The Alpha's
The Blood Bar Chronicles
Part One: The Alpha’s
Breathless Press
Calgary, Alberta
www.breathlesspress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or
persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
The Blood Bar Chronicles
Copyright© 2012 Breathless Press
ISBN: 978-1-77101-062-7
Cover Artist: Victoria Miller
Editor: Jackie Moore
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in reviews.
Breathless Press
www.breathlesspress.com
The Blood Bar Chronicles
Part One: The Alpha’s
In Her Element
Jorja Lovett
Chapter One
“I’ve gotta go. No phones allowed inside the conference hall, I’m afraid. I’ll call you later.” Ana Chapman switched her cell phone to silent, surprised and a tad dismayed to find how easily the lies had slipped off her tongue.
The Blood Bar loomed ahead, the tawdry red neon sign distinguishing it from all the other drab stone buildings along the residential Scottish street. Ana wanted to throw up. She had held it together on the flight, and while checking into the hotel, and shopping for the figure-hugging black skirt and scarlet silk blouse she wore. But now that she was here, the prospect of the actual meeting filled her with dread that she wouldn’t hold up to expectation.
She pulled a small mirror from her purse to check her reflection. Unused to makeup she could only hope the swipe of mascara to frame her brown eyes and the dab of gloss on her lips would do the job. Trying to tame the waves of her dark hair proved impossible, so she gave up and, clutching her black shoulder bag like a security blanket, pushed the door open.
The noise, the heat, and the throng of people inside almost sent her running back to Belfast. Ana took a deep breath and focused on finding a familiar face to rescue her, though it was hard to pick anyone out through the bobbing crowd of eager young patrons.
Conscious of her small five-foot-three frame, the black heels that had seemed like a good idea at the time now wobbled underfoot as she made her way across the floor and she longed for the comfort of sensible shoes.
“Excuse me. Sorry. Can I just get past, please?” Like a test of endurance, she nudged through to the bar. At least there she had something tangible to hold onto.
“Glass of iced water, please,” she said when the barman eventually noticed her.
The panic gradually subsided when she took the first cool sip. I’ve made it this far. It’s a start!
Only having thumbnail-sized photos to go from, Ana hoped she would recognize the members of the online Wicked Ladies of Fiction writers’ group. Some might call it risky, stupid even, traveling all this way from Northern Ireland to meet people she had never actually spoken to, but they were the closest thing she had to friends. Not only did they critique and strengthen each other’s work over the Internet, but they supported each other through personal ups and downs too. It was that connection that made Ana determined to make it to one of these monthly gatherings and finally meet her friends in person.
While she waited anxiously for their arrival, she did a little people watching. From those in business attire who had obviously just clocked off work, to those out on the pull, chatting up the opposite sex, it was easy to separate the patrons into groups. Except for one man.
Sitting alone at the opposite side of the bar, he didn’t appear affiliated with either faction and watched the others as intently as she.
He intrigued her. Unlike the metrosexual clones in residence with their boy band haircuts and designer logo emblazoned T-shirts, his reddish brown hair was swept back into a semiquiff, and he wore a plain white T under a black leather jacket. She also noted that no one encroached on his personal space—no mean feat in this sardine tin. Is it my imagination, or does the air around him seem to shimmer?
As though he sensed her gaze upon him, he looked from the backslapping, male bonding beside him to her. His eyes locked with hers, and his mouth, up until then unsmiling, tilted at one corner. He cocked his head in an “I’m interested if you are” fashion that Ana didn’t know how to react to. Was she interested? She really didn’t have a notion of what to do if she was.
“There you are!”
Ana jumped back to reality when an arm landed across her shoulders.
“We thought you’d got lost.” One of the reasons Ana had embarked on this adventure tugged excitedly on her arm. “We’re over there.” The chestnut-haired beauty lifted her drink and left her no choice but to follow. With one last glance back at her James Dean wannabe, Ana saw him raise a glass and wink back at her.
Although she hadn’t introduced herself, Ana knew Arielle from her profile picture and she trailed her over to the booth seat to meet with Kyla too. Of mixed race, with reddish brown hair and green eyes, Kyla was a very striking woman among the pale Celts in the room.
“How was your flight?” Arielle asked, reclaiming Ana’s attention.
“Fine.” Ana nodded as though it was an everyday occurrence for her. Then, realizing she’d shared so much of her life with WLF, she knew they’d understand what a big deal this trip was for her. “Actually, it’s the first time I’ve ever taken a flight on my own, and I was a nervous wreck,” she admitted with a laugh.
“How did your mum take it?” Arielle knew all about Ana’s overbearing mother.
“I told her I was coming to Edinburgh for a toy exhibition and to learn how to promote the shop online. I mean, she could hardly say no with pound signs flashing in front of her, could she? But of course, I couldn’t leave without witnessing her dying swan act first.” Ana sighed. It was difficult to separate fact from fiction with her mother’s ailments, and she suspected more and more that it was a ploy just to stop her from having a life of her own.
Arielle snorted. “What was it this time? A brain tumor?”
“That’s not far off it.” Ana reached for her glass and took a sip. “Migraine. Then she thought she was going blind. I sent for Aunt Madge to sort her out.”
The girls giggled their approval and Ana knew she would never have taken this step out of her mother’s shadow without their cajoling.
“Do we have a plan of what’s happening?” she asked her companions.
They exchanged looks, and Arielle came back with a, “Nope!”
“Chatting, drinking, and with Arielle’s luck, pulling blokes,” Kyla replied, making Ana choke on her drink. She couldn’t stop the burning in her cheeks as she thought about the possibilities now that she was free from a disapproving parent breathing down her neck. Girlie chats, alcohol, boys—all the things she had missed out on in her stifled upbringing—now seemed so exciting to this twenty-six-year-old.
“Come on, I’ll get us a bottle of wine,” Kyla said, and Ana set her water to one side. For one weekend, she intended to let loose and have some fun. She cast an eye around the room, and in among the young and beautiful, she spotted a few odd looking characters hanging on the fringes who gave her a weird vibe. She shivered. With a knack for gauging the atmosphere in a room—a skill gleaned from living with her mother’s changeable moods—The Blood Bar had begun to emanate a strange, uneasy energy for Ana.
Josie chose that moment to arrive, her out-there appearance and array of colorful tattoos giving away her identity.
“You all right, doll?” she asked in her thick Scottish accent
when Ana moved to make room for her.
“Yeah,” Ana said, but she just couldn’t shake that eerie feeling, especially when she caught sight of the stranger at the bar still watching her. She wasn’t used to the attention and it was freaking her out.
By the time the rest of the group filtered in, with redhead Noelle and a harassed looking Dizzy following close behind, Ana had already downed two glasses of wine, and her anxieties about meeting new people slipped away under the banter of the group. Their collective good mood faltered only when some loser spilled a drink over poor Dizzy just as Nico arrived.
“Eejit!” Ana bravely added to the insults thrown in his direction and she got to her feet to mop up the mess after Dizzy left for the bathroom.
A sudden tingling sensation started at the apex of Ana’s thighs and suffused her with an overwhelming feeling of bliss. From an invisible source, the surge of sexual electricity thrummed through her body, sparking every nerve ending with awareness. The pool of desire between her legs was unlike anything she had felt before and soon all she could think about was her need to reach that peak of selfish pleasure.
A little moan popped out of her mouth and she braced herself against the booth as the new experience rolled over her. Embarrassed by her untimely display, she looked to catch the reaction of the others, but they appeared to be having a similar experience. Everyone’s attention was focused on the blond guy at the door and most of the girls were writhing in their seats. Ana wondered where Kyla and Josie had gone, and she peered over the top of the booth only to find herself mesmerized by the handsome figure in the doorway.
The tingling grew stronger, her arousal soaking her panties so much she was forced to look away and concentrate on not falling apart in the middle of the bar. She loathed the fact she was losing control over her body and hastily made the decision to dash to the bathroom. Whatever was happening to her, she didn’t want to do it in public.
Ana didn’t make it past the end of the bar before an arm shot out to block her path and corner her in an alcove. “You can see me.” A masculine voice sounded behind her.
“Well, duh! I’m not blind.” She turned and tried to brush him off, but he wasn’t for budging.
“You okay?”
“What? Yes.” She looked up into those amazing green eyes that had haunted her since her arrival.
“You look a little…hot.” He leaned in, a hand placed on either side of her head, pinning her against the wall.
“That’s why I’m trying to get to the bathroom, genius.” Ana wasn’t so naive she would fall at the feet of the first man she’d met, no matter how good-looking he was. Or how horny she may be.
“You shouldn’t be going through this alone,” he whispered. “What’s your name?”
“An…Ana.”
“Relax and go with it, Ana.”
“Go with what?” she asked as another wave of uncontrollable ecstasy washed over her.
“That,” he said, giving her a lopsided smirk. He bent down until his lips were almost touching hers. “This.”
Ana held her breath, her heart pounded, knowing she was waiting for that kiss. She was a slave to her arousal—the tightening of her nipples, the dampness between her legs—all awaiting his touch. Her eyes fluttered shut, but the kiss never came.
The warmth of his breath skimmed across her skin and down her neck until Ana couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Mmm.” She bit her lip, attempting to stem the pressure building inside, but she was too far gone. Her legs quivered in the precarious heels and she flattened her hands against the wall to steady herself. All at once, her release came—fast, furious, and feeling fucking amazing.
“Well, that’s a first.”
At the sound of his deep voice in her ear, she fought her way back through the haze. “What is?”
“I’ve never made a woman come without laying a finger on her.” He stirred that fluttering sensation all over again.
“You didn’t—I didn’t—I’ve never—” she said indignantly, then gave a frustrated grunt. “Get out of my way!” Embarrassed and confused by her behavior, she shoved him in the chest and made her escape, to the ringing sound of his laughter.
Chapter Two
Zanaan was thankful no one else in the bar could see him or his hard-on. In fact he hadn’t figured out how this girl could see him when, as an Elemental, he was invisible even to the majority of the supes here unless he chose to reveal himself.
Once he’d ordered his drink, he’d faded out to view the goings on—his version of reality TV. The Blood Bar was a portal where many worlds crossed over, not that the ignorant humans knew anything of it or the beings that frequented the place to take advantage of the lesser species. But this woman was different from every other he used to satiate his needs; her incredible energy drew him in.
Perhaps it was her fiery Irish temperament that held his attention and made him feel protective over her, but when the merman dropped in to stir up the female population with his siren song, Zanaan didn’t want anyone else making a move on her. As much as he had claimed responsibility for her untimely orgasm, he knew that the man from Atlantis over at the door had warbled it into fruition. Zanaan was determined to take the credit for her next one.
He watched as she emerged from the bathroom, gave a quick glance in his direction, and then hurried back to her table. While she was gone, Zanaan saw her companions, also under Fishlips’s spell, pair off with his fellow supes and dwindle the number of people she was trying to hide behind. He wasn’t easily put off. He wanted another crack at getting her alone, the heat of her desire was impossible to ignore.
Skirting the perimeter of the room, he employed his party trick that never ceased to impress the ladies. Unseen, except to Ana, he reached over each table to light the candle centerpieces with his mere touch. She didn’t even blink.
Hmm, so she wasn’t his average conquest that he could win over with a flick of his fingers. That just made her all the more attractive. Maybe getting a rise out of that temper would do the trick.
Ensuring he was directly in her eye line, Zanaan moved to the table behind hers, where the female occupants sat with their backs to the candle, leaning over their seats to flirt with men from another group. He raised his hand, coaxing the flame higher, and with a tilt of his palm, angled it until the fire licked the ends of long blond hair before it.
His brown-eyed girl looked on aghast as he courted disaster with the ebb and flow of the flame at his command. Knocking the table as she abruptly got to her feet, he got exactly the reaction he had hoped for.
Hands on hips, she strode over to him. “What the hell are you playing at?”
Still invisible to everyone, he diverted her to a quiet corner where she wouldn’t stand out as the crazy lady talking to thin air. “I just wanted to get your attention.”
“Well, I don’t go in for silly, dangerous games. I’ve come a long way to be with my friends and I’d be grateful if you’d take your pyromaniac tendencies elsewhere!”
Her spunk drove him all kinds of crazy. Who needed little blue pills for an instant erection when he had this little firecracker to get his juices flowing? “In case you haven’t noticed, Irish, your friends are otherwise engaged.” Zanaan nodded toward the scattered females grabbing the attention of every vamp and shape-shifter in the vicinity.
“They’re here to enjoy themselves, I suppose,” she murmured, her shoulders sagging slightly.
“And you’re not?” He was astute enough to pick up on her disappointment at being abandoned.
“Of course I am,” she said with that fighting spirit back in place.
“Good. I’m sure I can be of some assistance in that department.” He stepped forward to make his move, confident in his prowess.
Ana shot him a look that made him fear for his testicles. “I don’t think so. I’m finding out I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.” She retrieved her bag from the booth and swept out of the bar in an elegant huff.
Tears stung Ana’s eyes as she clip-clopped across the cobbled streets of Edinburgh, trying not to feel let down by the whole experience. A lot of money, lies, and bravery invested on her part didn’t seem to count for much with the people she thought of as friends. They were too caught up in their own adventures to notice her departure.
And then there was the issue of her fire-starter friend. She didn’t know what his game was, teasing and winding her up. The only thing that irked her more than this man she barely knew making fun of her, was the way her traitorous body responded to him. Living life as per her mother’s instruction, Ana hadn’t been allowed to discover who she really was, her wants, and likes. And now, given her wanton behavior the first time released into the wild, she wondered if she wasn’t a bit of a slut at heart.
How can I possibly go back to my dreary life behind Mum’s shop counter when I’ve had a taste of excitement?
The hubbub and general chatter from the pubs and clubs were left behind as she made her way downhill, back toward her hotel. Her pissed-off mood was now turning into a feeling of unease as her route led her through the old alleys of the city, which weren’t so quaint in the dark.
Real Burke and Hare territory, she thought. Unlit and off the track, she could picture the infamous grave robbers and murderers lurking in the lanes. She shivered and continued her descent into the backstreets with a hastened step.
Maybe I should send Arielle a text to let her know where I am. Just in case.
She fired off a quick message, but the cold night air began to mess with her coordination, and beneath fumbling fingers, the phone clattered to the ground to disappear into the shadows beneath someone’s front gate.