Into The Red by Kelly Whitley

Evan shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and mentally prepared to become the prey. Instinct said to run. Honor insisted he stay.

His worn motorcycle boots crunched across the gravel of the parking lot. The night smelled of grilled steak, alcohol, and coming rain. The bar was a punishment, not a reward. He craved solitude, not beer. Not companionship. Especially not female companionship.

Once again, he’d lost to Gage in the sparring ring, and the winner got to choose the bar.

Evan pulled open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside Vista. The dull black tops of the bar and the tables ate a helping of the ambient light, but he had no trouble seeing the large number of female patrons.

The place rocked tonight—music pumping, liquor flowing.

Sex in the air.

As usual, good scenery abounded. Lots of young lovelies, looking to meet the man of their dreams.

Some human, some not.

In turn, the guys in the bar checked out the females.

Some human, some not.

He grabbed a tall table near the bar and steeled himself for attack. Right away, the first predator sauntered up. A human waitress.

She made no attempt to hide her inspection. “Hi there, tall, dark, and handsome. What can I get you?”

Privacy. Blood. “Beer. Whatever you’ve got in a bottle.”

“Bud Select okay?”

“Yep.”

“You have the most gorgeous blue eyes,” she said.

Here we go. “Thanks. My beer?”

“On the way.” The woman smiled, an invitation clear in her light brown eyes. After waiting a couple of moments for a response, she turned for the bar.

Evan grimaced as he got a whiff of her attraction. He hadn’t accepted this kind of offer for a lifetime. A second lifetime, anyway. Gage better hurry the hell up, or he could damn well have his scotch on the rocks alone.

Two women at the opposite end of the bar whispered to each other and sneaked glances at him. Estrogen-induced lust wafted over. He sighed and drummed his fingers on the table.

Gage always showed up late. Intentionally late. He wanted Evan to sit here alone, give the females a chance to get their hooks in him, as if he represented a trophy for the taking.

Three women came through the door, laughing and talking until they glanced his way. As a unit, they angled their approach in his direction.

Enough of this. He’d—

A cocktail napkin dropped onto the table in front of him. The trio diverted toward a table in the corner while the waitress set down his beer. Her gaze traveled his face and landed on his lips.

“Can I get you anything else?”

An excuse to leave. “Nope. That’s it.”

He gave her a little mental shove, planted the suggestion he made her uncomfortable. In the low light, no one noticed her expression blanking out for a moment. Good. Her smile dropped and she walked off, a little unsteady from the push to her frontal cortex.

Evan took a draw, then peeled a strip off the label of his beer bottle. The door swung open to admit Gage. He stopped at the bar to order a drink, and then strolled over to the table.

“Took you long enough.” Evan took a swig of his beer.

“Unavoidably delayed.”

Gage turned to accept his scotch on the rocks from the waitress, and she left. Somehow, vampires and humans alike always knew Gage was off limits.

He gazed at Evan. “So. Any prospects?”

Evan tore another piece off the label, adding it to the pile in front of him. “No, and I’m not interested.”

“You need to do this.” Gage surveyed the scene around them. He tipped his glass in the direction of the three women throwing Evan come hither glances from their corner table. “Talk to one of them.”

Not again, for Chrissakes. The man couldn’t let it rest. Evan huffed out a breath before sucking down half his beer. “Not interested. New subject.”

Gage eyed him over the rim of his glass. The gray glare burned, even in the semi-darkness of the bar. “You know, it’s a real pisscutter to be out drinking with you.”

Yeah, the harassment did ruin the mood. “Then why are we here?”

“Because I only have a limited amount of time available to give you a beat-down in the ring. You need a female.”

“I don’t want ‘a female’.” None of these women, human or vampire, held any appeal.

Gage leaned in. “Look. We’ve been tight a long time. Took out a shitload of Poisoners before deactivation. Brothers in arms, brothers still.”

Evan nodded. They were brothers, united not by blood, but by a common purpose. The Alliance, the organization governing their race, had paired them as a team of fighters in the Purgers. They’d hunted down and eliminated Poisoners: the vampires who abused the highly addictive, lethal, and strictly forbidden substance known as Red—human blood. The friendship lasted, even after The Alliance put them on inactive status over twenty years ago.

Now Gage was in a committed relationship. Evan was committed to being alone.

Gage let out a deep breath. “As your brother, I’m telling you. You can’t keep up this all-by-myself shit.”

Evan pinched the bridge of his nose and bit back the first response that came to mind. Just Gage and the usual hassle. No big deal. He met his companion’s gaze. “Then let me reassure you, my brother. I’m fine alone.”

Gage tipped back his glass and swallowed most of his drink. “Alone isn’t fine. Been too long already.”

Evan groaned and drained the rest of his beer.

Gage always worked around to this, and Evan had heard it all—the rhetoric and the reasoning. Words were unnecessary. He had it memorized.

The Alliance strongly encouraged all males to take mates for the good of the race. Vampire mates. The government did not consider these pairings optional, especially in their retired warriors. Mates directed excess male aggression into protecting a female and perpetuating the race.

Yeah, unmated males sometimes became loners, isolating themselves from vampire society as Rogues. Some of these turned Poisoner by feeding on humans, leaving a trail of bodies while they violated the race’s most fundamental law. And that law was strictly enforced.

Offenders paid with their lives.

The Alliance definitely viewed alone as dangerous.

But mated had its own risks.

Time to redirect the conversation. Evan raised his empty bottle and caught the attention of their waitress. “You want another one?”

“Nope. Need to get home before Mia locks me out of the house.” Gage stood and tossed back the last of his scotch. He rolled his shoulders beneath his motorcycle jacket, turning his head from side to side and cracking his neck. Evan veiled a smile of satisfaction. He’d given as good as he got in the sparring ring tonight.

“Check out the blonde in the corner.” Gage raised an eyebrow. “She looks interested.”

Without a word, the waitress traded out the empty longneck for a fresh one. As she reached for Gage’s glass, he held his palm over the rim and shook his head. Evan glanced at the blonde, and then shot the other vampire a cynical look, waiting until they were alone again.

“You think any female will do?”

“At least get laid. It doesn’t have to be true love.”

Evan’s eyes narrowed while he sipped his beer. Gage could be a real pain in the ass, and he’d been on a tear about females of late, more than usual. Evan took a long pull from the beer and thunked the bottle down, and then slid a twenty underneath.

“Think I’ll go now.”

Gage glared. “You need to stay. Talk to the blonde.”

“Leave it alone. It’s my life.”

“Then fix it. I don’t want to be the one to hunt you down some day,” Gage growled.

“Alone doesn’t mean Rogue.”

The violence in Gage’s stare belied his calm tone. “Get a girl, Evan. The Alliance is only going to wait so long, then you won’t have a choice. Someone a hell of a lot more persuasive than me will take over convincing you.”

As they faced off, Evan caught sight of the blonde vampire. She adjusted her pale blue dress and broke away from her group, a smile on her face as she made her way toward their table.

Evan shot a scowl her way.

The girl glanced from Evan to Gage and dropped the smile, retreating to the safety of her friends.

The gray gaze flicked back to Evan. “You’re mated to a goddamn memory.”

Now that was over the line. Evan pushed off his stool. “I’m gone.”

“Don’t walk away, damn it.”

If he didn’t get out now, their talk was going to get physical. Evan headed for the entrance and shoved outside. Five seconds later a wedge of light broke across the parking lot, and the sounds and scents of the bar poured into the night.

“Evan.”

“Not in the mood. Going home.” Evan pulled out the keys to his truck and kept walking. A hand closed on his arm and jerked him around. The burnt metal smell of Gage’s anger assaulted him.

“The Alliance wants you mated.” Gage jabbed a finger at him.

Aggression flooded Evan’s veins with adrenaline, kicked up his heart rate. Christ. This was his best friend, and the venue wasn’t private.

Evan stepped in close. “Yeah? Maybe, maybe not.”

“No maybe. The Purgers is like the priesthood. When you’re fighting, they figure you get your rocks off that way, take a female whenever you want to. Don’t need a mate. When you’re out, they want you mated.”

“Then I guess I’ll be the first retired Purger who left the priesthood to be a monk in the private sector.”

“They’re going to force you.”

“They’re not. I can research the gene, spend more time as a physician this way.”

“Fuck that. You think you’re the first doctor to come out of the Purgers? They own you.

They say female, you do it.”

“No female.” Evan skewered Gage with a glare. “Back off.”

“I can’t back off,” Gage said through clenched teeth. “The Alliance has delegated me the job of getting you mated. Thanks a whole hell of a lot.”

Evan planted his hands on his hips and jacked his head back. The testosterone-fueled aggression dissipated like smoke.

A government order to find him a mate. That explained the nonstop nagging. Gage had tried to make the decision a choice instead of an edict. The man was bound by law to carry out the order. The Alliance could have sent someone official, forced an unknown female on him, but instead they’d used Evan’s best friend, knowing he’d have to act.

What could he say? “Shit. I didn’t—”

“Right. You didn’t. Think about it. We’re both in it now.” Gage turned on his heel and disappeared in the darkness, no doubt to execute the pureblood trick of dematerializing home.

A female. The only part left was whether it was his choice or theirs. An acid burn set up shop in his stomach. Evan fisted his keys and headed for the truck.

Shit.