the seconds or masters. In a public fucking club, this bastard wanted her so bad he was giving her fang? Pullease.
"Carlos made you? Before his unfortunate - "
"We were close," she said, the venom in her voice cutting off his statement. "He and I went to Hell and back together. Shit happens. Let's leave it at that." She didn't even want to think about it.
The dark stranger rubbed his palm over his chin and glanced at his four henchmen in the crowd. "Damn... I thought for sure I was sensing Neteru. And, if so, then Carlos is the only one who could have turned her."
Damali followed his gaze, monitoring the reactions of the vamps with him. Good, she was talking to their leader, which meant his backup was a generation below him. Four brothers, each a serious specimen of Jamaican male in a delicious range of hues from cinnamon to ebony, serving silk and leather, muscle shirts and kid glove - supple pants, skin and sculpted fineness, brilliant smiles set in fine faces, all nodded at her.
"We are what we are," she finally said, her tone now becoming amused. "Can't take everything from a girl in one night."
The leader nodded, stepped closer, and ran a thumb over her jugular. "Sorry to hear 'bout what happened to your man... but, as they say, it's all good. You're still here, got to live your life now. Right?"
"Yeah," she repeated, her tone once again icy. "It's all good." Damali set down her beer hard on the bar. "Can't sleep during the day anymore, though. You feel me?"
"I feel you..." he murmured, low and sexy. "Wanna get out of here?"
"Yeah," she said. "And bring your friends. Miss Rivera already." She let the truth dangle as bait, knowing they'd sense authenticity in what she'd said. But the truth cut her to the bone.
He hesitated, stared at her, confused, and then chuckled. "That's five of us, you know."
Damali cocked her head to the side and smiled. "And?"
"Damn, sis... aw'ight. That's cool."
"I was made by a master. What did you expect?"
The vampire before her shook his head. "I'd heard about master-made second-level females, but I confess I didn't know it was like that."
"Follow me. Watch and learn... since this is your first time with a sister like me." She didn't even wait for his response as she strode through the crowd toward the off-limits section at the back of the club, elbowing people out of her way.
She could feel the five eager vamps behind her, knew they were intrigued and off-guard. Half of her questioned her own judgment; the other half of her just wanted to get it on. What was there to live for, really? If she went down, she'd go out swinging. If she lived, so be it. Either way, all these potential victims in the house got another night of reprieve.
As she passed club-goers, she glanced at the silver crosses some of them wore, and other religious objects embedded in their jewelry, disheartened by the fact that none of it would ward off an attack if the wearer of the object didn't believe. Most didn't.
The narrow hallway she'd entered that led to the back alley made her claustrophobic. It was too reminiscent of the corridors of Hell she and Carlos had battled in together. Everything reminded her of him, especially the thick, palpable desire emanating from the vampires that followed her in the dark.
She threw her weight against the heavy, metal door and was greeted by fresh air. The evening was unseasonably cool, and she welcomed the rush of breeze against her face. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back for a moment, preparing for the inevitable. A pair of chilly hands rested on her shoulders. Icy breath filled her ear.
"You have any preference about which one of us goes first?" a deep male voice intoned.
"No. Do you?" she murmured, shrugging out of his hold and bending over so she could reach the pant leg zipper, concealing her stashed dagger.
"Damn," one of the henchmen whispered. "I don't care, man. Just as long as I'm in the lineup."
"Good," she said, chuckling as she glanced up at the four weaker vamps hanging back in the shadows. A hard erection poked at her behind in a sultry grind. Hands were on her hips now, caressing them, stroking her backside, and making the beaded triangle sarong that was tied against them shake. "I'm not choosy about which one of you goes first, either."