Page 18 of Ashvale: The Vampire's Kiss

“You’ll meet me back at the house?”

I bowed my head and Cal nodded before teleporting himself away. The moon was fully out by then, shining brightly overhead, and I shook out my fur, excited to run, to explore new terrain. I was desperate to get the scent of the vampires out of my head and to focus on something, anything, other than the kiss I’d shared with Leonora earlier. One taste of her just wasn’t enough—so I ran until my legs ached and my lungs burned, my paw pads freezing from the hard-packed earth. The vampires were long-forgotten, lost in my run across the hills and through the trees, but my lips could still feel hers on mine, her hands in my hair, and I knew the memory of it would haunt me until I could claim her once more.

Chapter Ten

Leonora

Laughter spilled out of us, echoing between the carriages as it drifted out of the dirty windows. The heat was stifling, my top already sticking to my back despite the breeze as the tube barrelled forward. My eardrums pounded, the squealing of the brakes leaving me dizzy, but we only shouted louder, laughed harder, mimicking the posh lady’s voice as it sounded over the speakers.

Blonde hair danced in front of my face, rippling like it was in slow motion as soft tendrils brushed my cheeks. I couldn’t remember her name, though her face was familiar, her brown eyes warm and her smile big. I was smiling too, enjoying the freedom of the empty carriage by being obnoxiously loud.

My heartbeat was fast and my head was hazy from whatever drug we’d taken at the club. The night tube was dead at this time of night—or morning, technically, but it still managed to feel alive. Like the tracks were breathing.

Eyes on my skin. A prickle on my neck.

We weren’t as alone as I’d initially thought.

Dark hair. Sweet eyes. A smile that dripped with amusement, sincere, yearning. Like it was a simple pleasure he’d not experienced before. My smile was inviting and I inclined my head for good measure, laughing loudly when he stood up and walked over to join us. His white skin looked tanned under the yellow lights and his teeth a little sharp when we were plunged into the shadows of an approaching tunnel.

The blonde girl was shouting excitedly, her tongue piercing showing as she laughed with her full body. His eyes were focused on me. Wholly and absolutely.

Our stop arrived and we fell out of the doors, the dark-haired man’s hand clutched in mine and his arm tucked under the blonde’s. We swayed, all three of us, like we were on a ship, somehow managing to keep each other upright as we walked.

Time blurred, stopped and shuddered, and we were somewhere else. Drinks in our hands and quiet music in our ears, and he was still there. Watching me, grinning into his drink when he thought I wasn’t looking, and when we left the pub, there was never a question about whether he was coming with us.

Until we fell. Until I bled.

Then those sweet eyes belonged to a monster who was more teeth than soul and the darkness was pouring into me, like the stars wanted to sink into my marrow as his tears hit my cold face. I was dying. I was dying and the warmth was leaving me, sinking into the pavement, into his body as he drank me down?—

Laughter spilled out of us, echoing between the carriages as it drifted out of the dirty windows. The heat was stifling, my top already sticking to my back despite the breeze as the tube barrelled forward, the blood—the blood? No. No, there wasn’t any blood. Just sweat and sound and laughter and life. The yellow lights cast us all in a sickly pallor, the shadows kissing our complexion as we pushed through a tunnel and the stars yawned up above us, heat sinking into the pavement as the tracks breathed and breathed and?—

I was dying. I was dying. I was dying?—

“I’ve got you, love.”

Blue. Like ice, like water, chasing away the dark and the blood and the heat.

I blinked slowly, disoriented. I was dying, wasn’t I?

“No,” the blond-haired devil wrapped around me murmured. “No, you’re not dying. You’re dreaming.”

Dreaming. “Hayes,” I whispered and the ache in the words was okay, because this was a dream. It wasn’t real. Here, I could let him in. Here, it was safe.

I reached for him and his hair was soft under my fingers. The side that was shorn short had started to get long and I played with the baby hairs absently as the room seemed to filter in around us. We were on a bed, his bed, the one he’d had in Ashvale. The pale arms around my body were strong, holding me tightly like I would fall apart if he let go, and the muscles I could feel pressed against me under his T-shirt, beneath his jeans, were warm.

There was a languid heat between us, like stretching your body after a particularly good nap, luxuriating in the sun as it warmed your bones. Comfortable, blossoming, like it could explode into fire at any moment with just one touch.

“Do you dream about that night often?” he asked, voice soft in a way I was sure I’d never heard before as he stroked his fingers through the heavy length of my dark hair.

“Whenever I close my eyes,” I admitted. “I don’t know her name though, the blonde girl. Sometimes I think I know it, but nothing feels quite right. I did what I needed to do with Rowan. I couldn’t have done anything else. But…”

Hayes stayed quiet, not judging, just listening. “But it hurt.”

“Yes.”

“You’ll learn to control your instincts, as time goes on.”

“What do you mean?”

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