Callum nodded and the longer lengths of his cropped black hair fell down over one emerald green eye. He frowned and raked it back, and then ran a hand around the nape of his neck, drawing Sera’s eyes to a set of dark marks on it. A bite mark. It looked deep and fresh too, no more than a night or two old. Did he have a lover?
He looked at her again and Sera’s gaze leapt to his. She swallowed the desire to confess that her sire was lying and she had no natural talent for the sort of thing that he was talking about. She smiled instead, trying to look every bit as seductive as her sire. Elizabeth had been Vampirerotique’s star female performer until she had decided to quit her job and return to her family instead. They had met shortly after that, and Elizabeth had turned her into a vampire. That was thirty years ago now. It had taken Sera most of those years to become accustomed to life as a vampire.
“Come by tomorrow night when we’re closed,” Callum said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Thank you,” Sera said and he smiled at her, nodded, and then disappeared into the crowd.
Their excited chatter filled the theatre, the people passing her by discussing the show and the finale. Other elite vampires were still in their seats, enjoying the lingering scent of blood and sharing an intimate moment of their own with their partners. Sometimes the kissing that happened post-performance in the stalls was more erotic than what occurred on stage. Sera dragged her gaze away from one couple near the front who were going at it with wild abandon. They looked as though they wouldn’t make it out of the theatre before they succumbed to their desire and took things a step further.
She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Elizabeth. “Does Callum have a lover?”
“I thought you had set your sights on Antoine?” Elizabeth laughed when she blushed and then her expression darkened. “A wife... and I’ve heard rumours that she’s a werewolf.”
A werewolf? Sera had expected the owners of an erotic theatre to be quite liberal and wild, but marrying a werewolf? She definitely hadn’t expected that one.
“You’re serious?” She never could tell with her sire. The woman enjoyed a joke more than was natural. Sera supposed that you needed to have an easygoing attitude when you chose to spend fifty years participating in an on-stage orgy with people you hardly knew.
Her stomach turned.
Thank the Devil she wouldn’t have to do such a thing to get her chance to speak with Antoine. Just an interview that she would ace thanks to her sire’s tuition and then she would be in his office, alone with him. Just the thought stirred heat in her veins. Since her sire had agreed to help her, she had spent every night trying to figure out how to win Antoine. It wasn’t going to be easy. She knew that much. She’d had lovers in her human life and even in her vampire one, but she had never pursued a man before, not as she intended to with Antoine.
Elizabeth had laughed when she had confessed that and had told her that she should probably start with easier prey and work her way up to someone like Antoine. That gave her the feeling that she was going to fail. What sort of woman would he desire? He ran an erotic theatre and watched the beautiful women performing on his stage without the barest hint of desire in his expression. If they couldn’t arouse him, what hope did she have?
Maybe he wasn’t interested in women who worked at his theatre. If that was the case, was she only shooting down what slim chance she had with him by interviewing for a position as a performer?
“I need a drink, and you look as though you could use one too.” Elizabeth grasped her wrist and tugged her towards the exit at the back of the theatre. “Come along, my pupil. You have a lot to learn before tomorrow night if you’re going to have a snowball’s chance in Hell of impressing that man.”
Sera trudged along behind her sire, weaving through the lingering crowd. Elizabeth’s warnings rang in her ears, one louder than the rest. She glanced up at the three storeys of elegant boxes that lined the theatre. The gold on the carvings decorating the curved cream low walls that edged the private boxes reflected the warm lights that illuminated the heavy red velvet curtain now closed across the stage. Matching curtains hung at the back of the boxes, some of them open now that the performance had ended. Many of the boxes were empty but beautifully dressed ladies and gentlemen still occupied the others.
She spotted Antoine amongst a group in one of the boxes on the first tier. He was smiling. She had never seen him smile. It looked forced to her. Hollow. Even among his own kind, he was still distant, his eyes devoid of emotion as he put on a grand performance of his own.