Page 65 of The Cruelty of Thorns

“I don’t have one of those.”

Her eyes widened. “You don’t work? How do you live?”

I grinned at her. “I’ve invested wisely during my life.”

“But you don’t look much older than me.”

“Looks can be deceiving, cuore mio.”

I couldn’t exactly tell her I lived off of the spoils of my hunts. There had been lovers over the years, people of wealth and power who provided me with everything I needed to survive in the world. I learned the art of manipulation early on in this new life. It was almost too easy to turn the human mind to my favor. And I hadn’t exactly lied to her; I did make the most of my investments. Enough that I lived a comfortable existence.

When we got to the campus, she squeezed my hand tighter, like she didn’t want to let go. I walked her to the door of her dorm, turning her around to face me. “I enjoyed this evening.”

“Me, too,” she said. “Will I…will I see you tomorrow?”

As much as I wanted that to happen–had actually manipulated events in that direction–I knew we were playing with fire spending time together. Was I strong enough to control my impulses around her? I know I wanted to try. She was all I thought about.

But if I told her no, would she do something reckless like going into town to look for me? I couldn’t take that chance.

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow evening around the same time. Stay right here where you can be seen.”

“I will,” she promised.

I pulled her close and pressed my lips to hers, the kiss triggering the hunger I had thus far managed to keep at bay. I pulled away reluctantly and smiled at her.

“Go inside now. I’m sure your roommate has been worried about you.”

She frowned at that and turned to walk up the steps. I watched until she had entered the building and the door had clicked shut behind her, knowing that for me, the night had just begun.

When I’d left the house tonight, it was to find a new feeding source. I hadn’t planned on running into Myra, though I wasn’t disappointed in how the evening had played out. Unfortunately, our desperate coupling in the alley had only sharpened my appetite.

I headed back toward the bar district with the intent of answering that need. There was no limit of possibilities on the streets tonight, and I determined to take my time and find one strong enough to provide me with sustenance for several days.

I was approaching the bar where I first saw Myra when I caught the nerve-searing scent of blood on the evening breeze. I followed the enticing lure, venturing down the alley running behind the bars, ignoring the pungent odor of moldering food in the dumpsters to hone in on the one I sought. I found what I was looking for near a back door where a dim bulb illuminated the path for the kitchen staff to dump the trash.

She was young; Myra’s age. No doubt a student. The scent of cum told me she had been raped, her throat ravaged, her blood smeared across the pale skin. I crouched next to the body and leaned closer, sampling the air for a clue to her attacker. A single red rose lay on her chest, and I knew with fatal certainty that it had been left there for my benefit.

I stood up and looked around to ensure my presence had not been noticed before leaving the alley and heading back in the direction of my home. Hunting would have to wait until later.

On the way there I fought against the rage churning inside me, the food I had consumed earlier sitting like a lead weight in my stomach. We don’t need to eat; our bodies don’t process the food for any functional purpose. I don’t know how many vampires actually bother with it at all, but I like the taste of food every now and then, though I reserve my feedings for items worthy of the discomfort they cause.

Right now, however, I was wishing I had abstained, and it took all my willpower not to stop and regurgitate the remains. I needed to feed soon, but more than that, I needed to find the one responsible for these bodies. Someone had invaded my territory, and the presence of their calling card meant the list of suspects was short.

CHAPTER 28

INTERLUDE

A dish served cold

I DON’T KNOW how long I sat on the floor of that dark cell with Rosetta’s head in my lap. Anastacia had left after delivering her hellish news, and I spent a long time fighting with the guilt of what I had done. But gradually my will took over. There was nothing I could do to bring back Rosetta, but I could avenge her death.

For a week I waited while I plotted and planned. During that time Anastacia, no doubt with the help of Tomasso, had obtained two new captives, both younger and more malleable than I had been. I was invited to Anastacia’s room to partake of them, and while I had no desire to be in her presence, I couldn’t deny the appetites that now ruled me. Like it or not, I needed blood, as well as the accompanying sex. Having to bide my time and play nice with Anastacia and Christopher was the hardest thing I had ever done, but I couldn’t chance them figuring out my intentions.

On the seventh day, I happened to be downstairs when Christopher approached me, wanting to know if I would like to accompany him on a hunting expedition into town.

“Anastacia means well with her little captives,” he whined, “but I crave variety.”

Since the only place I wanted to accompany him was to his own grave, I declined the invitation, but it gave me an idea. Perhaps it was time to put my plan into motion. I waited until he had left and was sure Anastacia was busy in her room with her new captives, then stole out to the stables.

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