First Sight [Diablo Falls] Read online

  "It wasn’t something I ate, and sadly there's no cure for what's wrong with me, sir. What can I do for you?" Gwen’s tone was flippant.

  "Terminal, huh?" He cocked one brow at her, and her eyes narrowed on him. "I'll have the twelve-ounce filet, rare, and a bottle of the Latour Bordeaux."

  He turned back to his email, but watched Gwen from the corner of his eye.

  “Yeah, buddy, my bitchiness is terminal.” If it wasn’t for his heightened hearing, he wouldn’t have heard the mumbled retort as she walked away.

  Clearly last time hadn’t been a fluke. Gwen was just as snarky as ever.

  * * *

  Gwen

  Gwen couldn't believe the man. He basically called her a bitch, ordered, then dismissed her by sticking his nose in his phone. After several minutes she felt the aggravating man’s gaze boring into her back, so she slowly, very slowly, wandered to the end of the bar.

  “Yes?” She stared back at him.

  “My wine.”

  His arctic blue eyes pinned her, like they were having a staring contest. He had lovely eyes, but nothing would compensate for a shitty personality. Jesus, he was larger up close than she remembered. The man had broad shoulders, and probably pushed seven foot tall. It went right along with his larger than life persona. It didn’t matter, neither his size nor his smirk intimidated her.

  "Well, sir, I wasn't able to ask you what year of the Latour you'd prefer, and I didn't want to be rude by interrupting you." Take that, asshat!

  "The sixty-five, of course. That's 1865. Did you manage to place my steak order, or should I repeat that?"

  I know he didn’t just growl at me!

  Surely no one was this much of a tool. He had to be baiting her. It felt almost like a challenge. Well, he was going to learn manners today.

  * * *

  Tyr

  Tyr almost spit out his wine when Gwen set the plate in front of him. It was exactly what he ordered, a bloody rare filet on a bare white porcelain plate, and nothing more. It was absent of everything else that usually came with it. It was a fallacy that his kind didn't eat. You didn't reach the top of the food chain and not enjoy eating. Gwen truly had no clue who or what he was, or she'd think twice before acting so spiteful. Maybe the vexing woman would be his next meal. Tyr ran his tongue along one fang.

  She’d probably taste sour.

  He gestured to the plate, floored by her temerity.

  “Yes?” She tilted her head quizzically, feigning ignorance.

  “I think you forgot something.” He prodded her with more compulsion than he used last time he attempted to sway the difficult woman.

  The look Gwen gave him was saccharine sweet. "No. You were very explicit with your order. Filet, rare. I am happy to get the accompanying vegetables if you would like."

  She said she’d happily get him the sides but it was clearly a lie. Tyr’s brow furrowed in consternation, compulsion always worked.

  "Don't bother," he grumbled and stabbed into his lonely steak.

  Before Gwen turned away, he caught the most genuine smile she'd cracked the entire time he’d known her. It softened her face considerably. In fact, she was damn near radiant.

  “Game, set and match,” he heard her whisper under her breath.

  Tyr grinned. He’d let her have her little victory, for now. But the game was most certainly on and he’d caught scent of a very intriguing prey.

  * * *

  Gwen

  Why are assholes so sexy? And why does he have to look so damn good in that suit? Jesus, what is wrong with me? Gwen debated her masochistic streak as she walked the few blocks home.

  It was late, but after her encounter with Tyr she was wide awake. The fact he’d actually tipped her was almost more shocking than when he hadn’t, since she’d intentionally given him shitty service tonight.

  God, I’m being such a bitch. He’s probably not a total asshole. There was just something about the man that set her on edge.

  Maybe I’ll watch a Bond movie. She then smirked at herself. You know why you want to watch that. Pathetic, just pathetic.

  Despite being disgusted with herself, she started singing the theme song to her favorite film as she reveled in the night air.

  * * *

  Tyr

  Tyr watched Gwen at a comfortable distance. He didn’t even have to use his gifts as he stalked her. She casually meandered along the sidewalk, oblivious and unconcerned with her surroundings. The woman was daft to be walking home alone at this late hour. Didn't she know predators lurked in the night?

  She’s making this too easy.

  Gwen pulled out her hair clip. The all too severe bun fell apart, and her wavy auburn hair cascaded down her back. Her hair and ass swished back and forth, begging him to pounce.

  It’s time to teach her not to taunt the big bad wolf!

  “This is the end,” she called out, and Tyr stopped in his tracks. Did she somehow know he was there?

  Then she continued. She was singing. Her voice rose sultry and unfettered as she crooned the sad melody. It bounced off the buildings, echoing like an impromptu concert hall. How did such a shrew possess the voice of a wounded angel?

  Before he recovered his senses, she entered a four-story apartment. Moments later the lights went on in the second-story dwelling. As much as the idea of draining Gwen just to shut her up had appealed, her opportune escape earned her a reprieve for the evening.

  Playtime was over. He should go home, he had more than enough on his plate. Instead, Tyr leapt onto the fire escape and scaled the building. He watched her walk through the bedroom and disappear into the bathroom. Gwen was obviously poor as shit, her furniture well-worn. Her apartment wasn’t dirty but it was cluttered.

  “Hell,” he groaned when she emerged from the bathroom dressed in a pair of small shorts and a tight tank top.

  For the second time that evening she held him mesmerized. Her legs were shapely and so were her tits. He could clearly see the outline of her nipples through the thin fabric. The way her breasts bounced as she hopped up on her bed taunted him. Unfortunately, the lush body was accompanied by an acerbic mouth.

  Of course, there are other ways to silence her. The memory of Gwen's red lips saying the words, “What can I do for you,” made him hard. But this time he imagined her on her knees in front of him.

  No doubt if I got my cock anywhere near the hell cat's mouth she'd bite. That should’ve been enough to deflate the problem pressing against the fly of his slacks, but it wasn’t. I must like torture.

  Gwen reclined on her bed and started watching a movie. He debated leaving then noticed it was an action film.

  Her taste in movies isn’t all that bad. I haven’t seen this one. He relaxed into the shadows, resting against the iron railing.

  Fifteen minutes into the movie, a humming sound caught his attention. His gaze swiveled from the screen to Gwen on the bed. His eyes widened seeing she’d pulled her shorts aside and had a pink wand pressed against her pussy. She was biting her plump bottom lip as she vigorously rocked the toy, while intently watching the screen. He glanced back at the television and his eyes widened seeing the blond-haired, blue-eyed action hero wearing a Tom Ford suit. Her object of desire held an uncanny resemblance.

  “Fuck,” he snarled under his breath, his cock jerking hard in his pants.

  Gwen moaned and he found himself unzipping his fly, one hand fisting his cock. It was a damn shame he couldn’t see her pussy, but he did have a good view of the growing damp spot on the crotch of her shorts. His thumb worked his crown as he stroked his stiff arousal, imaging her slick puffy lips enveloping his cock instead of the vibrating toy.

  Tyr’s nostrils flared, sucking in a deep breath, desperate to catch the scent of her desire. He cursed the damn window between them as he pumped harder, matching her building speed.

  “No,” he huffed when she bent her leg, hiding what little view he had. Even with this voyeuristic act she was proving frustrating. “Come on, drop
that knee.”

  His breath stuttered in his chest when surprisingly she let her knee fall to the side, as if she’d heard his demand. His cock swelled harder in his fist, seeing the wisp of the ruddy curly hair covering her mound. He felt foolish for getting so excited by a sight he’d seen in more intimate detail a hundred times before. And yet somehow the anticipation of catching a glimpse of her swollen glistening folds was infinitely more erotic.

  “Gods, woman,” Tyr groaned.

  His cock pulsed as she started to tremble. The flush on her heaving chest that extended up to her cheeks was gorgeous. She really was stunning.

  Tyr froze when her face turned toward the window. She couldn’t possibly see him in the shadows. He relaxed, noticing her dazed expression. Gwen ground the phallus harder against her clit and then her hand stilled. Her whole body shook with the orgasm, her toes curling. Her free hand clawed the sheets and Tyr could almost feel her nails digging into his back.

  Fuck! He came hard, staring at her lips parted with a silent cry of ecstasy. His own body convulsed as his release shot out in halting spurts.

  I have serious problems, Tyr groaned as he regained his senses. He couldn’t believe he’d played the peeping tom.

  Quietly he leapt from the fire escape. The enigmatic female plagued his thoughts the entire way home. She was mouthy but could sing like a siren. No amount of compulsion worked to sway her. She was beautiful when she wasn't frowning at him. And when she orgasmed—well—he didn’t have words to describe the way she made him feel.

  In short, Gwen was a thorn in his side.

  Chapter Three

  Gwen

  Gwen groaned when Tyr walked through the doors. How many times is that this week?

  Thankfully he didn't head straight for the bar. She couldn't figure out why he'd graced her with his presence the last time. He was going to get her fired.

  Behave. Landon and Owen's business depended on good paying customers, even if those customers have shitty personalities. Service with a smile. Service with a smile. That was the mantra to remember.

  Tonight, Tyr had guests with him. Maybe he’d given up on tormenting her and things had gone back to the way they were. There was an elegant looking woman with long, sleek black hair and a tight-fitting suit to match. She had this femme fatale thing going for her. Gwen wondered if she was Tyr’s girlfriend, or just the flavor of the moment. The woman was downright gorgeous. The man who sat on Tyr’s other side was tall, dark and very handsome. In fact, the trio were disturbingly good looking, like they'd stepped off a magazine cover.

  She felt downright frumpy in her navy skirt, white dress shirt, and vest. The uniform they wore behind the bar was far from sexy. But it didn't really matter what she wore, she’d never been a girly girl. She didn’t know how to do her hair, so she kept it long and bang-free. Every time she pretended to be a real girl and got a manicure, it was destroyed within hours. Gwen prided herself in being handy, she could change a tire in less than thirty minutes. But men flocked to the helpless, bubbly damsels in distress, not the capable strong ones.

  Oh crap!

  She'd nearly forgotten Tyr's bottle of Bordeaux. The irksome man had left it on his last visit. He was lucky she tagged the expensive vintage and placed it in the cellar. Gwen pulled the bottle and walked over to his table in the dining area.

  Just leave the bottle and go back to the bar. She promised to behave herself for Owen and Landon’s sake.

  * * *

  Tyr

  Tyr looked up and almost groaned out loud. Gwen was heading toward their table. His cock jumped but he ignored it.

  Mind your manners, woman.

  It was bad enough she showed attitude when they interacted alone, but in front of his associates was a different matter. Disrespect wouldn't be tolerated. He didn't allow it among his people, so he certainly wouldn't from a human. The loss of face would lead to chaos.

  "Pardon me, sir, but you forgot your wine the other night. Did you want to have the rest of the bottle this evening or would you like me to keep it in the cellar for later?" She wasn't sarcastic or flippant as she held the bottle out for him to examine.

  "Now is fine," he replied, trying to not appear shocked by her professionalism.

  "Very good."

  Gwen poured the last half of the bottle into their three glasses. As she did, she graced Sonja and Ruiz with a smile, not an over ingratiating or sardonic expression, but an actual smile. His eyes widened, then narrowed.

  How do they warrant her best behavior, where I get shit?

  What was wrong with him? He wanted her to show them respect, yet when she did, it annoyed him.

  "Have a good evening." Gwen nodded then left.

  "She smells delicious, almost like this Bordeaux." Ruiz’s gaze followed Gwen back to the bar. He looked at her like he wanted to take a bite out of her, or fuck her, maybe both.

  His friend was right, Gwen did smell good. But it wasn't an earthy scent, like the Bordeaux. She smelled more of raspberries, like a fresh Pinot Noir.

  "Don't get any bright ideas, Ruiz.”

  The Spaniard turned to him with a wounded look. "Do you expect me to have no fun at all?" Ruiz smiled mischievously as he glanced back at the bar.

  The urge to tackle his friend came over him swiftly. Tyr took a deep breath before responding. "I like this place. I'd hate to not be welcomed back." He had difficulty keeping the bite out of his tone.

  "So, is just the girl off limits, or the entire place?" Sonja asked with a quirk of her lips.

  He glared at her as he considered the question. "You may recommend the restaurant, but no hunting the staff or patrons,” he rumbled the warning.

  Sonja nodded. His lieutenant would oversee all the guests who would soon arrive.

  "So, what do you think Devon will say for himself?" Ruiz, his closest friend and ally outside his clan, changed the subject.

  "I don’t care what the Sovereign has to say. It’s his actions that concern me,” he replied in all seriousness.

  “I looked at your report, Ruiz. The number of fledgling nests you’ve put down are staggering.” Sonja shook her head.

  “And I estimate that I’ve only discovered a fraction,” Ruiz growled.

  “I assume you questioned their leaders?” Sonja asked between sips of wine.

  “Leaders!” Ruiz barked a sarcastic laugh. “They are such a feral bloodthirsty lot, they have no leaders. If it weren’t for the sheer carnage they wreak upon humanity, I could probably let them go and the problem would take care of itself. Vegas is the Sin City, but the human casualties I’ve been forced to cover up have gone up exponentially in the last few years. But yes, I’ve questioned the mangy fledglings and they all come from California.”

  “You’ve done well keeping things under wraps, considering.” Tyr nodded to his friend. “If Devon is sending these mongrel nests into your region to destabilize you, then its wasted effort. His machinations threaten our kind. If he claims to be ignorant of these lawless fledgling bands leaking over your border, then that’s even worse. It means he’s lost all control of his region. Either way, that Sovereign better get his shit together or he'll leave the gathering in a goddamn urn."

  Devon wasn’t the first upstart who’d grown too big for his breeches, it was doubtful he’d be the last. And if their current dilemma was due to the latter, then it was best to put the weak pup down.

  They discussed their plans and who would make a suitable replacement if Devon didn’t set things right in his region. It was important business, but his concentration was elsewhere and his gaze kept darting toward the bar throughout the evening. He needed to end this foolish preoccupation.

  "There’s something about this town. I can see why you decided to make it your new base of operations. How about a tour?" Ruiz suggested once they finished dinner.

  That was truer than Ruiz knew. The Kindred weren’t the only supernatural element in Diablo Falls. That was part of what drew him to the city in the first place. But
his duties had kept him busy and he hadn’t had time to acquaint himself with the various people rumored to live here.

  "I’m sorry. I know we haven’t seen each other for a few years, but I have some business to handle. Sonja, would you mind showing Ruiz around?”

  He needed to order several cases of wine and spirits for the coming week. Blood and booze would be on the house. Thankfully this was the age of an easy meal. One could order blood from a blood bank with the right paperwork. Granted, most Kindred preferred a live meal, but his hospitality only went so far. The massive influx into a city this small would likely be noticed if they all hunted. He wasn't about to invite extra problems.

  “No worries. I will be in exceptional company.” Ruiz smiled at Sonja and the pair left.

  Gwen was cutting lemons as Tyr approached the bar. Her tongue was sticking out and she was biting it provocatively while she sliced the citrus, nearly making him forget why he was here.

  “I'd like to order several cases of alcohol," he said when he found his voice.

  "Let me wash my hands to write, or I can get Rob to help you." Gwen glanced up from her task. She looked at him with ambivalence. That was almost more frustrating than her flippant comments.

  "Don't stop what you're doing, just tell me what's available," he replied, despite wanting her undivided attention.

  * * *

  Gwen

  "Did you want a mix of what we have on hand or something in particular?" As Gwen glanced up at Tyr, her knife slipped. "Shit!" She quickly pulled her hand back and clutched her finger. She’d gotten distracted and nicked herself.

  "Here, let me see it," Tyr insisted, his voice deeper than she recalled, as his gaze zeroed in on her hand.

  "Just give me a second."

  Tyr took her hand in his. Her mouth gaped as he lifted it to his mouth. Time seemed to stand still as he sucked the tip of her finger between his lips. His tongue rolled over her skin and her eyes widened.