Page 4 of Craving Darkness

As I watched with dismay, a corner of his lips tipped up when his eyes landed on her. I blinked as Syn quickened her pace until she reached him. I had never seen Syn hurry for anyone before. When she stopped in front of him, she practically threw herself into his arms. I never thought I would see my boss throw herself at anyone, man or woman. Definitely not with the way she had them, all of them, practically crawling to her.

With an ache in my chest I didn't understand, I sighed. I felt a profound loss I couldn't comprehend. I didn't know the man, but somewhere deep inside me, it felt as though I did. It felt like he was mine. With a shake of my head, I pushed the door open and stepped into the main room, the atmosphere of sex and debauchery immediately surrounding me.

As I took the first step deeper into the room, heading toward the closest table, a fiery pain engulfed my wrist, making me want to scream in agony. Before I could open my mouth to let it out, the pain ended as abruptly as it began. I stood there, shaken to my core, and breathed heavily as my heartbeat pounded in my chest at the unexpectedness of the strange event.

I looked around to see if anyone else had noticed and froze when I saw Syn grab the man's hand with a frown and begin to pull him straight to the door where I still stood. I quickly backed away, blinking rapidly at the sight. She was leading him to her office; I just knew it. They both seemed to be in a hurry as she led him past me. My gaze met the tall stranger's for the briefest of seconds, and my knees nearly buckled at the intensity. All too soon, Syn had him through the swinging door, and the two of them were gone.

Abandoning my plan to hit up a few last tables, I turned toward the bar, ready to call it a night. I knew I wouldn't be able to function properly, not with the deep green eyes of the man scorched into my mind. They were eyes I wouldn't forget, not even when I was ninety and on my deathbed. I will always remember the man, and I will always remember the utter feeling of loss that filled every atom of my being as he walked away with my boss.

I dropped my tray down on the bartop with a heavy thud that blended in with the thumping bass of the song playing on the speakers all around us.

"You okay, Kallie?" The bartender, Brad, stopped in front of me with a frown. "You look, I don't know. Did someone die?"

I let out a dry laugh and shook my head. "Only my hopes and dreams."

Brad leaned forward and tugged a strand of my hair. "If I need to kick someone's ass, let me know so I can get Tiny to do it."

That had my lips tipping up into a genuine smile. "I appreciate your sacrifice for my honor."

"Any time, doll. Hey!" As he made to move back down the bar to help a waiting patron waving a twenty-dollar bill in the air, he stopped abruptly. "You finally got some ink to decorate your virgin skin?"

"What?" I asked in confusion. I had nothing against tattoos, but I had yet to find the perfect something to forever mark my skin. I glanced down at where his eyes seemed to be zeroed in. When I caught sight of the blood-red mark on my inner right wrist, I gasped and held it up to get a better look. It was only about two inches long and two inches wide, but it was intricately designed. It looked more like a brand than a tattoo, to be honest. I lightly ran my fingertips over it to feel how it was slightly raised. It looked like a symbol of some kind, and instinct told me that whatever the symbol was, it was very ancient.

My mind pinwheeled as I thought back to the searing pain I had felt just moments ago. "What the fuck?" I mumbled as I continued to stare down at the mark.

"It's badass, Kallie. I like it," I heard Brad say before he moved back down the bar to get whatever drink the woman with the twenty wanted.

As I continued to stand there in shock, taking in a mark that shouldn't be there and wasn't rubbing off, a conversation from the closest table filtered in over the loud music. My hearing had always seemed to be unusually good and now proved no different. It was a conversation strange enough to pull my attention from the impossible.

"The newest King ain't shit."

From my lowered eyelashes, I glanced at the three men standing around a tall table, ignoring the bar stools. They looked like the typical biker club members we got on a regular basis. Their vests were typical black leather, and their appearances had that usual messy vibe going on as if they'd rather be out causing mayhem than bother with hygiene.

One of the other guys scoffed. "You wouldn't be saying that if the old King was still here."

The first guy grunted. "Fuck off. None of us would even be here if the old King was still here."

The third one, the one that seemed meaner than the other two, even if he were the most attractive of the three, smiled menacingly. "The old King has a dhampir kid. Get the dhampir and control the Council member. In the meantime, take out the current King."

"Even if you killed him, you wouldn't be able to take his place. The Master would take your head for trying."

Their conversation was confusing. I had no idea what they meant by Kings or Council members, but there was something about that word, dhampir, that had my brain working overtime. I knew I had heard it before, but it wasn't clicking for me yet. But what was most concerning was the direction of the whole conversation. They were talking openly about killing people. It had a shiver of trepidation running down my spine.

Chapter 3

Kallista

Abottle slamming down on the tabletop had me jolting in shock. My head swung to face the trio fully without thought, only to see the blond leader sneering at me.

“You working here or not, slut?” He picked his bottle up from where he’d slammed it down a second ago and waved it in the air mockingly. “My boys and me want a refill.”

I winced at the grammar and looked around. No other servers were near, and I had a feeling that this guy was a full-on asshole that would throw a fit if he weren’t served right away. As much as I wanted to leave him hanging, I wanted to cause a scene even less. My job was at the mercy of the boss. She wouldn’t be inclined to keep me on, letting me work for tips, if she got a complaint about me not wanting to help someone.

With hesitant steps, I walked toward the table of rough-looking bikers. When a strobe light passed over the features of the blond, I jolted. I could have sworn his eyes glowed an eerie yellow for a second before going back to the blue. I mentally shook my head, figuring it was either an effect of the light or my imagination was running away with me.

“Three more beers?” I asked quietly, not bothering to put on a smile or even attempt to flirt. I wasn’t going to get a tip from these guys. There was no doubt in my mind they were nothing but trouble and didn’t give a shit about tipping the help.

As I reached for the empty bottles, the blond nudged his roughly, making it wobble, and then tip over. Before I could reach out and stop it, the bottle rolled right off the edge of the small round table and crashed to the floor.