Tegan's Blood (The Ultimate Power Series #1) Read online

“Hey, are those porcelain?” I ask. “Because my friend Amanda loves to play at the vampire thing too, she has a pair but they aren’t half as realistic as yours.”

  He closes his mouth for a moment and then says, “Yes, they are – porcelain.”

  “Hmm, where’d you get them?” I try to make small talk so that maybe after a minute I’ll get the chance to slip away.

  “The internet,” he replies.

  “Oh yeah, I should have guessed.”

  “I’m Lucas,” he says, offering his hand, it seems he’s dropped the intense vibe all of a sudden. “And you are?”

  “Tegan, but I’m still not telling you where I live.”

  “Pretty name,” he smiles. “Pretty everything,” his eyes wander over me, from my lips to my neck and then down.

  The red head lets out a heavy sigh.

  “Don’t mind Delilah,” says Lucas. “She’s just moody. Or maybe she wants you for herself.”

  “I have to get back to my friends, they’ll be wondering where I am.” I interject.

  “Don’t you want to stay and get to know each other?” he leers at me, and as he’s doing it he’s also manoeuvring me into the office. Not good. I try to resist but he puts his arm around my waist, and his grip is like iron. A second later all four of us are inside the office with the door firmly closed. The blond man sits down at the head of the desk while Delilah and Lucas take a seat in front of him. There are two other chairs but I don’t sit down.

  “You can sit on my lap if you’d like?” says Lucas.

  This is a very weird situation. I feel trapped. It really isn’t fair. I look down at my feet and let my hair hang over my face for cover because I can’t hold back the tears that are falling from my eyes. I shouldn’t be crying but I’m still so raw inside.

  “Are you crying?” asks Delilah, stunned. The other two just seem to be staring at me.

  “Please can I go, I know it’s mad that I’m crying but this is – this is the first time I’ve been outside since something very, very bad happened to me and…”

  “Hush.”

  I look up and the blond man has suddenly appeared in front of me. He tilts his head to the side. Then he traces a finger down my cheek, wiping away a tear, and of all things sticks it in his mouth.

  “I like that,” he says, and I don’t know if he means the fact that I’m crying or the taste of my tears.

  “Do you – do you work here?” I whisper.

  “I own this club.”

  “Oh,” I pause in disbelief. “Really?” my forehead scrunches in confusion. He’s far too young to own this place. Another pause. “Well, if that’s the case then could you please ask your friend over there to back off and let me leave?”

  “I don’t know if I want you to leave.”

  “What?” I ask, getting scared now. This has to be a dream. A fucked-up fantasy at best.

  He laughs, but it isn’t malicious. “I’ll let you go, but first, would you let me try something?”

  “Um, yes, well it depends on what it is.” I allow.

  “All I need you to do is stare into my eyes and concentrate on what I say to you.”

  Weirder and weirder, but if it gets me out of this odd situation then I suppose I should do it. “Okay.”

  He places a hand on either one of my shoulders and then gazes straight into my eyes. His are stone grey and mesmerising like Delilah’s. He continues to gaze at me for at least thirty seconds and then quite outrageously he demands, “Take off your dress.”

  I can’t answer, and for a moment almost completely against my will I feel like I’m actually going to do it. But then I snap myself out of it.

  “No chance.” I tell him. “What is with you people?”

  “Quite amazing,” he says looking gob smacked. “How do you do that?”

  “Well excuse me, but I don’t strip off at the command of strangers. Can I go now?”

  “That was the deal.”

  “You’re not letting her go until you find out where she lives, Ethan,” says Lucas, still sitting in his chair.

  “Don’t presume to tell me what to do.”

  “He’s right,” says Delilah. “She could be a useful study, I have never come across one so unresponsive before, and judging from the fear I can smell radiating from her she’s not going to be coming back here any time soon.”

  The blond seems to be mulling it over, then he nods and turns back to me. “May I have your address?”

  “No.”

  “Pretty please,” and he strokes his hand down my arm, causing my heart to race.

  “I don’t know you, any of you, and I’m not reckless enough to go handing out my address to strangers.”

  “Then let me drive you home.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Jesus, don’t you ever give up?”

  “It’s settled then, I’ll drive you home.”

  “I’ve already got a ride home thanks.”

  “Well now you’ve got a better one, besides, you’re not leaving until you agree.”

  “I’ll scream.”

  “No you won’t, don’t deny it Tegan, you want me to drive you home.”

  I make a run for the door, but he’s too quick and a second later he’s holding me to his chest.

  “Now, now, there’s nothing to be frightened of.”

  His fingers are trailing up and down my back, and when they graze my arm my entire body trembles. I can’t help it, despite how crazy it is, I am incredibly attracted to this man. As if sensing my thoughts he lets out a low growl.

  Delilah stands up then and says, “Come Lucas, leave them.”

  Grudgingly, Lucas gets up too and follows Delilah out the door. When it shuts closed, the blond lets go of me.

  “Have you calmed down?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to cooperate?”

  “Maybe.”

  He leans into me, his golden locks flop down over his face, exuding sex. “Are you going to let me escort you home?”

  “All right then.” It may seem as though I’m giving in simply because he’s a good looking man. I may be shallow, but I’m not that shallow. I need to get back to my apartment. Back to my safety net, my box. It was foolish of me to think I could do this. Foolish to think I could ever leave.

  “Don’t act like you don’t want me to, I can smell your attraction.”

  “What is it with the smelling emotions thing? Because the last time I checked that wasn’t possible.” I may be attracted, but that’s only a blip on the radar compared to my panic. I won’t be able to breathe if I don’t get home soon.

  “Just a figure of speech,” he smirks. “Come, we’ll go tell your friends I’m taking you home.”

  “You’re giving me a lift, that’s all.” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Of course. I’m Ethan by the way,” he says valiantly.

  “Whatever.”

  “Just thought you’d like to know, since you’ll be moaning it later on.”

  “The only way I’ll be saying your name will be to report it to the police if you try anything psycho.”

  “No, that’s not how it will happen.” He tells me, very matter of fact and then goes over to his desk, grabs a light grey zip-up hoodie, puts it on and ushers me out of his office.

  Nicky is more than relieved when I return to our booth with Ethan beside me.

  “Where the hell were you? I was worried.” She says, pulling me into a hug.

  “Nowhere, listen, I’m going home now.”

  “Are you getting a cab?”

  “I’m going to drive her,” says Ethan, and suddenly Nicky is aware of the man standing beside me. Anybody else would have clocked him straight away, but Nicky doesn’t notice men all that much, even the madly attractive ones.

  “Oh,” she says smirking. “Okay, well, have fun.”

  “We will,” says Ethan, and before I can argue he’s linked his arm through mine and we’re halfway
out of the club.

  Ethan’s car is typical of a night club owner, a fancy silvery black Cadillac with heavily tinted windows.

  “Well at least your car windows are reassuring,” I say sarcastically.

  He turns to me as I’m fastening my seat belt in the passenger seat, suddenly completely serious, and says, “No harm will come to you when you’re with me.”

  “Okay,” I reply, widening my eyes at him.

  “So, where to?” he asks.

  “Singe Street, Riverdale Apartments.”

  “That’s not a very good area,” he says, his voice concerned.

  “Well I’m a student, it’s all I can afford.”

  “What do you study?”

  “Art History.” I answer.

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “Yes, I mean I did, but I haven’t been to my lectures for the past while.”

  “Why not?”

  “Long story.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “No chance.”

  We’re both silent for a few minutes as he drives in the direction of my street.

  “You said that this is the first time you’ve been outside in some time, why is that?”

  “As I said, it’s a long story.”

  “I’d like it if you told me.”

  “Seriously, what is your deal?” I say in frustration and drop my head into my hands. “I don’t get any of this, why is it so important that you find out where I live? I’ve been through a difficult time lately so I just want to be left alone. I didn’t even want to go out tonight, but my friend convinced me it would be good for me. And now I’ve got three strangely intense people just dying to find out where I live, and it’s all just too much right now, so please, just drive me home and stop asking questions.”

  “You finished?” he asks, grinning.

  “Are you making fun of me?”

  “You’re cute when you’re all frustrated. I could help you with that you know.”

  I sigh heavily, and don’t bother answering back. He seems to be enjoying my annoyance far too much.

  When he pulls up outside my apartment block I begin unfastening my seat belt but he grabs my arm. “Allow me,” he purrs.

  “Sure,” I say, just wanting to get home and go to bed.

  “Are you going to invite me in?”

  I have to admit, the idea is a promising one. Not promising enough though. I don’t think any man will ever be able to wash away the marks Matthew left behind. “Are you trying to make a fool of me?”

  “Why do you ask that?”

  “Because I can’t understand why a hot shot night club owner would want to spend time with a girl who looks like she hasn’t slept in a year, is wearing her best friend’s clothes that don’t even fit her properly and lives in a shitty area, when there are so many beautiful women in the VIP section of your club who would probably sell their granny for a night with you.”

  “I find you interesting,” he looks down at me. “And your clothes fit perfect as far as I can see.”

  “Did I say how weird I think you are?”

  “Not in so many words.”

  “Ah God, you can come in if you want, but I’ll warn you it’s tiny and cramped and messy in my place, so you won’t be very comfortable.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  Inside my apartment Ethan looks around as if inspecting every minute detail. I notice that Nicky must have done some cleaning earlier when I was in bed because it’s a lot tidier than it had been.

  “I’m going to make tea, do you want some?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  When I come back with two cups I put them on the coffee table and sit in beside Ethan. I’ve only got a small two seat sofa, so suffice it to say things are fairly snug.

  “Do you mind my saying that you look very young to own your own night club?” I tell him after taking a sip of tea.

  “I’m not as young as I look.”

  “Oh really, what are you twenty seven, twenty eight maybe?”

  “Not exactly, how old are you Tegan?”

  “Twenty one,” I answer before continuing, “Do you enjoy the night club business? I’ve always thought all night club owners were men in suits in their forties and fifties, mostly like mob bosses, that kind of thing. You look like you should be in a grunge band.”

  “You shouldn’t stereotype darling, besides, I’m one of a kind.”

  “I’m sure you are.”

  “Would you like me to show you how unique I am?”

  “Is that a come on?”

  “What do you think?”

  I laugh, and then he does too. He takes a gulp of tea and puts the mug back down on the table. He turns to me and says, “You’re cute, you know that?”

  “Yeah, that’s me all right, cute as a button.”

  “And vulnerable.”

  “Sure.”

  “And in a way, very sexy.”

  “You must get off on vulnerability then.”

  “Actually I do.” He leans into me and takes in a deep breath. “You want me, don’t you?”

  “What I want is for you to get off me,” I lift my hands and push him back.

  “No you don’t.”

  I think I might have a heart attack when he moves his face to my neck and then presses his lips to my throat. I don’t understand why, but the gesture makes my heart hammer in my chest in some sort of fight or flight response. Strange. He places a hand on my bare leg and runs his palm over my inner thigh.

  “Stop,” I breathe hoarsely. My nerves at war with my need to be touched, to be wanted.

  “You sure about that?” he asks as he brushes the tips of his fingers over the cotton of my underwear.

  “Yes.”

  “All right then.” He answers primly, as he fixes my dress back down. “But don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that, Tegan, because I know that you did.”

  “Wow, modest aren’t we.” I roll my eyes at his ego.

  “I enjoyed it too, honey,” he says, running his fingers through his floppy mass of blond hair.

  My cheeks instantly redden.

  “So shy,” he whispers, his lips touching my ear.

  I get up off the couch and straighten myself. “I think you should go now.”

  “If that’s what you want,” he says, his eyebrow quirked up.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Will you drop by the club some time? I’d like it if you did.”

  “Oh, yeah maybe.” I answer, anything to get him to leave.

  “Please do, I’ll see myself out.”

  And with that he’s gone as quick as a flash. What a beautiful bastard.

  Chapter Two

  Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You

  There’s nothing worse than not being able to sleep until three in the morning and then waking up at seven-thirty even though you have nowhere you need to be. Even worse is the fact that I can’t get back to sleep. My apartment is freezing and a layer of frost covers the one tiny window in my bedroom. I really hate January.

  I pull the duvet around me and get up, then I dash for the switch in the hallway to turn on the heating. I go into my living room and sit on the couch, waiting for the radiators to kick in. I’m not letting go of the duvet until the place heats up. I tip my bare feet onto the floor but then quickly pull them back up and tuck them under my legs, the cheap brown lino is absolutely freezing cold.

  I switch on the television and watch the early morning news headlines, absorbing nothing. I hate the fact that I don’t dream anymore, all I get is random words and sentences that make no sense running through my head. Sometimes all I can see is an image of Matthew unconscious in a bath of red tinted water. I don’t know which is worse, because the words give me a headache and the image is horrific.

  When I feel the place has warmed up I go to the fridge to see what there is for breakfast and the pathetic contents say it all, I really need to go shopping. Nicky has been doing my groceries for
me every week, but I think it’s about time I took some of the burden off her. She’s helped me enough and I’ve been thinking that perhaps now it’s time I began helping myself.

  I drink a glass of milk, and then on a whim I decide to wash my floors. I get a bucket out from under the sink and go through the motions of cleaning. In my purse I have exactly fifty-six pounds and forty-five pence. There are five days left until the next instalment of money gets transferred into my bank account from my dad’s. I really need to tell him the truth that I’ve dropped out of college. There’s no doubt he’ll be angry and that’s why I immediately decide to put it off for just one more week.

  I decide to spend the money I have on food. I’ve been eating barely anything these days and spending the majority of my money on booze to drown my sorrows. No more spending my days in a drunken stupor just so that I don’t have to feel anything. I go into the bathroom and strip off to take a shower before I leave to go food shopping. I stare at the white, clean, empty bath for a moment and wonder if I’ll ever get into it again. Probably not, but thankfully I have a separate shower, otherwise I’d be going around like an unwashed hobo. Not that I’ve been very meticulous about my personal hygiene recently anyway.

  I don’t have a lot of clothes in my wardrobe since I went a bit loony after Matthew passed. I was angry with everything, and I guess I took that anger out on my clothing. I took a knife to dozens of tops, trousers, skirts and ripped them to shreds. Then I stuffed them all into black bags and threw them out. Maybe it was cleansing. Maybe I was just mental. But now, as I’m freshly showered and clad in a clean towel, all I can find to wear is an old pair of black jeans that have seen better days and a white long sleeved wool cardigan.

  It’s a twenty minute walk to the nearest Tesco, and I fill my trolley with all manner of items. I also get some deodorant, shampoo and shower gel. At the checkout a woman in her late thirties gives me varying degrees of dirty looks as she scans my items. What a bitch. I can tell that she hates her job, but that’s not my problem. The insides of my knuckles are red raw by the time I get home, the weight of the plastic bag handles having dug into them. My phone is already ringing inside of my apartment when I put my key in the front door. I hurry in, throw down the plastic bags in the hall and run to pick it up before it goes to voice mail.