Page 73 of Roguefinder

Caleb angled toward me and muttered, “Let’s get out of here.”

We were halfway to the exit when the music changed. Deep and sensual, it throbbed like a pulse. Bass thumped in my molars. A charge built in the air. Around the room, humans leaned forward in their chairs.

The pet who’d offered us prosecco set down her tray and crossed to a vampire seated at one of the tables. He smiled and reached for the buttons of her shirt.

Another male vampire stood, went to the stripper pole, and took the dancer by the hand. Fifty pairs of eyes fixed on them. The vampire led the dancer to a booth and pulled the man into his lap. The oil on the dancer’s back glistened as he straddled the vampire and tilted his head to the side.

The vampire bared long, white fangs. With a rattlesnake’s hiss, he plunged them into the dancer’s neck.

The dancer cried out, his body arching and his toes curling. The vampire gripped his ass, long fingers digging into the dancer’s buttocks, and urged the man’s hips into an undulating rhythm.

At the other table, the female pet was fully nude. She climbed over plates and wineglasses and stretched on her back. The vampire she’d approached pushed her thighs wide and buried his face between them. She squirmed, her lips parting on a gasp. A second later, blood trickled down her inner thigh.

She screamed, grabbed the back of the vampire’s head, and clutched him against her.

Another pet set down her tray and stepped out of her uniform. Then another.

And another.

Vampires pinned them against walls and tables. A human woman rose and pulled her dress over her head. The man next to her wriggled his suit jacket off his shoulders and yanked at his tie. A female vampire leaned against one of the tables with her skirt bunched above her hips, her head tipped back and her fingers twisted in the long blond hair of the pet kneeling between her thighs.

One of the silver-haired lawyers had crossed the chamber and sat in a chair across from the vampire and the dancer, who rode the vampire’s thighs as the vampire drained him. Eyes on the dancer’s flexing buttocks, the lawyer pulled out his cock and began masturbating.

The pet who’d led us from the theater sank to his knees in front of Francesco and rubbed his lips over the tenor’s groin. Francesco observed him for a moment before unzipping his trousers and feeding his cock into the pet’s mouth.

Sighs and soft cries joined the music’s deep, insistent beat. My senses prickled, and I snapped my gaze to Carlo’s.

He stood in the shadows on the other side of the chamber with his thin smile in place. With a single nod, he turned and walked to Francesco. The pet at the tenor’s feet moaned and moved his lips to the bulge between Carlo’s legs. Carlo leaned into Francesco and caught his mouth in an aggressive kiss. The pet on the table sat up, swung her legs over the side, and stumbled toward them. Blood and pink-tinged semen ran down her inner thighs.

Carlo reached for her without breaking his kiss. When she grabbed at his fingers, he seized her wrist and jerked her against him. The pet at his feet turned his head and lapped at the ejaculate between her legs. Francesco reached across Carlo and squeezed one of her breasts.

I put a hand in the small of Caleb’s back and guided him to the door. Alessia waited for us on the other side of it, and she said nothing as she turned and led us away from the chamber.

The thumping bass faded. Caleb caught my eye with anger and questions brimming in his.

We reached the side door that led to the alley. Alessia paused, her gaze on the floor between us. Nothing in her demeanor resembled the woman who’d delivered an invitation before vaulting a six-foot security fence.

“Buonanotte,” she said softly, then left in a whisper of fabric.

Caleb and I looked at each other.

“What the fuck?” he breathed.

“Come on.” I pushed open the door. He followed, bracing a hand against it as we crossed the threshold. He let out a low cry, and I spun in time to catch him as he crumpled.

“Caleb!” Panic twisted in my chest. I slung an arm around him and pulled him into the night-drenched alley. The door swung shut behind us.

He slumped against me, sweating and shaking. His lips were bloodless. His throat bobbed under his tie like he fought the urge to vomit.

“I’ve got you,” I said, wiggling a finger under the knot and loosening it. “Breathe, baby.”

“I’m okay,” he said. “Just a headache.”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Tightening my arm, I hustled him away from the opera house. When we reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street, he stumbled against me.

“I’m getting a cab,” I said.

“No.” He swallowed hard. “I’ll be sick in a car.”