FLASH OF DARK by
Sara Brookes
Rebirth Series Book One
There's trouble brewing on the horizon. Ana - a member of the immortal Fae - unknowingly discovers a secret that could potentially alter the calm life she has carefully built around her. Toss in a few murders, a best friend who is a vampire and a human male fervently pursuing her and that toxic touch she possesses could be the least of her worries.
Would you give up your soul for just one touch?
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Chapter One
My head snapped to the side, vision blurring as my eyes watered from the shock. Pain radiated from the site of impact on my jaw. The bruiser in front of me had managed to sneak in a cheap shot. The bastard probably expected me to slide into psycho chick mode right about now and flail my arms around in the air hoping for purchase. Maybe rake my nails over his cheek in the typical female defense. But I had another ace up my sleeve.
I was no helpless damsel in distress.
His calloused knuckles clenched into a fist again and just as he lunged for me once more, I clamped my fingers around his hand, stopping all of his forward movement. His startled look said it all. He hadn’t expected me to fight back this way. Hadn’t expected this unassuming woman would actually to stand up to him.
He obviously wasn’t used to having women fighting back.
He was threatening the patrons of my club, the ones that put their trust in me when they entered through these doors, leaving their daily lives behind. I was simply upholding that unspoken promise. His face took on a blotchy red tone as he struggled to rip his hand away from mine. He wasn’t aware of it, but the more he fought, the easier he was making it for me to dislike him even more. To make me feel absolutely no remorse for what I was going to do.
I pulled on his hand, drew it down to waist level and held it there. Something inside of me unfurled then, flashing instantly hot as I held his hand still. I could feel it unwinding after having been tightly coiled and secured for as long as I could remember. Its warmth feeling old and familiar, reminding me of something I was unaware I was missing. I’d forgotten this part of me and it was hard to contain it now that it was making itself aware again. Safety for those around me was at the forefront of my mind and even though I was raging inside at the insipid man in front of me, I reined myself in. Losing total control wasn’t an option right now. Too many innocents, ones that could easily get hurt, were around. I wasn’t going to have that hanging over my head.
I unleashed just a single thin thread of my control and the overweight man dropped to his knees, the presence of fear in his eyes obvious as he stared up at me. Having unlocked that hidden side of me made me feel alive and very much in power. Of myself. Of the one lowered to bended knee before me. I saw in his eyes an emotion that I alone had caused.
Fear.
There was a surge of intoxicating power knowing that and I could easily surrender to it if I let myself.
His cobalt blue eyes were wide as he looked up at me, his black pupils growing so wide there was only a thin thread of the blue remaining at the rim. A quiet pain spread out from where my skin pressed against his and I pulled back, withdrawing the essence of myself, knowing that he had gotten the message loud and clear. My club, my rules and I wasn’t about to take any of his bullshit here.
“Take it somewhere else,” I spat at him and dropped his useless arm like a hot poker fresh out of the fire. I didn’t want to touch him anymore and from the way the rest of the crowd was giving him a wide berth as he rose, they didn’t either. After what he had just attempted to do, did you blame them?
I folded the power swelling inside of me, ignoring its demands to be released after having gotten a taste of the freedom I rarely ever granted. It was better for everyone around me.
Safer.
The bouncer who worked the door outside swept in to manhandle the bulky offender out the door and I gave the over-muscled employee I hired three years ago a dismissive look. He knew I wasn’t pleased to have to handle the delinquent myself and that he would have to face me later. It wasn’t a prospect that he was looking forward to, judging by the way he averted his gaze from mine as he pushed the once unruly patron out the door.
Good, he should be wary of me. I was pissed that I had been left to do the dirty work for which I had specifically hired massively muscled men to do, even though I was perfectly capable of handling it myself. That wasn’t the point. I employed them for a reason. The patrons of the club counted on it and the happier they were, the more they became repeat customers whose money I gladly took. Right now, this particular employee wasn’t any better to me than a six year old throwing a tantrum when his comic books had been taken away. When I was done with him tomorrow, he would wish for unlimited regeneration abilities like those comic book heroes. Especially, once I ripped him a new asshole.
The crowd that remained parted as I worked my way back to the bar, sliding my hand over my jaw where the goon had cold-cocked me. I knew that everyone’s gaze was following me and it wouldn’t do to let them know that I wasn’t feeling a lick of pain. In their eyes, I was just as human as they were. No need to let the secret out now.
Lucas’s gaze met mine as I arrived at the bar and I reached for the shot of tequila he’d set out for me. Good to know we were on the same wave length. I turned, facing the crowd and sent all the customers I could see in the dim light of the dance club a beaming smile. One that reassured them that this was the place to party and we, as the club management team, had their best interests in mind. “Síoraí, the bar is open and a free round of drinks for everyone!” I downed the shot and welcomed the familiar burn as the aged wood taste slid down my throat and ignited a warm smolder inside of me. It didn’t compare to the feeling from earlier but it made me smile just the same. A flush tinted my cheeks from the heat and I slammed the small glass down on the counter as a signal that the show was over.
A roar went up from the crowd and they surged forward, screaming their orders as the bartenders burst into a flurry of activity. My employees were going to hate me for that statement, but it would keep most of them busy for a while as they attended to the requests.
I made my way to the far end of the bar, away from the crush of patrons waiting for their free booze and settled onto the barstool I had been occupying before the commotion had erupted. My cigarette still burned red hot in the ashtray and I lifted it to my mouth for a grateful drag. The smoke curled through my lungs as I inhaled and closed my eyes, savoring the relaxation that washed over me after such a chaotic few moments.
Why were people so idiotic? Just when you thought that society had taken its last step forward on the path of stupidity, someone did something that broadened the walkway instead to throw them back decades in advancement. The jerk I had just thrown out was obviously drunk and full of himself. Alcohol did that to people--gave them balls that they didn’t normally possess. I glanced over at the woman who had been the object of the drunkard’s sloppy advances and saw her hand flutter nervously as she downed a shot of something neon green in a test tube. Tonight, alcohol would give her the courage to stay here instead of escaping to her apartment to hide from what happened.
By tomorrow, her life would be back to normal. The incident forgotten behind a layered haze of alcohol.
She would be alright but he would still be an asshole.
A bag of frozen peas was tossed onto the bar in front of me and ruined the thought I had been mulling about humanity eventually redeeming itself. I scowled at Lucas when my eyes found him standing on the other side of the bar, looking intently at me.
“Don’t you have customers to serve?” I asked, not bothering to smother my annoyance that he was talking to me instead.
He flashed me an easy smile and began using a towel to wipe out the beer glasses that he had just taken from the dishwasher. His electric blue eyes held a mischievous gleam that was obvious even in the dark of the club. “Rest of the crew has it handled and you looked like you needed a reminder.”
“Of?” I wasn’t sure what he meant.
He slid the glass he had been drying onto the overhead shelf and leaned over to me as the music started pounding through the speakers once more. The crowd had already moved on from the little show they had watched and wanted to continue dancing the night away. Eager to leave their daily fears, reservations and doubts about the things that go bump in the night at the door and have a few hours of fun. “A reminder that a delicate woman such as yourself will have a very bruised jaw right about now from the meaty fist of a certain unruly patron.” He nudged the bag of frozen vegetables in front of me and gave me a speculative look.
“Shit.” I pressed the icy bag against the side of my hurt jaw and winced at the temperature against my warm skin. I’d obviously forgotten what I had just been acutely aware of just moments ago when I walked through the crowd. Posing as a human can be a royal pain in the ass sometimes. “Thanks.”
He nodded as his eyes scanned over the sea of bobbing heads on the dance floor. The club was crowded tonight, somewhat unusual for a Wednesday night. Seems there was a slew of people wanting to start their weekend early and decided that my establishment was the place to be. The more of them, the more money for me. You certainly won’t find me complaining about those that lined my pockets.
The influx of customers had led to the disturbance that occurred earlier. Mix booze with the sexual heat that was usually generated in this type of dance club and someone was bound to get randy occasionally. One thing I didn’t stand for, and widely known for in Cincinnati, was tolerance for idiocy. You show the least little bit of indiscretion on my property and you’d find yourself the owner of one foot up your ass kicking you to the curb.
Síoraí was known as a safe haven where you were free to let your imagination roam as you left the stress of your everyday life behind. I wasn’t about to let that change for some jerk who didn’t want to keep his dick in his pants.
Lucas brushed at the few locks of black hair that fell over his brow as he leaned toward me. His lurid grin was especially potent tonight and I worried what he had up his sleeve. There was always something up Lucas’s sleeve. “You’ve got an admirer.”
I followed Lucas’s playful gaze and saw what he meant when the sea of dancers parted and a lone man sat at one of the tables on the other side of the club. I snorted when I spotted him and rolled my eyes as I turned back to Lucas. “He probably just wants another drink,” I said in reference to the empty glass I saw the man spinning around on the table top, leaving condensation rings on the stained wood tabletop.
It was Lucas’s turn to snort. “I know that look anywhere. Hell, I’ve given it to many a woman and his mind is not on his drink, I assure you.”
“Would that be the same look the blonde over there is currently giving you?” I waved a finger in the direction of where a slim, petite woman was waiting patiently for Lucas to refill her glass. She appeared anxious for him to return and swayed in time to the music in invitation.
As if Lucas Edwards needed one.
“That would be an entirely different look.” He tapped his knuckles in front of me before moving off. “You’ve got company heading toward you.”
I turned my head slightly to watch with seeming disinterest, letting my eyes scan over the crowd of patrons on the dance floor. With the closer look, I realized the man pushing his way through the undulating crowd was familiar. Men scowled at him while women gave him inviting smiles.
You couldn’t blame them really. Even outfitted in a sharply cut midnight gray three piece suit you could see he had chiseled his body with hours of hard workouts. You couldn’t help but appreciate the apparent effort that it obviously took to look the way he did. Dark blond hair cut in the latest version of what the elite considered fashionable and gray eyes that hid nothing of their intent. Of course, considering who he was, looks played an important part of the aura that seemingly hovered all around him. Despite the appreciative ogles he was receiving from various women on the dance floor, he smiled politely and continued moving through the crowd in seeming dismissal.
Sights set elsewhere, he wasn’t interested in them.
Working until closing of the club each night meant that I was usually planted in front of the television for a few hours before falling asleep. This, of course, meant that the only form of entertainment was the late night tabloid shows about people I couldn’t care less about. It was either digital snow or you spent the time learning a whole lot of information about people who spent their time thinking they were better than the rest of us.
The man currently working his way across my packed dance floor was Stark Grantham. A regular favorite of the paparazzi hounds and gossip shows.
Since I had a habit of following media reports, not to mention my stupid affinity for watching the shows as I fell asleep at night, I knew that he wasn’t a man who took a lot of bullshit. I knew he even considered himself to be one of the finest at scenting when he was being fed a line. Top notch, in fact. That was why he didn’t have time to be bothered with trivial matters in his life. Not that I couldn’t say that I blamed him.
I could be the same way myself.
I also knew he was an adrenaline junkie. Name it and the enigmatic Mr. Grantham had partaken in the adventure. He was known to spend winters in France barreling down the slopes, be it strapped to a snowboard or a pair of skis. His summers, throwing himself out of a plane eighteen thousand feet over Monterey Bay. A smoker and a drinker, he was the epitome of indulgence. The seven deadly sins had nothing on him or at least that’s what the tabloids wanted all of the normal citizens who lead exceedingly boring lives in comparison to believe.
I highly respected his devil may care attitude because I once spent my life searching for the latest and greatest things to suit my exotic tastes as well. Now, I did my best to blend into the crowd. Except when it came to my hair, there were no compromises in that area of my life. There was no way to ignore this blindingly red mass of hair, even in its dulled state. If they only knew the truth about how it really looked, but there was nothing wrong with keeping them guessing.
In one of the few interviews Stark had given to the news magazines, he had insisted that he wasn’t content to settle in one place long enough to see dust develop on the furnishings. He believed that those in search of the ultimate high didn't have the patience for the simple things in life. He had recently settled in Cincinnati to expand his business, no doubt with plans already in place, to move when he was ready.
See? Told you, it was easy to find out all you never wanted to know about someone just by watching trash television. Don’t say it never taught you anything. Despite knowing as much as I did on the surface about Stark, I never would have imagined that he’d be sitting in my club, let alone working his way through to crowd to the packed bar.
Heading for me.
In my eyes, I was no one. A dance club owner who did her best to cater to the needs of her clientele and tried to keep up with the latest and greatest techno beats. Of course, much like I knew about Stark Grantham on the outside, the dance club owner I described was merely what I wanted others to see of me.
What very few people, the count currently being contained to only one other than myself, knew was that I was a guardian for the Tuatha Dé Danann. I was here amongst the humans, following my assignment to ensure that he didn’t fuck up. That assignment being Quinn O'Brien, but he was far from a screw up. About as far removed from it as you can get in fact, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need someone watching over his shoulder. He had been our High King until about four hundred and fifty years ago. A deal had been struck and here I sat.
Bored out of my freaking mind.
Quinn wasn’t exactly the most exciting assignment I had ever partaken. Though, I shouldn’t complain too loudly because his seeming affinity for holing himself up at his ranch certainly afforded me a large amount of free time in order to pursue my interests here.
My interest right now was Stark since he was in my club. What brought him here to my meager neck of the woods? Despite my owning the club, I was a no one in the eyes of society. I was quite happy with that arrangement. The further under the radar I was, the better.
From what I could tell judging by the interested gleam in eyes the color of angry storm clouds, he was stalking his prey. I probably should have felt scandalized.
Notice I said should.
I smiled to myself and shifted my focus from the approaching man, signaling to Lucas. The young looking bartender shot a winning smile to the patron he was serving and nodded as an indication he would be over in a minute. As I watched, his every movement was focused on the girl on the other side of the counter. If I didn’t know his tastes better, I would say that Lucas had just picked his mark for the night. I was still of the opinion that she was a little too blonde for him and just as I suspected, the woman slunk off to join her friends at a nearby table, very much alone and with no prospect of a night of adventure--invitation rejected.
I tapped the ashes off my cigarette before taking a drag, wondering why I continued to bother smoking in the first place. I raised an eyebrow as Lucas came my way with a glass of tonic in his hand. He feigned a look of innocence as he set the drink in front of me and gestured for a hit off my cigarette. He apparently didn’t wonder why he smoked. Not that either of us had to worry about the side effects of smoking.
“She was a bit young for you,” I said as I handed him the cigarette. I had a strict rule that the bartenders couldn’t smoke on shift. Prior to that enforcement, most of them had a tendency to stretch that quick break in the alley into something longer. All this loud music, sexual tension and alcohol tended to make the staff’s minds wander and I’d found them getting all hot and bothered with each other out in the back alley during those supposed smoke breaks and on more than one occasion. Sex on the clock between employees was not a way to drum up business. I made a concession for him however as he just wanted one hit. Plus he was the closest thing to a best friend I had here and the one person that knew the full truth about me.
“I did nothing but make her enjoy the wait time for her drink.” His angelic face was the picture of innocence, but I knew better. There was a beast that regularly prowled and insisted on being unleashed occasionally. I knew all about that myself despite our marked differences.
“So, you didn’t say anything about how you’d like to entertain her after you got off shift? How you could really--what was it I heard you tell me once, ah yes--sink your teeth into her?” While that was normally an advantageous prospect from a man with Lucas’s good looks, most unsuspecting females didn’t realize that he meant it literally because he was just as immortal as I am. He was one of those things that went bump in the night, but unlike me, Lucas was a vampire.
“Well, there was that.” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows a little as he let his thoughts show clearly on his face. He had fully intended to taste that girl in more ways than one. The rest of the female species better be on the lookout for him tonight as he was apparently very full of himself. Not that that wasn't the norm for him, but tonight he seemed particularly interested in sating his hunger for the female of the species. I wondered if he was back on human blood because he certainly seemed to be a little more careless than he usually was.
I pushed the little niggling thought to the side because it wasn’t my business and felt the need to rib Lucas about the obvious. “She wasn’t your type.”
“Neither is he.” I followed Lucas’s glance and saw that Stark had finally made his way through the crowd and would be near us with a few quick strides. I took a drag off the cigarette Lucas had returned to me before moving off to fill drink orders and met Stark’s knowing gaze as he approached.
He flashed me a casual smile as he leaned on the bar and nodded his head in greeting. I nodded in return, swallowing the last of my tonic water, my throat gone dry with the taste of anticipation of actually talking to the one and only daredevil CEO of Stark Grantham Incorporated.
“You look like you could use something stiffer inside you.”
My amused mood blackened instantly as my expectations went up in flames. Now if that wasn’t just the cheesiest damn line I had ever heard in my life. And owning this club, I had heard them all, believe me. Maybe the seedy tabloid news programs had painted him as they wanted to, rather than showing he was nothing more than a jerk with a large bank account. Maybe they had wanted him to be something he wasn’t simply because he looked so good in that suit and had the balls to throw himself off the highest mountain just for the thrill. I rolled my eyes, disappointed in myself because I had been so off and muttered under my breath. “Go away, asshole.”
Stark obviously wasn’t easily swayed and signaled to Lucas. The bartender poured a few drinks before moving to take Stark’s order. “What can I get for you?”
I could hear the hint of amusement in Lucas’s voice and silently cursed him. He was enjoying himself way too much.
Stark held up two fingers and set his empty glass on the bar in front of him. “Same as what I was having.”
Lucas shot me a lurid grin and I resisted the urge to flip him off. Two shots of tequila were set down on the countertop between the two of us and Lucas quickly disappeared, interested in seeing if someone else needed help with their liquor order.
Traitor.
Stark palmed one of the shot glasses while he slid the other closer to me. “Wasn’t a line, if that’s what you’re thinking. Saw you sitting here sucking down water and you looked like you needed something with a bit more muscle to it. Especially after watching you level that overgrown child.”
I was fairly certain there was a hint of admiration in that last statement. My annoyance eased a little and I decided I’d been a little harsh. First impressions could be wrong after all. I smiled genially and nodded, tapping my cigarette against the glass ashtray. “Good, because that would have been one hell of a lousy greeting if it had been a line.” I pushed the tequila glass away, back toward where Stark had set his empty one. “I can’t, I’m working.”
“Which is exactly why you should.” He shoved the short glass back and gave me a look that was almost challenging. Obviously he had seen me take the shot of tequila earlier upon declaring the bar was open. That had been directly related to work and wasn’t something I would normally do. Given the circumstances, and never one to back down from an issued challenge, I downed the liquid, welcoming the hot burn that came when I swallowed. I turned the shot glass over as I placed it back on the bar. He cocked an eyebrow in approval and signaled for two more.
“Name’s Stark and I’d like to buy you another round,” he said, leaning both arms against the bar and gave me a view that I couldn’t ignore.
Yeah, the rear view was just as tantalizing as the front. That was something the tabloid magazine had gotten right.
Dammit.
I mentally shook off my momentary lapse into libido land and reminded myself that I had responsibilities. I could admire Stark from afar but that was about all I could offer for the moment. “Ana Sullivan. I’d like to, Stark, but as I said, I’m working. I appreciate the offer though.” I could see the disappointment on his face, the annoyance that darkened the color of his eyes a little. I wasn’t going to let it sway me though, however attractive I thought he was. “Maybe another time.”
“Tomorrow night works for me. You?” I started to open my mouth in rejection and he shook his head with a knowing smile. “Let me guess. Working, right?”
I nodded my head in confirmation as I picked at an errant black thread on my shirt. Must have picked it up during the scuffle, the jerk had been wearing head to toe black. As if it had made him cooler in some respect. Black was for burglars, emo Goth wannabes and for getting laid. Period. “In fact, I’m working every night.”
“Well, you certainly are one hard working woman, aren’t you?” Stark said appreciatively.
“You have no idea,” Lucas chimed in as he offered two more shots of tequila despite my protests. “Ana wouldn’t know the meaning of a night off if it bit her on that very firm ass.”
I shot a look of disdain in Lucas’s direction and he slunk off with a wide grin on his face, obviously amused with himself. Stark’s laughter sounded in my ear and he smothered it quietly when I gave him the same look. I pushed the shot of liquor away and ground out my cigarette in the ashtray.
Standing, I pushed the barstool out from under me with my foot and offered my hand to Stark. Despite the fact that I was enjoying the view of the man in front of me, I had customers to think about. Work was work after all and I still had bills to pay. “Running the club takes most of my time. Unfortunately, I don’t have much of a social life.” That statement was a complete and utter lie stretched to the limit bullshit. While the staff did most of the duties for me and I had other obligations here other than to watch over Quinn, there was an enormous amount of free time on my hands. It wouldn’t do to let him know that at this early stage of the game.
I was Fae, not a fool.
His hand slid easily into mine and you’d have to be an idiot to deny the spark of heat that ignited between us as our hands met. The gray of his eyes shifted and I saw a flash of dark that I appreciated. He made no effort to cover his disappointment, to mask the thoughts that had been racing through his mind in those few seconds. He was an open book in that moment and something inside me gave a hitch of anticipation and appreciation. I could easily see the two of us falling into bed.
He noticed the effect of our hands meeting too and one side of his mouth quirked up in amusement. “Are you sure about that?”
There was no doubt in my mind what his intentions were should I actually accept his offer. I can’t say that the thought didn’t intrigue me on some level. You had to be dead not to appreciate a man with his sort of looks, especially when the intentions were aimed directly at you. However, I was exceedingly careful about whose bed I frequented. I had never been the type to let my hormones rule my world, not to mention there were certain things that I needed to be careful of. Being Fae may have had its advantages but there were disadvantages as well especially in my case. Still, I was flattered. “Are you asking me out?”
“There would be dinner, of a sort, involved, so yes--a date if you will.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, taking in his expensive tailored suit, the fine Italian leather shoes he was wearing. There were some things that a woman, even a Fae, knew. “I’m fairly certain that I’m not your type, Mr. Grantham.”
A charming smile lit up the devilish expression on his face. “What makes you so sure of that?”
Damn, he was handsome.
Looks aside, my affinity for the cheap, sleazy tabloid shows had not only shown me the good about Stark, but the bad as well. I knew what was behind that deceptive smile. Judging from the revolving stream of women he used as arm candy, each and every one I had seen were the polar opposite of me. I couldn’t care less about what fashions were currently walking the runways and how quickly I could get my hands on them. I was happier frequenting the thrift store a few blocks away than throwing my money away on the latest overpriced fashions. Waste of time and resources in my opinion, especially at my age. We aren’t even going to discuss my true age. In human years, I’m hellaciously old. Thankfully I didn’t look a day over thirty-one. Twenty-nine on a good day when I actually bothered to fuss with make-up and a dress. Right now, my jeans and crisp white shirt suited me just fine. Dressing up had never been my forte. Even before I had found myself amongst humans.
Just at that moment, a bleached blonde that was all tits and ass, wearing a black clingy scrap of material that left little to the imagination folded herself around Stark. She trailed a finger over the gentle curve of his ear and flashed a smile at him that spoke of the night she had obviously planned--one that involved getting both of them horizontal as soon as possible.
Hell, if she looked at me like that, said those things I overheard, I’d do her. The look she did give me wasn’t as friendly as the one she had given Stark. In fact, it was one of those distasteful glares that said she wanted me as far away as possible. She obviously had her claws already firmly, deeply seated under Stark’s skin and saw me as an annoyance. Ms. Fake and Bake didn’t seem to care that she was obviously the flavor of the moment. She was going to take what she could get from what I could see.
I arched an eyebrow at Stark and smirked. His eyes met mine and though he wasn’t apologetic, the intent I had glimpsed earlier was gone. “I rest my case,” I said before I moved off, leaving the two of them to whatever they had planned for the night. Despite my dismissal, I felt his eyes watching me as I disappeared through the moving crowd. I felt those eyes follow me all the way up the stairs until I disappeared through my office. The door shut behind me with a soft click and the soundproofing of the room shut out the pounding beat that drove the crowd on the dance floor below. My back contacted with the wood and I smiled into the dark of my office.
That was not the last I would see of Stark Grantham, I knew that without question. He was curious enough to return, to see if he could learn more about the woman who was convinced she wasn’t his type.
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