“Yes, of course.”
I sighed. “Good. I have so many questions, I need to—”
He waved his hand. “All in good time. Are you ready for the tour?”
I stared at him for a moment. “Um. Okay, I guess.”
He grinned, hurried over to the right, and opened one of the white doors into a room with a toilet, a sink, three lockers, and a wooden bench.
“The changing room,” Barry announced.
“Ah.”
He closed the door and moved to the other. Inside were two tanning beds, currently not in use. A dirty towel had been rolled up and discarded in a corner. Another potted palm tree sat near the door.
“The tanning room.” He made a presentational flourish with his arm, as if he were showing me something very impressive. “Employees tan for free.”
“Vampires tan?” I said with a frown. “But I thought—”
He waved me off again. “Please do not interrupt.” Barry Jordan was quickly outstaying his welcome as tour director in my book. He clicked the door closed and breezed past me on the way to the last door. I held up a hand to stop him.
“Listen, I don’t want to waste any more of your time. I’m really not all that interested in the inner workings of a tanning salon. No offense.”
“But you’ll want to see this. I’m sure you will.” He looked extremely disappointed; even his bow tie seemed to wilt a little bit.
I sighed with impatience. “All right, then. Go ahead.”
He nodded, straightened his tie, and reached forward to open the door. A wave of voices, loud music, smoke, and darkness seemed to rush into the reception area, and my mouth dropped open at what I saw inside.
“This is the real Midnight Eclipse,” Barry said proudly. “Vampires only.”
I blinked in disbelief. Of all the things I’d expected to see behind that last door, this wasn’t it. But I suppose it made perfect sense. A nightclub for vampires. Somewhere to relax and unwind after a hard day of avoiding the sunlight and pointy wooden objects. After a moment my eyes adjusted to the dimness. A long, black-lacquered bar hugged the wall to the left. Booths and tables flaunted sexy crimson tablecloths and small, glowing lamps. At the far side there was a stage, where, over the murmured conversations of the crowded club, a beautiful, raven-haired Bertie Page look-alike was singing a throaty rendition of “Fever.”
“Have you ever waited tables before?” Barry asked.
“In college,” I said, my voice barely audible. “But I’m sure it’ll come back to me.”
“Good.”
I shut my gaping mouth. “Wait a minute. Forget I said that. I don’t want to work here.”
“I thought you were here for a job interview.”
“No. I need to talk to Thierry.”
“Thierry?” Barry sounded shocked. “You mean the master.”
“The master?”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Without respect. The master is to be respected.”
I glanced back into the club. A few eyes were now on me. Curious gazes from the gathered vampires. It was funny, because if I hadn’t been told they were all creatures of the night, I’d never have guessed it. They looked perfectly normal to me. Not Goth, anyhow. Not one pasty face or black Marilyn Manson outfit to be seen.
Barry took a deep breath and a smile blossomed on his face again. “You’re new. He mentioned that you were without a sire, so any missteps are to be expected, of course.”
“Missteps?” My patience was waning. “Look, Tuxedo Boy, is Thierry here or not?”
The smile slipped from his face again and his eyes flashed angrily at me. Yikes. I didn’t want to make him pop a blood vessel or anything.
“Barry,” a smooth, deep voice said to my left. “It’s all right. Please leave Miss Dearly to me.”
The sound of his voice coursed down my spine like the feel of your first shot of tequila on frosh night. Shocking and unexpected, but not entirely unpleasant.
I turned, already knowing who it was.
The master.
He looked different than he had last night. More put-together. Less suicidal. His dark, almost-black hair was brushed off his face. He had high cheekbones, a straight nose, and a square jawline showing a small amount of fashionable stubble. His full lips were unsmiling, of course, and gray eyes that seemed almost silver watched me as if I were the only person in the room.
He, unlike the others in the club, was dressed all in black. He wore a button-down silk shirt that was open at the neck, black jacket, and black dress pants. The darkness made his face look even paler, but it wasn’t unattractive and pasty. It was as if he glowed with power. An inner energy that made me tingle right down to my toes.
Yowza.
“Sarah,” he said. “I was not certain that you’d come.”
I forced a smile. “And yet, here I am.”
Barry made a sound and I grimaced. He probably wanted me to bow before the master, or something. As if that were going to happen. Thierry’s gaze moved to the tiny man. “Be so kind as to fetch Miss Dearly and myself something to drink.”
Barry bowed, the little brownnoser that he was. Then he backed away and headed toward the bar. Thierry gently took me by my elbow and steered me over toward a booth.
“Please sit,” he said.
I sat.
He took a seat across from me and met my eyes. “I imagine this is all quite overwhelming for you.”
“You could say that.” I leaned back and tried to look as comfortable as possible, given the situation. “I thought this was supposed to be a tanning salon.”
He raised a dark eyebrow. “It is. But as you can see, it is also much more than that. The previous owner believed it to be an ironic joke. A vampire club behind the facade of a tanning salon.”
“Funny.”