Taken by the Beast (The Conduit Series Book 1) by Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley Read Free Book Online

didn’t make any sense. As far as I knew, I was the only person in the club. Abram must have left a CD playing. I pressed my ear against the door to get a better listen as the song continued.
    It was … hmmm … I had to be hearing that wrong. It sounded like it was whispering my name.
    I bristled and pulled my head away.
    “Hello?” I rested just my palms against the door now. “Hello? Is someone—”
    The door flared with heat, and I jerked backward as the metal burned my hands.
    What the hell!
    The song got louder, whispering my name over and over again.
    “Real funny, Abram!” I said, hoping that it was a joke. I knew better, though. Abram wasn’t the joking type. And besides which, he wasn’t even here.
    A knock on the door startled me so much that I shuddered.
    “Charisse,” a voice sounded from the alleyway outside, and I jumped again, then caught my breath.
    Get a hold of yourself, girl! It’s just the bartender.
    I flipped open my phone and checked the time. Almost seven. The club would open in just over an hour. I needed to get back to work.
    I gave the weird door one last look before sprinting down the hall to let the bartender in. She stood waiting for me with a big smile on her face, dry to the bone and not a puddle in sight.
    ***
    An hour later, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I didn’t see New Haven as the sort of place to have much of a market for a night club. A bar, sure. A backwoods pool hall, definitely. But the sort of quasi-refined establishment I had in mind, not so much.
    As such, I didn’t allow myself to entertain the possibility of The Castle filling up. Half-full would be a good night, I told myself. So you can imagine my surprise when not only did the place fill to capacity, but a line formed outside the door.
    I guess the bouncer won’t be so bored after all.
    Things moved quickly after that, and despite myself, a sense of pride started to build inside of me.
I
had done this. This place was popular, in part, because of all the hard work I had put into it in the last few weeks.
    It sure as hell wasn’t Abram’s doing.
    I thought about calling him. After all, it was his pockets that the thirsty crowd was lining tonight. And despite how infuriated I was with him, I wanted to make sure he was okay. And what was more, I kind of just wanted to talk to him.
    No, that can’t be right.
    My specific role changed a bit as the night progressed. I hadn’t really expected the influx of people, and Abram’s wallet hadn’t exactly been open during all of our planning, so I had hired accordingly. In other words, we were wildly understaffed. So as the hours passed, I went from proud manager, to equally proud hostess, all the way to down to haggard (but still proud) waitress.
    I had just spilled three vodka tonics all over my white blouse when I heard the first words in hours that weren’t commands or drink orders.
    “Lulu, I thought you said she ran the place,” came a familiar voice. “From here she just looks like a barmaid who’s showing too much cleavage.”
    I quickly found the source. Ester sat at a nearby table beside Lulu, eyeing me up and down like a cat staring at a goldfish she deemed too small to worry about.
    God, why couldn’t it have been a drink order?
    “Char, your shirt …” Lulu mumbled, her gaze landing on me. There was a soda water in her hand, and the look on her face was a mix of shock and discomfort.
    “I know,” I said. “It’s ruined.” I bent down and picked up the spilled glasses. “And it was Prada,” I said, cutting my eyes over to Ester. “Very expensive.”
    “Well, now it’s see through,” Ester announced, grinning and taking a sip of her drink. Looking back at Lulu, she muttered, “I told you she wasn’t wearing a bra.”
    Of course I wasn’t wearing a bra. Bras weren’t exactly designed for open-backed tops. But how would
she
know?
    I followed her gaze down to my breasts only to find that the vodka tonics had bled