Thorns of Fate Read online

  I didn’t know my dad. My mom had told me stories of him before she died but I was never really sure what had happened to him. After her death, my grandmother refused to speak of him which made me believe that he was involved somehow.

  For a time, I lived with her and Will and Kellic whose mother had died alongside my own. My family had come from wealth and the Santina Manor wasn’t exactly shy about making people aware of it. It was a bit ostentatious but it was home.

  The year that Will and Kellic turned nineteen and I, sixteen, our grandmother died too. She was driving home from a work function and fell asleep at the wheel. She drifted across a median, over a hill, and wrapped herself around a tree. Will and Kellic had always looked out for me, even taking over guardianship as my last remaining relatives.

  Ten years later, the three of us had graduated college. Will and Kellic had begun managing the family assets which had been held by a trust. It included several stores and other properties that had belonged to our family for decades. I stepped in when necessary to assist them, but really, I couldn't wait to begin my own enterprise. I'd always loved the nightclub scene. The pounding music that I could feel as much as hear always filled me with comfort.

  With Will and Kellic’s blessing, I was about ready to open my own nightclub. I was eager to make this place home, to make it my place. I didn’t dislike being around or living with my two best friends, but I was excited at the prospect of having something that was truly mine.

  Will and Kellic understood this and supported my every decision. They gave welcomed advice but didn’t chastise or demean me while offering aid. It was a blissful partnership. Club 920 was going to be the place my heart wanted to belong to. It would have the calming array of lights and throbbing pyrotechnics. It would have the thumping bass I could feel. And it would have a huge stylish apartment above it, designed by Kellic herself, to be my home away from home. It was perfect. Will and Kellic had agreed to sign on as managers if needed but at the end of the day, all the big decisions were mine to make.

  Will, Kellic, and myself had spent the better part of two years in board meetings, construction plannings. Then there were the partner brunches, vacations, and events that garnished our financial support. It was an exciting process, but I was eager for it to end and finally see what Club 920 could become.

  We had already selected our staff, some friends and some strangers.

  With them in their positions, the club could more or less run itself if I so chose.

  I rolled my eyes at Will, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “Time to go live, sleep, and breathe some more.” I winked at him, slipping behind the wheel of my Mercedes. He slid himself into my passenger seat and tossed his gym bag into the back.

  We pulled in front of Club 920 fifteen minutes later.

  The building was crammed between a sports pub style bar and a small dance studio. The front entry of the club was modernly designed, with blacked out glass lining a set of double doors. Will and I made our way to the entrance, while I pulled a set of heavy keys from my bag. I flipped through the keys, locating the one that I was looking for and jammed it into the lock. It swung open easily. Bright lights and thumping music poured out.

  “Looks like my little sister is here,” Will said, holding the door open and gazing around at the light show.

  “It’s about time,” came a bubbly voice. Kellic called down to us, leaning across the balcony overlooking the dance floor. She stepped away from the railing and reappeared a moment later from a door at the back of the building. She danced her way over to us, her steps light and dainty until she reached us. Then she slouched across the solid oak bar along our right side.

  Kellic was the epitome of beauty. She had dark hair, much like myself. It was braided delicately down the back of her head and drawn into a bun at the base of her neck. She had gorgeous amber eyes and pale skin. She was much shorter than Will and me, even though I was several inches shorter than him. His hair was a shade lighter than hers, his eyes held swirling forest green along with their amber. I was the one with vibrant blue eyes that matched neither of them.

  “So, what do you think?” she asked, turning to the colorful dance floor and pounding music. She ran her hand along the bar which was nearly black in the darkness. She perched her other hand atop her hip and looked around the room with satisfaction.

  Will let out a slow whistle. “So, you are good for something, huh, Kel?” She good-naturedly decked him on the arm and he laughed, rubbing the spot with faux tenderness.

  “It looks great, Kel,” I slid my hand across the same bar, feeling its velvety smooth hardwood beneath my fingertips. Then, I vaulted across the bar and grabbed a clear bottle and three shot glasses. I stacked them neatly across the tabletop and poured liquid in each. I lifted one glass up, gesturing to Kel and Will.

  “To opening day!” I exclaimed.

  Kellic grabbed one, lifted it with mine, and chimed, “To family!”

  Will joined us, clutching the last glass and making it look tiny in his huge palm, and said in the same jubilant tone, “To us!”

  We clinked the glasses against each other. It was like a spell was broken with the sound. The tension ran away, and for a moment, it was just us kids, supporting and loving each other like we always had.

  Each of us in turn tilted our glass to our lips and tossed the liquid down our throats. It had a pleasant, crystalline burn as it traveled down my esophagus, pooling warmth in my belly. I poured a second round of shots and returned the clear bottle to the shelves of liquors. Again, we tilted the glasses up and enjoyed the burn.

  “I see that you are already enjoying your own supply,” came a smooth voice from behind us. Sofia Maston came sauntering through the double doors. She wore a long red dress, cut asymmetrically around her knees. One side met at a slit at her thigh, the other hung to a point on her calf. Sofia had short curly black hair and dark mocha skin and looked absolutely stunning in the gown.

  “Well, well,” Kellic purred, admiring from where she sat atop the bar. “Don’t you look incredible!” She hopped down from the counter and gave Sofia a hug. Sofia rocked a step back from the encounter and laughed again.

  Sofia and Kellic had been friends for years. Kellic had actually been the one to introduce Sofia and I. Though I knew little of it, there was a heavy history there.

  “Why, thank you, Kellic.” Sofia leaned down to Kellic’s short stature and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then she and Kellic returned to the bar, just as the door swung open again.

  A gaggle of people tumbled in from outside, led by Tyler Castello, the club manager. He was followed by several of the staff that we had hired, in all nearly thirty people.

  The troop with Tyler became abuzz with activity, dashing to their posts and finalizing the last steps to opening. In mere hours now, our doors would be open for business.

  Tyler stopped before us, lifting his hand to his forehead. “Reporting for duty, Boss Lady, sir,” he bellowed, sliding onto a barstool beside us. He grinned at me as he saluted.

  He looked stunning tonight and I’ll admit, my eyes roved heavily across his form. He had dark brown hair, the color that looks black under just the right light. It was combed back tonight, in a style I’d never seen on him, leaving his face framed by bangs pulled back into the shape of a rolling wave. He was dressed in a fine black suit, crisp white shirt, and a silver silk tie hanging from his neck.

  He stared deeply into me. His eyes were alight with an eagerness I hadn’t expected from him and it lit his entire face. He looked young and positive and intelligent and dashing. It was everything I wouldn’t have anticipated from this 28 year old goofball I had grown to call such a dear friend.

  Tyler reached across the bar, and I admired the way his suit stretched across his muscled frame. He pulled back a clear bottle filled with amber liquid with the red insignia of a fire breathing demon plastered on its front. “I need to get in on this toasting,” he said, plopping another shot glass down and pulling the th
ree empties closer. He poured a splash of the liquid in each and it emitted the aroma of cinnamon. “Down the hatch, ladies and gents!” He swept up his shot glass and dumped back the drink, humming in appreciation.

  Will, Kellic, and I grabbed our glasses and followed suit. This burned even more than our previous drinks but the cinnamon made me feel warm.

  Tyler gestured toward, Anton, the bar manager, who quickly cleared the glasses away and returned the bottle to its place. “Now,” he looked heavily at me again, “Time to make your dreams come true.”

  He was right, as within the next few hours, the building came alive in a flurry of activity and truly began to look like the club that I had always dreamed of.

  Chapter Two

  I stood above the crowd, gazing down on hundreds of people as they flooded into the expansive room. Security lined ever door and wall. We had staffed more than usual for this night and it seemed that these accommodations were more of a necessity than a nicety.

  I had worried that my hopes would be dashed and none if any would show up. Those worries had been in vain.

  With perfect gradual deceleration, the music died down and the lights dimmed. A spotlight flicked on and swiveled up to my position on the balcony overhanging the dance floor.

  All eyes moved to me, including a shady figure pressed into the center of the crowd below me. I could just see a slip of pale hair from beneath the dark hood. From what I could see of the face, they had pale skin and nearly violet eyes. The color was shocking and unusual.

  “And now, a word from our gracious host!” The loudspeakers blared the words of Sean, our DJ, as she bellowed what was to be my cue to begin.

  My eyes darted to her, a woozy feeling filling my belly. I had anticipated maybe a bit of stage fright, but this was dark and deep within my gut--a feeling of wrongness. My instincts pulled against me, urging me to follow the figure.

  Sean glanced up at me, her eyes wide. I could read the words within them. You’ve got this. Go!

  I cleared my throat and swept my gaze across the crowd, looking again for the hooded figure. I caught sight of the definitely feminine silhouette as she drew farther toward the bar. There was a door there under guard that was for associates only and I knew it still had the plaque saying so. A burly man lined the hall on either side, but they seemed not to have noticed her yet.

  “Now, for Ms. Kyra Santina!” Sean said again, urging me forward with her eyes. She smoothed over my lapse but watched me carefully.

  I cleared my throat again, looking down at hundreds of faces eagerly staring back at me. “Thank you for that graceful introduction, Sean!" I fell easily into the role, separating it from myself. This was nightclub owner Kyra who wasn't petrified at all of those expectant gazes.

  I gestured at the bar below and pointed out the leaders of this club. First was Tyler Castello, former high school crush and close friend turned general manager. Then, I turned to Sophia who lounged in the VIP section with half a dozen others. She was another longtime friend and also part of our board of trustees. After her was Sean herself. Sean Williams had partied hard with me and Kellic in college. She was a wizard with music, landing her her job. Last and the one I knew the least, Anton Lereaux bowed his head as I nodded to him. He was our bar manager. His amber eyes watched me closest of all.

  I scanned the crowd, my gaze falling immediately on that hooded figure. She didn't turn to me like the rest of the room did and slipped past the two guards and down the hall.

  I introduced the emergency exits as was mandatory but I was eager to follow after the woman. She was small, the rest of the patrons towering over her and nearly hiding her escape.

  I turned the cue back to Sean as my speech concluded. The music rose until once again, I could feel the bass rattling my bones. The blood pumping in my ears was all I could hear. Sean said something in time with the beat but it was lost to me as I slipped from my post and made my way toward the alley door.

  I reached the bottom of the steps to the VIP section in time to see the heavy metal door swing shut. Neither of the guards flinched at its closing. I approached the man on the left. He was twice my size and built like a stone statue. He had a handsome face but was so thoroughly muscular that it was nearly unattractive. “Who just went through that door?” I asked, nearly shrieking to be heard.

  He looked down at me, confused, and leaned close to try to hear me a second time. I repeated myself and his brow furrowed. “No one, ma’am.” He crossed his arms over his chest and returned to his full height.

  “I just saw someone duck out that door!” I urged. He seemed to hear me this time but only shrugged and shook his head.

  “I didn’t see anyone.” He glanced at his compatriot. “Hey, Tony!” The other gargantuan man turned his head. “You see anyone head through that door?” he asked, jutting a gigantic thumb toward the employee exit. Tony shook his head. The original man--Isaac--turned back to me with an expression on his face that said “See? Told you so.”

  I shook my head, exasperated. I saw her, whoever she was. I had watched her meander her way through the crowd. It wasn’t as if I could’ve imagined her. I pushed past Isaac and Tony and shoved my way through the door without another thought.

  The night was dark and cool, a true juxtaposition to the hot, sweaty, and bright interior of the club. I blinked hard, dots of brightly colored lights floating through my vision. The alley looked like it always had. Our dumpsters lined the left wall, away from the driveway. The alley was empty, void of any vehicles or human life.

  Or so I thought.

  Something barreled into my chest, flinging me from my feet. My head connected with something hard and pain shot through my neck and back. I blinked at orbs floating through my vision that had nothing to do with the pulsing lights of the club.

  “This ‘er, boss?” A voice spoke from the darkness. It was rough, masculine, and stained with a British accent.

  “It does appear to be,” another speaker responded. This voice was delicate, definitely feminine, and had a more dainty accent. “Collect some of her blood; you certainly spilled enough of it.” If I didn't know any better, I would have said the female voice sounded irritated.

  “Sorry, boss. Guess I don’t know my own strength,” the man responded with a chuckle. “What do you want me to do with her after?” I felt him lift my arm, which didn’t respond when I told it to pull away. A sharp stab pressed into the inside of my elbow.

  “Let Raoul have his way with her. He’ll be quite pleased. Then get him back under control and back to HQ.” Footsteps padded away from where I lay.

  My vision began to clear and my world shifted into focus around me. The hooded figure walked away calmly and casually. She looked back over her shoulder, as though she could feel my gaze lingering on her. Her eyes which were deep and soul-weary hadn’t been a trick of the light. They were definitely purple, almost lavender. She had supple pink lips and pale skin with a heart shaped face. Her hair was pale blonde and tucked mostly under the hood. She grinned at me, turned her head, and continued on her way.

  Over me was a brutish man. He was huge, bigger even than Tony and Isaac. His forearm way nearly the size of my waist, his fingers almost as big as my wrist. He had a tiny syringe connected to my arm, and he pulled gently on the plunger, extracting hot red blood from my veins. He had long shaggy, unkempt hair, and dark almost black eyes. They seemed to be tinged around the edges, with what I would’ve sworn was a deep red.

  While I could now see, my body betrayed me when I couldn’t force my limbs to move.

  Shaggy withdrew the syringe, flicking a button along its length. The needle retracted. He thrust the tiny thing back into his pocket, which I had the presence of mind to think wasn't a good place for a syringe. “Good luck, little lady. Raoul isn’t known for his kindness,” he grumbled in his gravelly voice. Then he turned, and loped after the tiny British woman.

  I struggled against the frailty of my own body, forcing some sort of movement through my limbs. At
last, my fingers wiggled, and I seemed to regain full capacity, though it came slowly. Freaking lunatics. Who the hell jumps someone and takes their blood?! I stretched my arms out, the tingling numbness of immobility fading and drew myself to my feet. Below me, a puddle of dark red liquid spread out around me along the pavement. I turned and realized the object I’d slammed into was the side of one of the bright green dumpsters. It now held a Kyra sized dent and was smeared with my blood.

  And just as I’d regained my footing, a fist slammed into my back. Pain exploded through me, and I barely managed to remain upright. This was a cheap tactic, but one I had been trained to withstand. I ducked, my body begging me to stop moving and swept my foot across the ground. I connected hard and the figure behind me collapsed, shaking the ground. He--it was definitely a man--howled furiously.

  I didn't hesitate. I ran back towards the entrance of the club, fumbling with my keys to find the right one. It was a typical alley door, only entered with the key, with no knob to pull on. I knew that pounding on it would be completely lost to the drone of music.

  At last, I found the right key.

  And walked right into someone’s quite solid chest.

  I glanced up.

  The man before me could only be called a “man” lightly. He towered over me and his eyes burned with ferocity only akin to some sort of raging beast. They also burned red. Like scarlet freaking red. His wide lips spread into a grin that exposed—dare I say it?—fangs. And with what seemed to be a secondary thought, he whipped his arm towards me and backhanded me across the chest.

  I had seen the blow coming and had placed my feet where they needed to be to withstand a forward assault as it had been. But it didn’t matter.

  The force of the blow felt like it caved my rib cage, smashing into me and sending me hurling back down the alley like a rag doll. I struggled to draw in breath, feeling like the ability had been lost to me. I could feel small tears along my flesh where I had been skinned across my limbs and they burned as though they were on fire. Fortunately, though my head still throbbed, my vision remained clear.