"Good riddance." Severo turned and marched out.

Chapter 21.

"I don't need to kill? Whew."

Ivan drove a black BMW around the city. Bella sat on the pa.s.senger side. Though it was midnight, she hunted a human victim because the blood hunger had not relented.

"Vampires don't need the kill. A small sip often or a larger drink less often. You choose," he explained. "But to kill takes the nightmares of your victims into your soul. You will relive those nightmares in what we call the danse macabre. It's not pretty. And those vampires who kill indiscriminately usually go mad from the nightmares."

"There seems to be a lot of madness a.s.sociated with vampirism. So do we have a connection now? I took your blood, so do I know things about you?"

He cast her a smile. "Do you?"

"I don't think so."

"And you won't. I am considered your blood father, but our only connection is that my blood runs through your veins now. There is a theory that vampires exchange pieces of their soul when the transformation is made. I'm not so sure about that, but I wouldn't rule it out."

"Huh. And you'll show me how to enthrall a victim?"

"It's easy once you accept that your mind is a powerful tool."

"I see." She looked out the window when he was about to turn. "No, not that alley. It's too dark and creepy."

"We want dark and creepy, Belladonna." Ivan pulled the car into the alley.

"Yeah, but I don't think I can do dirty homeless guys or drunks."

"For tonight, you will take what we can find." He scanned the street as the car rolled smoothly over the tarmac. There weren't any flesh-and-blood humans out and about.

"What, besides being a vampire, do you do, Ivan?"

"I serve on the Council."

"Severo said that is some kind of council of vampires, witches and werewolves that oversees the paranormal nations."

"In a nutsh.e.l.l, yes. We have members from all species on the Council, but when there is an issue, it's usually only the representative nations that show."

"So are they discussing the divide between the werewolves and vampires now?"

"There have been suggestions of ways to bring the two nations to terms. Perhaps arranged marriages between principle players in each nation. Nothing's come of it yet. Of course, if Severo openly takes a vampire as a mate, that can only be a good thing."

"So we're to be an example?"

"Only if Severo chooses to allow it. He's very private."

"He is. Says his kind has to hide from humans. But you seem outgoing. What do you do beyond serving on the Council?"

"I'm a philanthropist."

"Are all immortals rich?"

"Depends on how you manage your money. If you're going to live forever, you'd better learn, because I can't imagine doing the homeless thing for long. What is your profession, Belladonna?"

She liked that he used her complete name. The man was too charming for a creature. Nix that, she thought. He was no creature.

He was a kind man who happened to be a vampire.

"I work from home designing Web sites. It's enough to get by. And I also dance flamenco." "A dancer? I figured you for some kind of athlete. You have a gorgeous body."

"Thanks." And she accepted the compliment for what it was. Not a flirtation. She did feel a connection to Ivan, but nothing s.e.xual, despite their intimacies.

"So tell me how you and Severo met. I bet he didn't find you dancing in a club. Don't think the guy does the scene all that much."

"A gang of vampires was chasing me, and Severo pulled me into hiding while they searched for me. He intended to do exactly as the vampires wanted once they found me. But he didn't."

"The werewolf is an interesting breed. But fiercely devoted to their mates."

"You say that, but how can they remain devoted to those not their breed?"

"Give him a chance, Bella. What do you say about stopping by a dance club before we find your next donor? There's an underground tapas bar close by. If you like flamenco, it'd be your kind of place."

"You want to dance instead of hunt?"

"Might take the edge off your nerves."

She clasped her shaky fingers together. "You noticed?"

He smiled. "Let's stop in and see what's up."

She was dressed for the club. A knee-length black velvet skirt with ruffles down the back that spilled to her ankles. And a leotard top, also in black. It was the only stuff Bella had taken to Ivan's, and it had felt right to go all black for her first hunt.

The club was underground, very small and dark like a cave. Ivan led her in, but Bella eagerly followed the music, which already had her snapping her fingers and rotating her wrists with the urge to dance.

"The atmosphere here reminds me of the Caveau de la Huchette," he said to her. "A little underground club in the Latin Quarter of Paris. Tourist trap, but they play some great jazz and swing. I'll get us some wine."

"I'll have water, please."

She didn't need the wine to loosen up. Just walking into the room relaxed her. Here were her kind of people. Besides, Bella wasn't so sure wine wouldn't make her sick. She'd not eaten for days-except for the blood. And that suited her fine.

Ivan returned and pressed a cool gla.s.s into her hand. "They're all vamps," he said. "Save the faerie over in the corner."

She spied the grizzled old man, his front teeth missing, enthusiastically doing palmas. A faerie? She would never look at people the same again.

It was a comfortable crowd and they all took turns on the small dance floor. Right now a couple danced sevillanas to a quick beat. Castanets trilled and the singer encouraged palmas.

She tilted back the water and licked the cool liquid from her lips. "Do they know I'm a vampire?" It felt surprisingly empowering to say the word.

Ivan's soft chuckle carried over the Spanish rhythm. "Vampires don't know one another unless they touch."

"Then how do you know they're all vamps?" "Because I've been here before, and the faces are familiar."

He touched her arm, clasping his fingers around the flesh. A thrilling s.h.i.+ver traveled her veins. Not a s.e.xual s.h.i.+ver, but one of...

knowing. "Feel that?"

"Yes. What is that?"

"We call it the s.h.i.+mmer."

"Appropriate. So unless I see fangs or touch another vampire, I have no way of knowing? Nor does the other vamp?"

"Exactly. Comes in handy once in a while."

"Good to know. So do you dance at all?"

"Not this stuff. I'm more a waltz kind of guy."

"Romantic. I'm going to have to meet your wife someday."

"I know she'd like meeting you."

The rhythm wasn't about to release Bella from its hold. She twisted her free hand before her and stomped her feet to the beat.

The guitarist strummed a buleria. Bella loved this fast, demanding rhythm.

"Hold this," she said to Ivan. He took her gla.s.s, and she headed out to the dance floor.

The air in the cavelike club expanded and caressed at the same time. Bella did a golpe across the stone floor in her high heels. Not the best shoes to perform flamenco in, but they would serve in a pinch. Raising her arms, she rotated her wrists and played the sensual music through her body.

For a while she danced by herself, beating out the rhythm with a tilt of her hip or an exact heel-toe. One man joined her. He was older, probably sixty, but fit and tanned. He approached, stiff and c.o.c.ky, a bullfighter striding up to challenge the bull. And she was his cape.

Bella loved the game of the dance. She circled him, fingers lifting her skirt only slightly, because it was already so short in front.

Elbows high, she spun her back to him and clicked out a few beats before they both spun to face one another.

He smiled and winked. She tried to keep a solemn face, but she was enjoying this too much and let out laughter as the two of them spun and repeated the move the opposite way.

Dancing with a fellow vampire. How surreal had life become?

A glimpse of Ivan found him doing palmas with half a dozen other men who stood by the walls. Vampires, all of them? Yes, the room hummed with a presence she felt a part of.

As an introduction to her new life, this night rated high on the scale. How wise of Ivan to bring her here, to a place where she would feel comfortable and safe.

She didn't understand Spanish but knew from her dance studies that the singer spoke of love, loss, struggle and renewal. It was how all the flamenco songs were. Tragic, sorrowful, but always expressing a lively connection to life.

Bella fancied she could feel the blood rus.h.i.+ng through the veins of each and every person in the room. It invigorated her. It made her feel alive.

She wanted more of it in her mouth. The pulse of hot blood danced a beat upon her tongue, at the back of her throat. In her body.

Suddenly she was tugged from the dance floor. A firm hand about her upper arm took her captive. She b.u.t.ted up against a hard body but did not feel the s.h.i.+mmer.

The male dancer stomped up to whoever held her, his arms held defiantly back so his chest puffed up in a challenging pose.

"She's mine," growled the one who held her.

"Severo?" He was supposed to be in a motel, waiting for her. "What are you doing?"

His breath hot near her ear, Severo whispered harshly, "You never dance for me, sweet."

He pulled her from the dance floor, past Ivan, who did not make a move to intervene, and up the stairs outside. Nondescript brick walls sandwiched them in darkness. Snowflakes fluttered softly.

"How did you know where to find me?" She tugged from his grip and walked away a few paces. The air was cold tonight. She could see her breath, yet she was flushed with warmth and the adrenaline soaring through her system. "That was rude!"

"I scented you."

"Tell me something I don't know. Am I forever destined to unfinished dances with men?"

He bowed his head and ran fingers through his hair. "Sorry. I...He was so close to you."

"Here's a reminder for you. We were dancing. You know that. You've seen those same moves before. Jeez, jealous much?"

"I am." He stepped in front of her, without touching. Dark eyes held hers, searching; then he looked down and stepped away. "I thought you'd call to come home this evening. When you did not, I wanted to find you. Quite a surprise to discover you dancing when you are supposed to be learning a life skill."

"Ivan thought it would relax me."

"And did it?"

"Severo, don't do this. Hey, Ivan. Sorry about that little scene."

The vampire stopped in the doorway and leaned a shoulder against the frame. He didn't say anything. Wine tainted his breath. But nothing could overwhelm the scent of Severo's rage.

Suffering humiliation was no way to end the evening.

"I'll be in the car," Bella said and stalked down the alleyway.

Both men listened, heads bowed, as the click of Bella's heels took her to the end of the alleyway. Severo breathed in heavily through his nose and shook his head.