Fallen Ever After Read Online Free Page A

behind me. It muffled the string of expletives that followed. Lord, how I loved that man. He’d forget what century we lived in sometimes and go all formal in his tone and choice of words. But he could be gruff, cocky, and downright blunt at other times. It was an interesting contradiction, and I always wondered what would come out of his mouth next. Better to take a shower or we would indeed fuck each other to death.
    *****
    He had to be at least six-foot-three, even without the platform Goth boots. I looked into the dark eyes of the stranger dancing with me. Before meeting Arie I never hung out in Goth clubs, but I gyrated on the dance floor to the pumping music that echoed off the converted warehouse walls while I waited to see Victoria. Arie perched on a barstool, watching with an amused look on his face was I danced with the vampire groupie.
    The smell of leather, cheap knock-off cologne, and sweat lingered in the air, intensifying my libido. I moved with the crush of bodies grinding on the dance floor, undulating with the tide as the human that I’d just met leaned into me. I could sense his desire, his dark need, and part of me considered that it was wrong to lead him on like this, wrong to let him think that I was interested in him for anything other than a feed.
    But when he’d offered to buy me a drink, Arie had nodded at me encouragingly. I thought watching me move with the guy on the dance floor turned him on—or rather, watching me hunt got him hot. Although, I couldn’t be sure exactly what Arie thought, with his expression that looked both amused and a little bored at the same time.
    “Come with me,” the human shouted above the nosebleed tempo that made conversation damn near impossible. “My table is over there.”
    The stranger’s way of speaking felt odd after being with Arie. Semi-formal, stiff speech was part of Arie’s allure. His decorous yet blunt mannerism when I first met him at the Coffee Grind drew me to him. An ancient vampire, he dressed in tasteful but casual clothing beneath a black leather jacket that helped him blend in with the Goth and punk fashions at the club. So unlike the stranger that I was following, in his black trench coat and glossy black, waist-length hair, severe white-powdered make-up and black lipstick.
    Two guys and a girl around my age sat at a table in a darkened corner. The girl glared at me as I approached them. My black cargoes slid across the faux-leather seat as I sunk into the semi-circular booth. He wrapped his arm around my waist and tugged me into his side. Her glare deepened into a frown that creased her forehead.
    “Brandon, who’s your friend?” she asked, her voice steeped with derision.
    Brandon. I remember now.
    I’d found it hard to remember names long before out-of-control hormones had run amok from becoming a vampire.
    “Holly, this is Jess.”
    The girl looked a bit familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. I winced as her open-toe shoe banged into my ankle under the table. Her toe brushed against my ankle when she drove my cargo pant up my leg as she kicked me. I was pretty damn sure she had kicked me on purpose, but I didn’t have time to consider it as the Sight took over and images spun through my mind.
    Jess was sitting at a kitchen table across from Brandon in a cramped apartment. They ate carry-out from Styrofoam containers. He slurred his words and Jess snickered. Fury etched his features before he struck her and blood spurted from her nose. She cried out, tears welling in her eyes, and then she flung a slew of curses at him.
    The images began to fade and no one at the table seemed to notice me shudder or catch the blank stare. I knew that I got this sort of blank expression whenever the Sight took over. And the passage of time seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.
    “Whatever,” she grumbled, before taking a swig from the beer bottle on the table.
    “You need to chill.”
    “I’m sick of your bullshit. It’s always the