Vampires Never Cry Wolf

By: Sara Humphreys

Anger shimmied up Sadie’s back and now she really wanted to smack the smug, satisfied look off Killian’s face. A million different responses ran through her head, but she was so angry she could barely see straight…angry and embarrassed. Why hadn’t Olivia told her about this? And why, oh for the love of all that was holy, why had she assumed that he wanted her?

What. A. Dummy.

“Why?” He cocked his head to the side and his lips tilted. “What did you think I was talking about?”

“Nothing.” Sadie wrestled to compose herself and plastered a smile on her face. Before leaving, she said, “Trixie will be over with the bottle of Cristal shortly.”

“So you do know what I want?” Killian asked with more than a little innuendo. Sadie’s face heated with embarrassment. He saw right through her, which was more than a little annoying. “You just might be the woman of my dreams. Well, except for the vampire part.” He sighed and looked her up and down. “Unfortunately, that’s a deal breaker.”

“Yeah,” Sadie snorted. “A real bummer. And for the record, Your Highness, vampires don’t dream.”

“Really?” Killian’s brow flew up in surprise before his gaze slid over her in one slow, lazy stroke. “Now, that’s a damn shame.”

“Yes,” Sadie said sarcastically. “It’s a real tragedy. Right up there with world hunger.”

“Nah. It’s just that I’ve had some lovely dreams.” His eyes twinkled at her mischievously. “You give me a drink menu every time I show up just to make me think you don’t know what I want. Don’t you?”

“I just want to be sure you have plenty of options.” She scooped up the drink menus, and keeping her voice even, she murmured, “And I assure you I’m well aware of what you’re after, Mr. Bane.”

Without another word, and with Killian Bane’s stare drilling a hole in her back, Sadie strode to the bar. As she cut through the crowd, one voice stood out amid the cavalcade of sounds. “I’m counting on it.”

Chapter 2

The club was finally empty and quiet, except for the familiar sounds of cleanup—bottles clanking, chairs scraping across the wooden floor, and the playful banter of her friends while they closed the place. Sitting at the end of the bar and tallying the night’s receipts, Sadie tried to keep her cool. Everything was going to be fine.

She swore and slammed the pen onto the bar.

Like hell it was. She’d been fuming all night after what Killian told her.

The son of a bitch was opening a competing club here in Manhattan, and when he said it, he acted like he’d just given her a diamond ring or something. Not only that, but he had the audacity to all but come right out and tell her that he was going to steal her crowd-attracting DJ. She’d even caught him up there talking to Justine right before he and his pack left for the night. Why on earth would he think she’d find that even remotely amusing?

Because he’s an arrogant alpha werewolf, that’s why.

Annoyed and lost in her thoughts, it took a minute for Sadie to realize that Justine was calling her from the DJ platform.

“Boss!” she shouted for what was probably the fifth time. “Yo, Sadie.”

“What?” Sadie whipped her head over her shoulder and forced herself to smile. The look on Justine’s face instantly made her feel shitty. She’d barked at the poor girl. “Sorry.” Sadie laughed and shook her head. Placing the calculator on the bar with the receipts, she shifted her position on the bar stool. “I guess I was concentrating too hard on these numbers.”

“Yeah, right,” Trixie said with a snort of laughter. Drying glasses behind the bar, she shot a knowing look at Sadie. “You were concentrating, but it sure as hell wasn’t on those receipts. I’d bet my money on a six-foot hunky wolf.”

“What’s up, Justine?” Sadie cast a narrow-eyed look at Trixie.

“There’s somethin’ I should tell ya ’bout,” she said with her thick cockney accent. Justine flew down from the DJ platform and landed quietly on the center of the empty dance floor. Smoothing the spikes of her colorful, long hair in a nervous gesture, she strolled over to the bar before pulling up a stool and sitting next to Sadie. “It’s ’bout our furry friends.”

“Okay,” Sadie said slowly, a nagging sense of dread creeping up her back. “What about them?”

“Let me guess.” Trixie tossed the dishrag over her shoulder and leaned on the bar. “That big blond one has the hots for you.”

“Trixie,” Sadie said warningly as Justine shifted nervously on the stool. “Why don’t you go get Damien? Have him help you replenish the stock behind the bar.”

Sadie had barely finished her sentence when Damien, the club’s bouncer and one of the newest coven members, came in through the front doors of the club. He threw the bolts on the inside of the massive wooden doors and cast his big pearly white grin in their direction.

“Did someone mention my name?” he called in his typically playful baritone and strolled into the club. He placed the velvet rope and brass stand by the wall and waved to them. Dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans that covered his tall, sturdy frame, the guy reminded Sadie of a big teddy bear.

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