Chapter 1
Jessie Reynolds
Darkness clung to me like a second skin as I walked the busy streets of Nashville, my footsteps echoing in the night.
It had been nearly four years since I had been turned. Four years, since Victor had claimed me as his own and thrust me into this world of shadows and solitude.
I remembered the night vividly—the sharp sting of his bite, the searing pain that tore through my veins as he drained me of my lifeblood.
I had thought I was going to die, that my last breath would be stolen from me by this creature of the night.
But instead, I had been reborn. Transformed into something neither human nor monster, something caught between the worlds of the living and the dead.
Tonight, though, I was out of the shadows and into the light. I was performing at The Stage on Broadway.
I had always dreamed of being a singer.
That dream felt hollow now, the magic dulled by the reality of my existence.
The crowd was lively as usual, their faces glowing with excitement as they anticipated a night of music and revelry.
I took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage, the spotlight momentarily blinding me as I approached the microphone.
My voice carried through the room. “Good evening, everyone!”
The crowd cheered, and I forced a smile, trying to channel the enthusiasm they were sending my way.
“Let’s start this night off with a classic. Here’s Jolene by Dolly Parton.”
As I strummed the opening chords, I was hit with a familiar pang of longing.
Singing had always been my way of connecting with people, of sharing a piece of myself with the world.
But now, that connection felt strained, like I was putting on a mask to hide the darkness that lurked beneath the surface.
My voice soared over the crowd; each note, a bittersweet reminder of the life I had lost.
After the song ended, a group of fans approached the stage, their faces lit with admiration.
One of them, a young woman with bright red hair like my own, and a wide smile requested another song. “That was amazing, Jessie! Can you sing Blue Ain’t Your Color next?”
I was grateful for the distraction. “Sure thing. Anything for you guys.”
As I moved through my setlist, singing songs like Tennessee Whiskey and Girl Crush, a strange sense of detachment enveloped me.
The applause, the cheers, the compliments, they all seemed to come from a different world, one I no longer belonged to.
Between songs, I chatted with the fans and the waitstaff, trying to maintain the façade of the carefree singer they all expected.
I took a break between sets and walked up to the side of the bar.
The bartender gave me a smile. “Great performance as always, Jessie. You really know how to keep the crowd entertained.”
I forced another smile. “Thanks. It’s what I love to do.”
But the truth was, I didn’t love it anymore. Not the way I used to.
Singing in front of humans, feeling their warmth and energy, only served to remind me of the humanity I had lost.
It was like being an outsider looking in, forever separated from the world I once knew.
After my final song, If I Die Young, I stepped off the stage, the applause still ringing in my ears.
I thanked the crowd and made my way to the back door, eager to escape the noise and the lights.
Upon leaving, I talked to the manager, Rick Barnes.
He stood there, with a wide grin and an envelope in his hand.
“Girl, you done knocked them out again. We love having you sing here.”
I looked at Rick, pretending to be embarrassed. “Thanks, Rick. I appreciate it.”
He reached out to hand me the money for tonight.
I shook my head, I wasn’t going to accept.
Rick laughed. “Let me guess?”
“Please, Rick. Give it to Gail and the girls, they’ve really earned it, tonight.”
Shaking his head, he gave me that stern look. “What about you? Don’t you think you deserve this?”
I didn’t. Besides, I wasn’t in this for the money. I had more money than I knew what to do with.
So, the best thing was to give it to the hard-working wait staff. They were the ones who earned it.
“Thanks again, Rick. I really appreciate it!”
I’d met my fare share of rotten bar owners before. However, Rick was one of the good ones.
Heading for the rear exit, I pushed open the door and was greeted by the cool night air as I stepped outside, a welcome relief from the stuffy atmosphere of the club.
The night was quiet as I walked north from Broadway and 1st Avenue, my footsteps echoing against the pavement.
The city was alive with its usual energy, but there was a different kind of hunger gnawing at me.
As I passed the famous Coyote Ugly, I paused, my eyes lingering on the entrance.
The idea of stepping inside for a “take-home meal” crossed my mind, and with a wry smile, I decided to indulge.
Predators could be found at almost any establishment throughout Nashville. Plus, we had laws in our society. Laws upheld by our master and enforced within our coven.
Violation of these laws could warrant a death sentence.
Hunting for predators made the harsh reality of our survival a little more bearable.
The thought of killing humans took me a while to overcome.
Our survival was predicated on that one natural resource we lacked.
Blood!
Walking into the club, I was greeted with the smell of sweat and alcohol. My olfactory senses were aroused with the prospect of feeding.
The dim lighting and the pulsing music created an intoxicating atmosphere, even for someone like me who couldn’t feel the effects of alcohol.
I scanned the room, my eyes settling on a man at the bar.
He was tall and muscular, with dark hair and a rugged face that spoke of confidence, and arrogance.
I made my way toward him, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.
As I approached, I could feel his eyes on me, sizing me up.
I leaned against the bar next to him, flashing a coy smile.
“Hey there,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I don’t drink.” My smile widened at the curiosity in his eyes. “But I wouldn’t mind some company.”
He grinned, clearly pleased.
He leaned in closer, his eyes glinting with interest. “So, what brings a beautiful woman like you to a place like this?”
I twirled a strand of my hair around my finger, giving him a playful smile. “Just looking for a bit of fun. You know, the usual escape from the mundane.”
His grin widened. “Well, you found the right place. The name’s Mike, by the way.”
I extended my hand. “Jessie.”
He took it, his grip firm and confident.
“And what about you, handsome?”
He chuckled. “Oh, I’m just here to unwind after a long week. But I have to say, meeting you has been the highlight of my night.”
I fluttered my eyelashes, pretending to be flattered. “You’re sweet. Do you use that line on all the girls?”
His smooth reply left his hand brushing with mine. “Only the ones who are worth it. So, tell me, Jessie, do you come here often?”
“First time, actually.” I leaned in slightly. “But I think I might start making it a habit if the company is always this charming.”
Mike’s grin widened. “I’m glad to hear that. Maybe I could show you around, sometime. Give you the full Nashville experience.”
I laughed softly, tracing the rim of his glass with my finger. “Oh, I’d like that. But how do I know you’re not just another smooth talker looking for a quick fling?”
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Well, you’ll just have to take a chance and find out, won’t you?”
I tilted my head, pretending to consider his offer. “Hmm, maybe I will. How about we start with a walk outside? The night is still young, and I could use some fresh air.”
Mike’s expression turned eager, as if he had won some unspoken game. “I’d love that. Let’s get out of here.”
I slipped off my stool, letting him lead me toward the exit.
Little did he know, he was walking straight into my world, and I was about to show him a side of Nashville he’d never forget.
Oh, this is going to be too easy.
