Page 2 of Blood Match

“Really?” She looks back at the glass. I know what she’s thinking. Vampires don’t drink wine. Why would I be holding the glass if I didn’t want it filled with blood? But then again, she’s missing the point. I inhale again.

Leather and cedar.

It makes me think of a night long ago when I rode through the woods on a stolen horse. Good times.

The woman is talking again. Dammit. “I’d be honored if you’d drink from me,” she says, her voice steady despite the slight tremor in her hands.

Marcus grins, nudging me. “Come on, man. Accept the offer. You’re being a dick. You need an attitude adjustment.”

I sigh, setting my glass down and rolling my shoulders. My neck is tight. “Will it get you off my back?”

“Hey, I’m doing this for you, friend.” Marcus waves a hand magnanimously.

The woman winks at him, then slides into the booth beside me and tilts her head. Her smile is pure sin as she exposes her throat. “You won’t mind if I get off on this?” Straight white teeth dent her full bottom lip.

I try not to heave an exasperated breath. This is precisely why I prefer my blood tapped for me. I know that it’s convenient for our kind to have humans give themselves willingly, but I’ve never loved the fact that it’s because a well-placed bite triggers most of their erogenous zones.

“Whatever,” I mutter, then lean in, sinking my fangs into her soft skin. There’s a moment where all I’m aware of is the cloying oil of her body lotion. And then it hits me. Blood. Warmth rushes over my tongue and into my mouth.

As the first drops hit my tongue, I wait for the familiar rush of energy to flood my body. But it doesn’t come. Instead, a strange sensation begins to build. It’s initially unpleasant, like a mild itch at the back of my throat. I frown.

What…?

The sensation grows, morphing from discomfort into something far worse. The girl makes a small choking sound, and I realize that my nails have extended, raking red streaks over her pale flesh. I have to work to uncurl my fingers from where I’m gripping her arm too tightly. It’s not easy because my muscles are spasming. A searing pain rips through me, starting in my throat and radiating outward. It feels like liquid fire coursing through my veins, setting every nerve ending ablaze.

My fist clenches as a wave hits me, and the girl shrieks.

“Darick! What the hell?” Marcus’s voice sounds distant, muffled by the roaring in my ears.

I recoil violently, retracting my fangs and shoving the woman away with more force than I intended. She tumbles off the booth seat, landing hard on the floor with a yelp of pain. I barely register her fall or Marcus’s startled exclamation.

“Fuck!” My hands fly to my throat as I gasp and choke. The pain is unbearable, unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s as if my body is trying to tear itself apart from the inside out.

The woman stumbles backward, eyes wide with fear and confusion. “What…what’s going on?”

I can’t answer. I’m doubled over, clutching my stomach, my face contorted in agony.

What the fuck?

Marcus is instantly at my side, all traces of amusement gone. “Darick? What is it?”

I struggle to speak through the pain. “The blood…something’s wrong with her blood. I…” I try to continue, but all that comes out is a strangled gasp. My vision blurs, the pulsing lights of the club swirling into a nauseating kaleidoscope. The bass from the music seems to reverberate through my skull, amplifying the agony.

“What is he doing?” The woman’s voice is pitching higher.

“Go! Get out of here!” Marcus barks at her. If she does as she’s told, I’m unaware of it; the pain has blinded me.

I struggle to focus as Marcus helps me out of the seat and then guides me from the club, my body still wracked with spasms. I barely notice the curious stares as we make our way out. The cool night air hits my face as we stumble onto the sidewalk, and I finally feel like I can breathe again.

“Darick, what the hell happened in there?” Marcus’s voice is tight with concern. “What’s going on?”

I lean against the brick wall, trying to steady myself. “It was…it was like poison,” I manage to gasp out. “Her blood…it felt wrong. Tainted somehow.”

Marcus is silent for a moment, his expression shifting from confusion to something I can’t quite read. “Has this happened before?” he asks carefully.

“What? No, of course not,” I snap, irritation flaring through the lingering pain. “I think I’d remember being poisoned by blood, Marcus.”

He holds up his hands placatingly. “Alright, alright. But tell me something – why haven’t you been feeding regularly? And don’t give me that bullshit about not being hungry.”

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