tonight that we’re both single. Mm?”

  So much for having a conscience. When he grabs my breast roughly I held back a cry and py one of my favorite songs in my head. PONPON’s test single is bopping in my head while I shut my eyes and pray that the vampire shows up.

  The song in my head does nothing to distract me. Make the nightmare stop. Make this stop.

  “Ah, Jagger!” Quill calls down the hall. I hear his voice echo down the hallway and my eyes fly open. “There you are!”

  Jagger-Terrence tenses against me. Slowly, his widened eyes swivel around to Quill, who is standing behind us.

  “Kindly step away from my girl.”

  My girl. Gods. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying. I’m hit with the pain of a thousand daggers while my thighs clench at the phrase alone.

  I swallowed with relief as Jagger’s disgusting hands dropped from me completely, spinning fully around to face the vampire. “You. I know you.”

  “Good to see you, old buddy. I was wondering when you’d pop your ugly little head up again. And what an interesting choice this time. Pretending to be a CEO. Real subtle.”

  “Who the fuck do you thi–”

  Quill interrupts Jagger by the sound of his lighter flickering as he lights up a cigarette and I hyperfocused on his mouth like my life depended on it.

  I hated smoking so much. The smell, especially. But there was something undeniably alluring about the way the vampire smoked. Slow and nguid drags. Methodical and sexy.

  “The blood I buy isn’t cheap. So make this easy for me. Let me take you to the council and you tell us where the real Terrence is. Then we call it quits for the night, hm?”

  Jagger immediately grabs me by the neck and pulls me in front of him like a meat shield. “Nope. Sorry. I’ve got those morons back there in the palm of my hand.”

  I pretended to look afraid as I stared at Jagger, mouthing the word please. He still thinks I’m a human, like my life is really in danger, and I need to keep the appearance up.

  Quill stared at my lips as they moved, but flickered his eyes back to the demon like nothing happened.

  “And what’s the pn this time? World domination?”

  “What am I, a James Bond vilin? No, you dumb fuck. I want money. How else am I supposed to start my own record company?”

  Quill and I both pause.

  “A record company?” I whisper hoarsely with interest, even against the threatening grip he has on my windpipe. “What kind of music?”

  Quill looks at me with bewilderment and I lift my eyebrows in response. What’s that look for? I’m curious!

  “New Country.”

  Quill and I both groaned aloud at the same time.

  “Let her go,” the vampire said between a drag, still looking infuriatingly at ease as if he were conversing casually with a friend. “You and I have history. She doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

  Jagger snorts and shrugs. Quill suddenly makes a surprised sound of shock as a sharp dagger goes straight to my throat and cuts across. I focus on Quill’s horror even before I process what had been done to me. Blood floods out of my throat and spills onto my gorgeous, rented designer dress.

  I don’t think dry-cleaners will be able to get this out.

  “Cecilia!” Quill grasps my arm as Jagger shoves me forward and darts into the shadows to escape.

  “Q-Quill–” I garbled out over the thick liquid illing my lungs, my hands trying in vain to stop the flow of blood as they press to my throat.

  The cut takes longer than I want to heal. It stings and blood continues to pour out of me like a fondue fountain in front of a vampire.

  But the man doesn’t even flinch, lick his lips or go in for a taste. He actually looks frightened for me. Me, a complete stranger in his eyes.

  And there’s a look of pain I didn’t want to see ever again marring his beautiful face.

  Only seconds ter, I feel the wound close and my instincts take over. Without thinking, I curl into him, pressing my face into his chest.

  Gods above! His warmth. His presence. His strength. It’s like a drug.

  I want to cry and ugh at the same time. And to my surprise, the vampire holds me as I cling to him.