For weeks now, Dahlia had been trying to convince herself that she liked the vitality he gave her. Maybe she just liked the way he looked. The truth was that she liked the man, even if she hated what he was. Seeing him made butterflies erupt in her stomach, and it had been a long time since she'd experienced that.
Because sex was a fact of life. It was how she survived. Drinking blood or consuming the flesh of the living were often too dangerous, but sex was always available. That was why the eidolon talked about the act as if it was a meal, because it usually had just as little meaning to their lives. It happened, it was over, and then they moved on.
Thane was different. Mei was different, but she was undead, so that meant they had to fuck others. There was no other option. Sex with Thane, however, felt like more. It felt like surrender. It also felt like conquest. Kissing him was a rush, and as much a mental one as a physical one. He made her feel again, and few men had ever been able to do that.
Pondering that, she got up and found clothes for the day. This time, Mei got to be the temptress. Dahlia was going for more of a comfortable and practical type of attire. Jeans, a shirt, and some hiking boots that worked with the look. Cheap ones from the Dollar Store, but they'd do the job.
And since she didn't need to impress anyone, her shower last night was enough. So, while Mei worried about how smooth her legs - and other bits - were, Dahlia painted her face. It felt nice to look like a woman again. Not a slut, not a whore, but just a normal woman. Her hair went into a ponytail, and she was good to go just as Mei walked out of the bathroom.
Then they both got to work on making sure she was the beautiful minx that stole men's hearts. Dahlia couldn't help but wonder what this man would think if he knew he was spending the evening with one of the Emperor's favorite concubines. A woman who'd made a name for herself in the Forbidden City before she decided that she couldn't take it anymore and had fallen on her master's sword. Yes, she'd been wearing a red dress when it happened. That was how she made herself into a nu gui.
Then they called down to the front desk to see if they had some kind of deal with a taxi or shuttle service. Sure enough, the hotel was happy to arrange for them to have a ride to the Anatole. It didn't even cost as much as they'd expected. Just as the sun set over Dallas, Mei was sitting at the bar, sipping on a margarita, and Dahlia was at the next table over, scrolling through the news on the one phone they had.
"Keiko?" a man asked, walking up to stand beside Mei. "I'm John."
"I was waiting for you," Mei said with one of her adorable little smiles. "You have a room here, right?"
"I do," he agreed, passing her a card. "If you'd like, I can show it to you."
"I'd love that."
Leaving her drink in place, she slipped off her stool and wrapped her hand around his elbow. "John" - if that was even his real name - smiled down at her proudly, then turned her toward the elevators. Dahlia watched them leave, trying to be subtle about it, but she'd seen his face. She'd recognize him when he left. She also had a funny feeling that he would be treating Mei very, very well. He looked like the kind of man who just wanted a little personal attention, and Mei was very good at that.
Chapter Twenty-Six
DAHLIA
Time crawled. Dahlia knew it would be a few hours, and she didn't want to have the staff of this fancy hotel wondering what she was doing, so she headed up the street to the closest coffee shop. She was pretty sure they'd passed one on the ride in. Naturally, it was a Starbucks. With cash in her pocket, she headed inside, looking like every other urbanite wanting a quick fix.
Her little ponytail made her look like an average college student. The point was to blend in, but a five foot, eleven inch blonde didn't do that well. Every man in the room noticed when she entered, including the high-school kid working behind the counter. He was gawking at her before she even got in line.
And boy, was it a line. Evidently, every person in the area wanted a coffee at this specific store. For a minute, she thought about bailing, but the entire point was to waste a little time before she had to walk back to wait in the hotel's lobby. Knowing the inquisitors would be looking for her made her a little nervous, but they should still be recovering after last night. There was nothing wrong with this. It was completely normal, so she shuffled along like all the others.
Finally, she made it to the counter. "What can I get ya?" the boy asked, beaming at her.
"Two venti lattes, plain." Because she'd drink the second in the hotel lobby.
His brows raised a bit at the simple order, but he bobbed his head enthusiastically. When she passed over the dead man's rewards card to pay, he didn't bat an eye. He did, however, ask for her name - for the order, of course.
"Dahlia."
"That's a beautiful name," the kid gushed.
She nodded, pasting on a plastic smile, then moved to find a chair. This was going to take a while, and that boy was certainly not over eighteen. She had a strict rule about corrupting children. In her lifetime, he would've been considered a man long ago, but the world had changed. Now, he had the luxury to enjoy life, and she wasn't about to ruin it. Not after kissing Laird like that and ruining his first kiss. Let this boy dream. It was safer that way.
One by one, she watched the orders get called and passed to their rightful owner. Most were single people getting a single paper cup. A few had more impressive orders, probably taking something home to friends or family, or maybe heading back to the office for a late shift. She tried to remember where the people had been in relation to her in line, but she hadn't stopped to look at any of their faces. Instead, she let one leg bounce, the motion doing nothing to make the clock move any faster.
Behind her, the door opened. On her other side, a pair of women gestured, pleased smiles on their faces. Dahlia turned, expecting to see some cute professional, and paused. He was cute and a professional of sorts, but that was the last face she wanted to see. Quickly turning her head to the table, praying he wouldn't notice her, Dahlia cursed herself for a fool. The man who'd just walked in was Thane.
How had he found her? Did he even realize she was here? From the corner of her vision, she tracked his movements, waiting for him to get far enough away from the door so she could make a run for it.
Just like the night before, he wore jeans and a dark t-shirt. This time, however, she could see the warded tattoo on his forearm clearly, along with the bulges at his waist that were from those damned stakes. Nothing about him looked out of place. The man behind him, however, fit the mold for a priest. Tall, fit, and conservative, his black clothing looked like a priest off the clock. All he was missing was the white collar. Unfortunately, it wasn't Laird.
"Dahlia!"
Her whole body twitched as the barista called her name. Why hadn't she used a more-fake fake one? Why did her coffee have to be ready now? How could her luck get any worse?
"Dahlia?" the barista called again.