Page 25 of Taste of Fate

“We’re not interested.” I said it firmly, like I was shutting down a pushy salesperson in the human world, but the vampire was not deterred.

“Don’t be scared, ladies. It’s just a little sunlight. It gives life to every living thing except us. Why should we be excluded?” He gestured to himself and Bea, who was still staring daggers at him. “This lets us see the world the same way all of Temkra’s other creatures do. Equality, finally! And all it takes is a little drop in your eyes an hour before dawn.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” Bea muttered.

“Yes, exactly! That’s what I said when I first tried it and felt the sun’s light on me...”

The rambling, probably-still-high vampire didn’t notice she was actually looking past him, at the furious Cyan storming directly for our table.

Chapter 9

Cyan

My next day off had me antsy as hell, buzzing with restlessness. I sure as hell couldn’t stay home so I hit the street heading toward the Cap, opting to walk instead of riding my motorcycle.

It was no mystery why I was on edge. A certain human woman was the culprit, one that I couldn’t touch or drink from, lest I shackle myself to her and only her. The answer to handling that was the same way I handled most stresses in life—a pulsing neck at my mouth and a pretty ass in my lap.

Tavi had been haunting me like a ghost since she arrived, and not an entirely unwelcome one. Her scent always hit me like brisk, fresh air when I entered my apartment. It smelled like coming home, not just crashing in my bed for the day. Even when I left my place, small hints of her presence lingered in the hallway and great room.

It felt like witchcraft, some strange magic that I began associating her scent with home and comfort. And it unnerved me.

After a few days, Tavi seemed to be settling in well enough. She and Bea were attached at the hip, always together. My clan mates were starting to talk about her, referring to her in casual conversation like she was one of us. And technically speaking, I suppose she was. This arrangement was not temporary. She was staying with us for the rest of her natural life. That thought always gave me strange feelings. Not bad exactly, but feelings I wasn’t used to.

She was my blood pet in name only, and yet I felt oddly possessive of her. I got twitchy and a little snarly when someone else referred to her as Tavi. Only I called her that, Temkra damn it.

Why did she have to be so…interesting? Why couldn’t she be a typical human who made themselves small around us, trying like hell to not to draw attention to themselves? No, she had to have that tantalizing scent, had to bravely volunteer for the Selection to save her friend. She even had the cool winemaking hobby, which was especially unfair for making her even more interesting. On top of all that, she had to be appealing to look at too.

All of those factors combined made me insatiably curious about the taste of her blood. But the moment I tasted her, I’d be claiming her. Which was absolutely not an option. And so the vicious cycle of pulling away began again.

Eventually, I would get bored of her. I inevitably got bored of every female who came my way. Until that happened, I had to settle for distraction.

I weaved my way through the crowded streets of the Cap before walking into Pulse Point like a man on a mission. It wasn’t the only club Blood 'til Dawn owned, but it was my personal favorite. The VIP lounge in the loft was always reserved for our clan members only, roped off to anyone else except our personal guests.

With a nod at the bouncer at the base of the stairs, I went up to the loft to find it empty. Perfect. A night out was usually best enjoyed with friends, but I was about to drink from someone who was not my blood pet, and I didn’t want any of their disapproving looks killing my buzz. The waitress coming over to serve me, on the other hand, was exactly what I needed.

“Cyan,” she purred, orange eyes lighting up. “What can I do for you?”

Irina was a dragon shifter, and a gorgeous member of the species. More importantly, her blood was spicy, rich, and satisfying. Her forked tongue often lent to a good time as well.

“Blood.” I held out a small wad of cash and gave her my most charming smile. “And the pleasure of your company, of course.”

She smiled back, plucking the cash from my hand with long, slender fingers. “I’ll be right back. Should I send over a drink while I get ready?”

“That would be great.”

I settled on one of the plush couches while she left to wash off any make-up, sweat, or perfume that might affect her taste. The neck was an area where scents tended to concentrate, so a quick wash or rinse was standard procedure.

Another waitress brought over a drink on a tray, my usual, a Sazerac with a small dash of blood. I left a generous tip on her tray, and she was forgotten the moment I picked up my drink. Absently, I watched the light show and the DJ on the floor below as I took a sip, and the taste that hit my tongue immediately pulled me out of any relaxed state.

I grimaced, holding the glass up to examine it. Something was off in the drink. It wasn’t awful but not the taste I was used to. I made a face as I swallowed, then sniffed the inside of the glass for anything amiss. Nothing that I could detect.

“Everything okay, Cy?” Irina’s deep, honeyed voice floated over, closely followed by her hand landing with gentle weight on my thigh.

“You change up your blood source? Or your whiskey?” I set the drink aside.

Irina frowned, a crease forming between her reptilian orange eyes. “No, they’re both the same as we’ve always used. Why?”

“Something taste’s off, but it’s not a big deal.” I slid an arm around her waist, bringing her to my lap.

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