Page 4 of Shut Up and Bite Me

The inside of this place is packed tonight. No wonder the line outside wrapped down the street and around the sidewalk.

Music pulses through the speakers as we make our way through the crowd to the bar to get a drink. If it weren’t for the fact that I have super strength, speed, and senses that make me feel fearless, I would never come in here. This place would be terrifying to me as a human.

We take turns ordering our drinks, and I turn around and lean back against the counter as we wait, scanning the crowd for any familiar faces, at least the ones I can see from here.

Alcohol alone doesn’t really do anything to us, and the only time it does is if we consume enough to kill an elephant. However, if we take a little Deadly Nightshade, also known as Belladonna, not enough to do any real damage but enough to weaken our systems a hair, then the alcohol hits us a hell of a lot faster. Which is why before we left my place tonight, we each took a low dose of Nightshade flowers.

Ava hands me my drink, and I take a sip of the vodka soda, trying not to show the disgust on my face, but I fail miserably.Ugh.The entire mouthful was basically just vodka, which I suppose serves the purpose of the drink, but it tastes like shit.

Ava and Skylar fall into a conversation, speaking in a normal tone that is completely drowned out by the noise, but not to us if we listen intently enough. But I don’t care to eavesdrop on their hot-or-not listing of the guys in the club.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and that same eerie sensation from earlier trickles down my spine like a slithering snake.What the hell is that? Annoyance.

It’s like I’m feeling someone else’s emotion, like it’s breaking through my barriers without my consent. Which should be impossible.

I hate feeling any ounce out of control, and this is making me feel like a puppet in someone else’s game. Curiosity kills the cat, right? Well, it also kills cute vampires named Vivian because I can’t ever seem to help myself.

“Look, man, I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.”

Who the hell said that?

Perking up and standing up taller, I open myself to the group, searching for the source of concern. As I bounce between each person I tap into their emotions, the majority are feeling horny and/or annoyed, not what I’m looking for.

“We don’t want any trouble.”Where did that come from?

I hear the same voice again, the tone clear as day, as if he’s standing right beside me. But no one is.

Latching onto the voice, I close my eyes and focus on where it came from. I don’t know how to explain it other than it’s like a string connecting me to whoever I’m tuned in to, and I have to mentally tug on it until I find its origin.

His breathing fills my ears, each inhale and exhale speeding up, and I swear I can feel his breath fluttering through my hair and warming the side of my cheek.

A tree plants itself across the room where he stands. Long, intertwining roots snake beneath the floor, bursting through the ground under my feet, and I feel him as if we are connected.

The moment I latch onto him, I know exactly where he is, and I’m striding forward, swimming through the sea of people to the source.

In seconds, I reach my destination, and all the air dissipates from my lungs.

I’ve never felt this pull to someone’s emotions before or had the desire to let them in like I do right now. I want to feel what he’s feeling like an itch I desperately need to scratch.

He’s hot in a sexy nerd type of way. The sharp curve of his jaw ticks as he locks eyes with a guy across from him, but I can’t seem to tear my gaze away from his tousled blonde hair and summer pool blue eyes, perfectly framed behind his glasses. He’s quite mesmerizing to look at. Beautiful. Like he stepped outof a piece of art. I haven’t been entranced by someone like this since…well, since ever.

Taking a deep breath, I let my guard down for him and attempt to carefully let in whatever emotion is coursing through him.

Nervousness. Confusion. Hesitation. A little fear and anger…lots of anger. The kind that is rooted deep in the soul, kept away in the darkest parts of a person, and always begging to be let out.

I wonder if his anger wants to have a playdate with mine.

The other guy gets in his face and blocks my perfect view, and the only things I sense from him are the desire for chaos and the guilt for causing it, which is rather contradictory.

I do not have time for this, though, because I’m dying to know more about the hot six-foot-four blond guy that demanded to be noticed by me.

Closing the few feet remaining between us, I slide my hand across the other guy’s chest, drawing his attention to me. His fury quickly morphs into arousal, and I try not to throw up. If only he could physically feel my rejection.

Locking eyes with him, I smile. “Hi,” I whisper before standing on my tiptoes, mentally visualizing my next words in his mind and planting them as if they were his own. “Apologize for causing a scene and leave for the rest of the night.”

Rocking back on my heels, I watch his shoulders relax before he turns to my hot mystery guy.

“Oh, man. I’m so sorry about all of this. Have a good night,” he says calmly before speeding off, beelining it for the exit.

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