Chasing Midnight (Dark of Night Book 2) Read Free Page A

and shook it, puckering his lips. “Maybe if you leave the lipstick out?”
    I snatched the purse back. What did he think I was—an animal?
    “Okay, what about that thigh holster I got you?”
    I snorted. “Sure, if I want to walk like I’m on horseback.”
    He held up his hands in surrender and stepped backward. “Fine, just leave it then. Don’t blame me when you want to shoot someone and can’t.”
    “Lucky for me, the only person I want to shoot is making popcorn in my kitchen.”
    He clutched his chest. “Ohh. I’m wounded. And Izz, have fun tonight.”
    I sighed. “It’s not about fun. It’s about a job. You know, those pesky things we need to do every once in a while to pay the bills around here?”
    He lifted one eyebrow. “Whatever you say.”
    I looked back down into the purse and when I looked up again, he was gone. Biting my bottom lip, I shook the bag futilely and zipped it up. Honestly, I was about three heartbeats from calling the whole thing off despite my growling stomach when the car horn blared out front. I opened the door to see the sleek, black limo Xavier had sent for me. Complete with a driver holding open the door, it was like prom all over again. I shuddered mentally.
    Hey, it wasn’t a party until there was a girl crying her mascara off in the bathroom. Hopefully, this time, it wouldn’t be me.

 

    The club wasn’t nearly as crowded inside as I expected, judging by the obnoxiously long line at the door. One bouncer was holding people behind a velvet rope just like what you might find at a trendy bar. From the flaming neon sign, I half expected there to be topless girls suspended from wire cages inside, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. The place was stunning. Literally. The main room was large and two stories high, the top floor being a balcony that wrapped around the edge of the room so every table had a great view of the stage below. Everything from the tablecloth to the dangling light fixtures were red and gold, as if giving the illusion that the entire place had erupted into flames. A grand staircase led diners up to the top level where dinner was being served. The ground floor was much more like a club than a restaurant. Cushy-looking chairs and lounge sofas dotted the room, all facing the main stage, which was currently closed off with a red velvet curtain. There were a few tall tables filled with people drinking and talking, but it looked like the food was strictly upstairs. That explained the long wait for dinner reservations. There couldn’t have been more than ten tables up there. A young woman dressed all in white was hosting from a glass podium near the stairs.
    “Reservation?” she asked, her southern drawl thicker than it probably needed to be.
    “She’s here to see Mr. Ambrose.” The limo driver had walked me in and escorted me to the hostess stand.
    Looking flustered, the girl glanced upward over her shoulder to an empty table. “Of course. Please follow me.”
    She sauntered up the stairs in front of me, not bothering to hold onto the thick, brass railing. She probably didn’t need to. She probably walked these stairs a million times a night in her impressively tall heels and tight dress. Then something else occurred to me, something that made me pause a step behind her and really watch her as she moved.
    In fairness, I should have expected it. I mean, it was a Conclave-owned club. I supposed it was just the fact that it hadn’t been immediately obvious that bothered me. Some older vampires were good at pretending to be human. But there was always a grace, a stillness, even to the new ones that gave them away. This girl, all blonde hair and blue eyes, looked about twenty-three, but she was definitely a vamp. The question was, was she so new that she still had her human tells, or was she so old that she’d learned to fake them?
    She stepped to the side, and I saw Xavier. He stood as I approached and moved to pull out my chair. “Good evening, Isabel.