Page 52 of Feeding Frenzy

“Did you get that?” I said to the phone.

Alistair hummed.

“I will be there momentarily.”

“Thank you,” I breathed in relief. He didn’t respond, so I lifted the phone to look at the screen. He’d already hung up. I pursed my lips and handed it back.

“Uh, thanks.” He side-eyed me. That spicy smell coming from him disappeared. As he rounded behind his podium his whispered words seemed shouted at me, “Weirdo hot girl.” He shook his head.

I pursed my lips.

“Can I get a booth?”

He waved me through the entrance. “Take any available.” He was already back to playing on his phone.

I selected the booth at the furthest corner, where I had my back fully to the wall. I slid onto the bouncy faux leather. A server approached.

“Can I get you anything?” she chirped, cheerfully. I smiled, close-lipped, in case my fangs chose to make a showing.

“Coffee and pancakes please and that’s all.” She typed on an electronic pad, presumably sending the order over to the kitchen.

“Coming right up.” She left, and I was alone. I laced my fingers together and squeezed my hands.

My gums burned . . .

I scrubbed my palms over my face and groaned. Well, I had what I wanted. I was a vampire, but of course I was some screwed up version of one. Human blood didn’t entice me a bit. But vampire blood? My gums pulsated.

NINETEEN

catalina

“Catalina Herrera.”

I jumped, banging my knee under the table. I’d been so absorbed in blocking out the clanging coming from the kitchen, the conversations of customers, and the crying child across the restaurant that I hadn’t noticed him. Alistair slid into the booth opposite of me. I slowly let out the breath I’d held and took care not to breathe through my nose. Wouldn’t want to try to eat the vampire I had to rely on.

I turned toward the waitress’s footsteps as she approached with my food.

“Here you go.” She set the plate of pancakes and steaming coffee in front of me.

Her gaze settled on Alistair and her eyes slightly widened, her body visibly reacting. Sure, Alistair was attractive, but I had too many Crimson males on my plate. I was good. My gaze fastened on the pounding at her throat. I fixated on it.

Alistair tapped the back of my hand, and it ripped me out of the alluring sight of the pounding at her throat. Only the knowledge that I wouldn’t like the taste held me in place.

“Let me know if you need anything,” she said, but my attention was already on the food before me. I couldn’t take abreath yet, but steam floated off the top of the coffee. Would it taste as good as I remembered? I licked my lower lip and grabbed a fork and stabbed it into the pancake. The tips clicked against the plate with a loud crack. A fissure opened up to the edge of the ceramic. I pursed my lips and scooped some pancake with the prongs.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he drawled.

I stuffed the fork into my mouth and it clinked against my now sharp incisor. I winced, but clamped my mouth shut. The food rested on my tongue like sawdust.

My stomach turned. I frantically looked around for a napkin.

Alistair sighed and tugged a folded piece of cloth from his pocket. He held it out for me. The material was smooth against my fingertips. I winced apologetically and turned to the side to spit the food out.

“Uh, thanks,” I croaked and bundled the sullied cloth on the plate. I cleared my throat and lifted my chin. “What will you want from me?”

He leaned back, lacing his hands on top of the table.

“What is ityouwant fromme?”

---