Page 30 of Collected By the Crow

“Oh?”

“Vampire venom is an interesting compound. It has healing agents, painkillers, antibodies, and aphrodisiacs, but it only releases what it deems necessary, depending on what’s in the blood it’s fed. Most animals don’t respond well and it doesn’t take root, or they receive too much painkiller to survive.”

“But humans are different?”

“It’s biological. During a Turning, the venom dispenses a series of all the different agents.” His insides rebelled, trying to drown the words he dredged from their depths. She was watching him now, her hand hovering above the table. “We found that the most powerful, experienced vampires could influence their venom on humans, bypassing the agents that made their prey’s death quick and painless. The venom would then be stored in their fangs, essentially hoarded for their own use on each other. Perfect for orgies and celebrations.” He sneered, his voice little more than a growl. “My colleague and I opted not to tell Dracula VI what we’d found. She paid with her life.” A braver man would’ve endured her gaze as he aired his dirty skeletons. “As far as accepting a Turning, it has to do with the similarity in our biologies.”

He made a half-hearted play. The room was so silent, even her human ears might’ve heard the breath caught in his lungs. He watched her flip a tile with a starburst of color. A few more moves were made before he mustered the courage to look at her. There was nothing in her expression that hinted at whether she would accept further courtship or ice him out.

“I don’t think less of you, if that’s what you’re wondering.” She proffered an empathetic smile. “Sounds like that bastard got what was coming to him. Although, at a high cost at your expense.”

“Indeed.”

The rest of the day and some of the night was spent over games, with trips to the lab. Cassandra’s music filled the silence when they weren’t speaking.

Hours later, deep into the night, Cassandra started yawning. The long days and nights were taxing her. She carried way too much. He excused himself to the lab and pretended to be busy until her pulse slowed. When he returned, she was snoozing in the chair. He watched the rise and fall of her belly. The soft sounds escaping her lips were so exquisite, he wanted to drink them down. Her lowered heart rate reduced the scent of her blood, but it was still there, a calm and peaceful rippling that beckoned him closer, begging to be inside him, to fill his throat.

He carefully bundled her into his upper arms, using his lowers to scoop Zero under his armpit. The big pup licked his hand.

Now Dr. Billing knew his tormented past. Would she feel differently when she woke?

He tucked her under the covers. Her body curled around itself and she slipped a hand under the pillow. He placed Zero at the end of the bed, where he padded in a circle and lay down. Cassandra’s foot burrowed under the dog’s warmth. How nice it must be to have such kinship. He called the crows his family, but they were transient, and he couldn’t begin to guess if they loved him or merely tolerated him.

A stray lock of feather-black hair drifted down her cheek toward the slope of her open mouth. He fixated on the concave curve of her lip. Without thinking, he smoothed the lock back in place, swiping his thumb over that elegant line.

He placed the ornate hair accessory on the nightstand beside her cellular device, then tore himself from her bedside and returned to the lab. The mutated strain was worse than he’d calculated. All but one of the tests was a failure, the final one still hanging in there. He duplicated it for more controls and tests.

For the rest of the night, he played the guitar, searching for the right song to serenade her with once he was competent on the instrument.

The more memories he collected with her, the harder it became to accept she would leave soon. It was a matter of time before they either failed or succeeded, and both meant she would leave his life, forever.

Chapter Seventeen

Cassandra

Cass awoke in the insanely large bed. Her phone read 8:00 a.m. She must’ve passed out, which meant he’d brought her to bed. She glanced at the bottom of the mattress, where Zero’s warm lump hogged the blanket. Had Qadaire carried them both?

Of course he had. He was gentle and caring, and so insanely sweet. It was impossible, the way he was sex incarnate one moment and a nerdy sweetheart the next.

At some point during the night, she’d maneuvered the extra pillow between her knees. Why she hadn’t brought her knee pillow in the first place was beyond her. Her mind filled with images of Q’s knowing smile as he sent magic dancing on her hand. The hunger in his granite gaze. The feverish way he ate her pussy as though it were full of liquid gold. She squeezed her eyes shut and jerked her hips, picturing the way he’d humped the shit out of the bench. She pictured him doing that between her legs.

Let go. It’s only me and you.Let go.

She fisted the sheets, imagining his soft feathers between her fingers. His thumb somehow vibrating against her clit. She squeezed the pillow between her thighs, curling her legs. With a soft moan, she reached down to stroke her swollen clit. The memory of Qadaire bringing his slick-covered fingers to his mouth, sucking them dry like a man starved, made her toes curl. She straightened her arm and rode the fuck out of her fingers and the pillow until she caught her release.

It was nothing like when she was with him, but it was enough to dull the hollow ache inside her chest.

Cass hummed to herself as she rose with a stretch, a little smile resting easily on her face. She glanced at Zero’s sleeping form and that smile dissipated.

She scratched behind his ears until he opened droopy eyes, his tail twitching but not wagging.

“You’re not feeling so good, are you, buddy?” Tears pricked as the words tumbled out. “I need to hurry up, don’t I?”

She rose and checked her phone. Beside it was a gorgeous, expensive-looking hair piece. She ran her fingers over the studded jewels, all shiny and freshly polished. He’d left it for her. A splotch of numbness in her heart thawed. Not only was he monstrously attractive, but he was as precious as the stones set in the metal.

She took a shower and got dressed. She left her hair down and slid the pretty accessory in. Zero remained on the end of the bed, unmoved. She picked him up—holy shit, how did Qadaire make it look so easy?—and carried him all the way down to a chair in the lab.

Qadaire turned toward her, and her heart sank right down to her gut. She threw her hair up in a sloppy bun, her hands snagging on his gift, and rolled up her sleeves.

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