Page 50 of Tempting the Dhampir

The taste of her cunt was incredible, but the taste of her blood was ambrosia.

I had to wrench my head away, not fully understanding what was happening.

Until she pointed out my fangs.

The moment I saw my reflection in the mirror, I knew I had to get out of there before I did something I couldn’t take back.

I wanted more.

Needing guidance and not knowing who else to turn to, I make for the fire escape and call my best friend. He answers after the first ring.

“Everett.”

“Bertie,” I sigh, lowering myself onto a step.

“What has happened?”

“How can you tell?” I rest my elbows on my knees and let my head hang forward, propping it against the hand not holding my phone.

“I’ve been your friend for eighteen years. You don’t call unless something extreme has happened. In light of the recent events with the women, I can only assume this has something to do with them.” He makes a pretty good point.

“You’d be right to assume that. But it’s actually more of a me thing,” I admit.

I hear him shuffle some papers and a door closing. “Explain.”

“I’ve got fangs,” I state flatly, appreciating that Bertie wants to get straight to the point.

“As in vampire fangs?”

“Yup.”

“When did they appear?” Bertie’s oddly unfazed by my admission.

“Just now.” I wince, Sadie’s beautiful face etched with shock clear in my mind.

“I’m going to need more than that. But this doesn’t surprise me.” Bertie’s calm is having the opposite effect on me.

“No?! I’m fucking freaking out over here, Bertie. I was with Sadie, in the… bedroom, and they just suddenly… appeared.” I try to calm my frantic tone.

“Anything you can think of that triggered them to descend?”

“I don’t particularly want to talk about Sadie to you, but yeah. Her scent and taste kind of overwhelmed me, yet I wanted more,” I confess, pulling at my hair, hating how helpless I feel right now.

Bertie’s next question startles me. “Could you sense her blood?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” I choke out. “Why?”

How could he have guessed?

“This makes sense to me. I have a theory, and this is a step closer to confirming it,” he says, telling me something while not telling me anything at all.

I’ve forgotten how good he is at avoiding hard conversations until he’s ready for them himself with all the facts he needs.

“Care to explain?” I ask slowly, rubbing at the stubble on my jaw.

“Not quite yet. I just returned from the library with new resources and will focus today’s research around the theory you have just validated.”

I’m sure he’s probably holed up in his study to get as much research done as fast as possible. Bertie’s sense of duty has always weighed heavily on him.

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