Shades was the fanciest bar, restaurant, and club in Chester. It oozed decadence and sophistication, which made it a prime spot for occult hobbyists, mistresses, and vampires. Maybe the occasional couple on their anniversary.
Ava stared at her reflection, admiring the intricate black velvet appliqué set over the crimson red fabric, which contrasted against her pale, long legs—made twice as long by her black, chunky, velvet heels. She ran her fingers over the black tourmaline bracelet Ember had given her last October when she’d helped her exorcise a murderous witch’s spirit. Good times.
Mal stood in the doorway of her room dressed in a matching ensemble. His vermilion button-down set against his black dress pants was understated, yet sophisticated. His brown hair glistened with a natural shine and his freshly-shaven face made him look more like a dapper businessman than a vampire slayer.
“Ready for a fun evening?” He smiled.
“Can we get something to eat first? I hate to kill on an empty stomach.” She turned toward him.
Mal nodded in response. “I hear Shades serves a mean filet.”
He waited as she grabbed her clutch and approached him. “I’m shocked you’d be willing to buy me such an expensive dinner.” She took her brother’s arm as he offered it.
“I said we could eat. I didn’t say I was footing the bill.” He worked his eyebrows into a soft, endearing expression.
Ava rolled her eyes. “No wonder you can’t find a girlfriend. Fucking cheapskate.”
“No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend. Fucking attitude.”
Ava couldn’t help but let out a laugh. It really was great to have her brother back home.
***
The violet lights, which shone above the large letters that spelled Shades, were overkill in her opinion. The red carpet, the velvet banister, and the glass doors manned by the concierge all added to the allure of the place, but also made it stick out like a sore thumb. She sat, legs crossed, on the trunk of the Impala watching as Mal blew smoke into the air.
“Hurry up and finish your cigarette. I’m hungry.” She pouted.
“Don’t rush me.” He took another drag before throwing his cigarette on the pavement and stamping it out. He straightened the cuffs of his shirt. “So what have you been up to in my absence?”
Ava jumped down from her seat. “Not much. Helped a friend exorcise a murderous spirit. Had a couple of drinks. Finally got to go to the Renaissance Festival.” Her eyes lit up at the last remark.
“You’re such a nerd,” Mal said as he escorted her to the entrance.
“Says the man who adopted his last name from a TV show.”
“Hey, Malcolm Reynolds was a certified badass. Plus, I hate how Malcolm Michaels sounds. It’s too...fancy. And I’m not about to change my name back to Crowley—not after our parents worked so hard to distance themselves from the rest of the family.” He shot Ava a disapproving look.
“Name?” The concierge was dressed in a black shirt with a white vest and his perfectly edged goatee made him look like a skinny penguin. Ava stifled a laugh.
“Malcolm Reynolds, reservation for two.” Mal’s eyes surveyed the area as the concierge checked his list.
“Alright. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Reynolds.” The concierge smiled as a large, burly man opened the door for them.
Inside, the low-lit amber fan lights on the wall illuminated the ongoing red carpet. The sound of piano music filled the air and the smell of garlic butter made Ava’s mouth water.
They came to a stop at the hostess desk and a slender, tanned blonde looked at her with surprise. “Hey, I know you!”
Ava’s blood chilled as she remembered Brittani with an ‘i’ from the bachelorette party she and Ember worked last October. That was the night Ember found out she and the unconventional man of her dreams were possessed. She responded through her teeth, “Brittani...”
“So nice to see you.” Brittani flashed the fakest smile Ava had ever seen. She noticed Mal’s flirtatious gaze and her stomach roiled.
“We have a reservation for Malcolm Reynolds.” Ava attempted to smile politely, hoping to avoid further discussion. How many obstacles must she face before she could get some decent food?
“Oh my god, like Firefly!” Brittani giggled.
Ava did not peg her for a sci-fi fan. Mal seemed rather intrigued. “Yes, he gets that all the time.” She twisted her mouth into an annoyed pucker.
“You’ll have to excuse my sister, she is adopted.” Mal smiled deviously at Brittani.
She fell for it hook, line, and sinker.
“Right this way, Captain.” She smiled with a wink and stuck out her tongue. Ava hated that. She didn’t understand why women thought it was sexy and why men ate it up like candy. They followed Brittani to the dining room, which, in the low light, looked romantic and classy, but Ava knew what it looked like in the light. Cheap, old, and out of touch.
As they walked past round tables draped in white tablecloths, Ava felt a brush of energy prickling her skin; it made her hair stand on edge and a familiar scar buzzed with heated vibration.
Vampires.
She cast a look over her shoulder nonchalantly and her gaze fell upon a table of six astonishingly beautiful vamps. One of the men caught her gaze, looking up at her with fierce dark eyes, and a small smile showed just a hint of fangs as he licked his lips.
If they weren’t so public, she would have staked him right there, Brittani or no Brittani.
Brittani finally stopped at an open table and gestured for them to sit.
“Your server will be right with you.” She bit her lip and batted her eyelashes at Mal.
Ava rolled her eyes in disgust once again. “Thank you, Brittani.” She sighed and Brittani scampered off.
“Your taste in women is appalling, you know that.” Ava threw her clutch at Mal’s gut.
“Least I like them alive.” Mal shrugged as he picked up a menu.
Ava scowled. “Please. That woman is most likely ninety percent filler and ten percent silicone.” Ava picked up her menu.
“Saw you made out the table of vamps. One seemed pretty interested in you.”
“Well, we have Cas to thank for that convenience,” she retorted.
“So what’s the plan? You want me to lure him to the bathroom with the promise of getting in my neck?”
She looked at Mal from behind her menu, her eyebrow raised in question; her tone was sardonic and dry.
Mal laughed. “Probably easier to go out the back. Less crowded. But let’s get you fed first. You work better when you’re full.” He set his menu down and Ava followed suit.
She looked around the room, observing the guests in their varied states of interaction. A couple in the corner was taking selfies together, another by the stage toasted with wine glasses, and a group of girls opposite them were on their third round of martinis by the look of it.
She let her gaze shift back to the table of vamps, which boasted three beautiful men and three gorgeous women; all of them put Brittani to shame. The vamp with the death wish looked her way again, clearly thinking he had piqued her interest. How very wrong he was.
This would be like shooting fish in a barrel, she thought to herself.
Chapter Seven