Page 7 of Taste of Fate

She turned to face the gathered crowd, and it was no surprise that she went straight toward the small, crying woman who burst into a fresh wave of tears. They embraced tightly and I found myself looking away from the scene I had no right to be watching.

Octavia hugged the older woman who had been with her crying friend, but no one else approached to offer affection or well wishes of any kind. I scanned faces and they all looked mildly uncomfortable. Inconvenienced. The fear and nerves seemed to have passed, and now they all wanted to return to their lives.

It was all very strange to me. Maybe humans didn’t get as attached to each other as I had thought. In a vampire clan, every single member would be devastated at losing one of our own. The humans’ reactions made me wonder about Octavia’s relationship with the two people she was saying goodbye to.

After a few more hugs and hushed words, my blood pet reluctantly stepped away from her fellow humans and returned to where I stood. Her face was dry, although her eyes shone with unspent tears.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m ready to go.”

I dipped my head in a nod, but said nothing as I led her to my bike. This whole ordeal was fucking strange and my head was spinning.

Thorne tossed his finished cigarette on the ground, then returned his grip to the handlebars. “See you in fifty years,” he said to the human leader before revving his engine.

My bike roared as I took off after him with my new blood pet seated behind me, and my fangs itching for her blood.

Chapter 3

Tavia

Icould almost convince myself that this was a nightmare. I had the eerie feeling of being suspended in space, not truly going anywhere. That I hadn’t actually left the only home I’d ever known, nor said goodbye to Amy for the last time. Her tear-streaked, heartbroken face wasn’t real, because we were still together. I wasn’t traveling across a dark landscape at high speeds, wind whipping at my skin while I clutched for dear life onto a vampire’s leather jacket. I was just floating, disconnected from it all.

I’d never been on the back of a motorcycle before. It must have been freezing, tearing through the windy night while holding onto a vampire’s waist, wearing nothing but the stupid white dress the council had put me in. But I felt so numb to the bone that I couldn’t truly feel anything at all.

At some point, the out-of-body experience ended and everything felt real again. Biting winds gave way to stagnant air. Instead of the constant roar of motorcycles in my ears, silence poured in, then echoing voices and footsteps. I blinked and realized I was in a garage. Concrete floors, a high ceiling with florescent lights, and a sea of motorcycles stretched out before me.

Reality hit me like a brick wall then. I was completely alone in a den full of vampires, and I would never see Amy or go home again.

“Shit. You’re freezing.”

I turned stiffly toward the voice and saw him, the vampire I now belonged to. Despite living in Sanguine my whole life, I had never seen one this close. And like a rare wild animal, he was fascinating to look at.

He appeared mostly human, but a little different. It wasn’t something I could put my finger on, even before I had noticed his red eyes and elongated canines. He was dangerous in a way that set my instincts on edge. His dark hair was buzzed close to his scalp, nothing hiding his incredible bone structure. He was beautiful in a masculine way, his face boyish with full lips, prominent cheekbones, a straight nose, and dark lashes framing those ruby eyes.

Even his pinched frown was painfully gorgeous.

“I should have given you my jacket,” he said. The tips of his fangs flashed in the overhead lights as he spoke. “I forgot that your kind is more susceptible to cold temperatures.”

Looking down, I saw his hand around my upper arm and found myself curiously inspecting the differences in our skin tones and textures. I had a bronze tan from years of working out in the sun, plus plenty of small scars and freckles dotting me all over. His skin was completely unmarked, smooth like it was airbrushed, and much paler with reddish undertones.

“Come inside.” His tone was commanding but held a warmth I didn’t expect. “We’ll get you warmed up and settled in.”

He didn’t pull me off the motorcycle, but waited with his hand firmly around my upper arm.

My insides felt like a gated horse just waiting to bolt. I wanted to run back to Amy, away from him, his fangs, and this strange place. But the metal door had since dropped closed behind me, and my legs were cramped and stiff after hours of riding. I would never make it even if I tried.

Plus, this was the fate I signed up for, after all.

I slid from the motorcycle’s seat to the floor with his assistance. Once my feet hit the ground, he released my arm and proceeded to lead the way.

We left the garage through a door, entering a massive, open room. The ceilings were high and vaulted at steep angles, with the only windows being small rectangles near the tops of the walls. A small, elevated stage with a stripper pole stood in the center of the room. Classy. I’d heard stories that vampires enjoyed their debauchery on a whole other level.

My protector, or whatever he was, Cyan, cut a path straight through the room, bypassing the many couches, bars, large flatscreen TV on one wall, stripper pole, all of it. The opposite side of the room contained a huge, ornate kitchen, even bigger than the community kitchen in Sapien. This looked much nicer and more updated than ours, but Cyan walked quickly and I hustled to keep up. When he crossed the room, opened two heavy and intricately carved doors on the far wall and kept walking.

There was a spacious landing and then a staircase leading down. I followed Cyan carefully down the steps, noting how much cooler the air felt as we descended. This level had to be underground. I could vaguely remember from my early education on vampires that they preferred to be underground when asleep during the day. It was more comforting to sleep under the surface where the sun’s rays couldn’t reach them.

I once thought going underground would feel incredibly claustrophobic, like being buried alive, but the corridor we landed in was spacious and well-lit. The angled ceiling continued on the second level above us, so there was no sense of being crushed under the weight of the earth.

Cyan marched down the corridor, his booted footfalls echoing. The walls were lined with doors, with sconces placed between each door. The wall lights were warmer here, giving off a yellow glow that was almost soothing. There were also side tables holding plants and portraits on the walls between the doors.

---