Page 20 of Tempting the Dhampir

My grin is soft as I reminisce on my time spent at Alberad with the guys. “The boarding school we went to was a bit, dare I say… snobby? However, it afforded us a unique privilege—we got to be surrounded by fellow monsters from across the world. Each monster brings with them their own culture and language, on top of their individual supernatural species. This has resulted in a mélange of vocabulary and speaking styles, catalyzing the elves to teach us ‘fancy’ English and manners.” I shrug good-naturedly. “Now, we all sound like pretentious assholes with semineutral accents, hints of each person’s country peeking through at times.”

“Wow. That must be a fun—and challenging—environment to grow up in,” Sadie says thoughtfully.

“It was. How about you? Where do you call home?”

“Kentucky, born and bred. I’m an elementary school teacher there. What do you do?”

Not sure how much to tell her at this stage, I go with a vague answer. “I work at a hotel in Las Vegas. Ever been?”

“Not yet,” Sadie purrs, giving me a look filled with trouble. Just as quickly, the expression is gone, and she pats me on the leg. “Well, it’s been quite a day. I think it’s better if I’m off to bed now.”

“Let me show you the way,” I offer.

We both stand and walk in comfortable silence as I guide her toward the east wing. When we get to the room she’s sharing with Florence, I find it difficult to say goodbye.

Remaining silent, Sadie gives me a small wave, then raps her knuckles against the door and pushes inside.

I take a last deep breath in to catch the lingering traces of her scent, closing my eyes as my olfactory receptors store the heady fragrance that is all Sadie.

Once I’m able to get my feet to move again, I hurry to my own room and pick the softest T-shirt I own—a black Loro Piana silk and cotton blend. I know it’ll be big enough for her that she could wear it like a dress. The image my mind conjures of her wearing nothing but my shirt is utterly titillating. I’ve been painfully aware all night that she was not wearing a bra. I hope to catch a glimpse of her in that shirt in the morning, nipples pebbling against the material as the cool morning air kisses her skin.

But not wanting to come across as a total perv right off the bat, I dig out my cashmere Brunello Cucinelli sweatpants. They should be comfortable, and the drawstring will be able to tighten around her tapered waist. The fine picture her delectable ass will make in that soft charcoal… It might just be better for me not to see. I don’t know if I could resist trying to take a bite.

I drop off the clothes with Daehan and head to the library to help Bertie with his research.

We have all been affected by tonight’s events. There’s definitely some kind of undercurrent of attraction between the males and the women. It’s practically palpable if you pay attention to the signs. I feel like it’s only a matter of time before things escalate between the other pairs and they join me and Sadie in the magnetic-bond club.

When I arrive in the library, all the other males are scattered throughout, already combing through the tall shelves, fingers moving down spines as they scan titles.

The stately two-story room looks straight out of a bibliophile’s fantasy. It has a jaw-dropping spiral staircase at the center, custom millwork matching the tall mahogany shelves lining the walls—stuffed to the brim with ancient and modern tomes. At the back of the room is a large, heavy desk that’s some kind of Alberad family heirloom with intricate woodworking designs. This is where I find Bertie, diligently working through the stacks of books surrounding him.

“So, are we looking for anything specific, or just hoping the right book jumps out at us?” I ask Bertie.

The males close to the desk shake their heads at me, but I swear Jasper’s and Jamie’s lips quirk up.

“Please, no jokes right now, Everett. We are looking for all books on the fates and any mentions of unintended pairings or magical tattoos.” Bertie doesn’t even look up as he speaks, fully engrossed in scanning the Elvish text in front of him.

Harvey asks, “How’s your Elvish, Everett? Think you can look through this section with us?” He points to a row of shelves in front of him, filled with Elvish script on the spines of timeworn tomes.

Erik confesses quietly, “I’m super rusty, haven’t read one Elvish text since school.”

“It’s not like I read Elvish books every day either, but I’ll come help.” I sigh deeply as I stomp off toward them, mentally repeating the Elvish alphabet to myself to refresh my memory.

The curriculum at Alberad School for the Supernatural is very thorough. Since the school is owned and run by the elves, we learn Elvish language and history, but they also teach the general customs of fellow supernatural beings. One of our daily classes was also tailored to our individual natures, teaching us how to master control of our inherent proclivities when trying to blend into a generally human society.

Being a very rare dhampir, I was slotted in with the vampires. We had lessons concentrated on how to control our bloodlust, how to reduce a craving for blood, and even where all the best veins run in the human body and how to safely drink from them. Including guidelines on proper aftercare for a donor.

All very useful information for the vampires, but I’ve never so much as drooled at the sight or smell of blood, making me somewhat exempt from that particular intrinsic element.

I do, however, enjoy the benefits of the fast speed, sharp eyesight, and a keen sense of smell. They have served me particularly well in my life.

My advanced hearing tends to be a bother at times though. Like right now, when I have to listen to the grumblings of some of my friends.

“Hey, Sawyer, what’s with all the huffing?” I ask my bear shifter friend.

“All the books are making me itchy, reminds me of being stuck behind a desk at school all day,” Sawyer mutters grumpily.

“Missing your cabin in the woods already?”

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