A Legacy of the Damned: Daughter of Astaroth

Chapter 39 - Club Fight

The music is thumping, deafening. I'm jumping along with the other patrons, my hands are in the air, and Alistair is gripping my hips. Once in a while, I feel his lips and his nose buried in my neck. It doesn't bother me, nor does it turn me on. Well, maybe it's a tad annoying.

I close my eyes and feed off the energy of mostly humans in the room. I can sense the others- non-humans but I ignore them. I'm trying to forget everything just for a little while. Forget Astaroth and his demands. Forget Sacha and this emptiness in me when he's not around. Forget the Grimoires. Forget tomorrow.

Forgetting Sacha is a tall order but I manage to lose myself in the music and the atmosphere for a few minutes.

Suddenly, the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stand on ends and I open my eyes. The feeling of being watched is strong, my skin is burning from the heat of it. My eyes clash with those of one of the dancers in the cage directly in front of me. Her shapely naked body is painted iridescent scales of red, white, and gold. I think she's supposed to be a fire-breathing dragon of some sort. Her eyes and smile are inviting and her body moves provocatively as though she's putting on a show just for me.

"I think you have an admirer, darling," says Alistair in my ear, his hands are stroking the skin of my barely covered stomach. "I think she's inviting you to dance up there with her."

I see the invitation but I look away, dismissing her. That's not it. It's not her interest or attention that sets my pulse racing and brings my sense up on high alert.

"He's here," I yell in Alistair's ear. The very depth of my being knows he's here.

"Who?"

My gaze sweeps upward and stops at a tall figure watching me from the top of the stairs on the mezzanine. My heart pounds faster in my chest, my stomach flips, and my breath grows ragged and heavy. Sacha.

I feel Alistair brushes a kiss on my jaw as I keep my eyes on Sacha who's watching us. A bit of guilt is niggling at the edge of my conscience but I don't understand why. Alistair drops another kiss on my neck and even with the fifty feet or so separating us, I can feel the surge of his fury.

"What are you talking about?" asks Alistair again in my ear. But then, "Oh, f*ck!" I guess he figures out what I was talking about now.

Alistair's hands on my hips propel me to move but I only manage to take a step before a hulking figure of a Nephilim guard is blocking our way. "Follow me," the man says in a deep voice that rises above the sound of the deafening music. He turns around and someone else, another massive guard behind us, puts his large hand on Alistair's shoulder.

I hear Alistair behind me letting loose a few more expletives as we follow the Nephilim guard toward the stairs.

Nerve and excitement cause my stomach to clench and I almost let out a giggle. Only Sacha can get me into this state of euphoria no matter what the circumstances are. All my senses come to life. I'm not bored for the first time tonight. This feeling, fueled by the adrenaline rush that I crave, akin to the feeling that I get from jumping off bridges or rushing down the snowy mountain at a breakneck speed. I must be crazy.

Alistair is still close behind me but his hands aren't on my hips anymore. I can feel his reluctance to move toward where we're being lead to by the two Nephilim guards.

"If you're scared of Sacha, why did you bring me here tonight?" I ask him.

"I'm not scared of him," he quickly denies, straightening the collar of his Remy Leather suede jacket, looking offended. "He doesn't care," he mutters, after a while, sounding like a misbehaved or a guilty little boy. "Once I have you, he'll leave you alone and move on to another woman."