The Vampire Always Bites Twice | Wattys 2022 Grand Prize Winner

34

Isla, From Just a Few Minutes Ago...

"Girl, your club is amazing, honestly, love what you've done with the place. Classy. Slutty. Just, the chef's kiss of vampire nightlife. To think that used to be a high school gym! It's all you. You made that place what it is, not the crypt keeper in the other room. You should be proud, really, you should! And don't worry so much about Denise. She still owns the building, which means she'll sweep that raid under the rug with the Magistrate." I forced a laugh. "I mean I, personally, don't exactly have sway with her but rumor has it one of the bitch's nephews/sons-in-law is Magistrate anyway."

Sat across from me, Sloane chuckled, passing me the half empty wine bottle. "She's a bitch alright."

She was warming up. Good for me? A barrier in her had clearly broken with her admission of being one of Dmitri's former conquests (gross). I sat on the floor of the sunroom, assuring her that I was only just tight enough with the wolves to know they wanted that raid about as much as she did, in hopes this convoluted conversation might lead me back to Lily. I didn't mention that my cheek still stung from her slap. She didn't ask about it either.

I took a swig straight from the bottle and offered it back to her with a gesture. Sloane declined, scrunching her nose in disgust. Instead, she leaned back against the wicker sofa and kicked off her skyscraper height stilettos. Yikes, those would murder my feet, but Sloane gave no complaints. She used one shoe to sweep broken crystal and golden thorns under a chair.

"When the heat cools, then put in a higher bid," I said. "Hey, not much higher. Just a smidge. The property will be too hot for the Pack and Denise'll be looking to ditch it. Personally, I love the idea of dedicating a couple floors to the newly turned transitional center you mentioned. That's such a great way to give back to the community. You're so generous." Sloane nodded along to my completely unfounded advice. Good. I took a deep breath. Here it goes. "Especially after what you must've endured after you first turned."

Sloane raised a brow. Her dark eyes glowed golden. I held back the shudder threatening to tap dance up my spine. She reached out, but instead of snagging my throat in her manicure and poking her teeth into my neck like juice box, she snatched the wine bottle out my hands after all.

"He said the only thing that could challenge the radiance of my beauty was the radiance and strength of my will. That's it. My panties were drenched. That's how he fucking wooed me," She took one sip and gagged, spitting the wine out and splattering it on the window. "You fucking believe that shit?"

"Charming," I said, allowing her to return the bottle to me. Think bits of Caleb were backwashed in there?

"Yeah, well, what fool doesn't want to live young and hot as fuck forever?"

"You're truly nailing that aspect of immortality."

"Fucking thank you."

"The hubby on the other hand."

Sloane clapped, amused. "At the time Dmitri was a fucking stud. Mmm. That hair? He had this long, luscious medieval mother fucker in shining armor thing going. For real, he was wearing a suit of fucking armor night we met."

"Which I can only assume was at a joust."

"Fuck, in 1993? Ha! Another club, actually," laughing, she made a show of stretching a leg into the air and pointing her toes. "I was a dancer."

"Dmitri has a type."

"All men do, it's their fucking kryptonite," she said, voice sharper than glass. "I believed his fucky shit at the time. Convinced. I was his goddess. His queen. His one true love rein-fucking-carnated. Said my soul sang to his. Steaming pile of batshit that was."