Page 20 of A Sip of Sin

Munro blinked away the thought as he leaned against the wall in the kitchen, glaring at the server as he slipped by him with the tray of pastries. Tonight, Sean had outdone himself, incorporating strawberries into the menu, along with basil. The tea was rich with caramel undertones, Munro’s own cup of it within arm’s reach.

Steam curled over the glass, beckoning him to take another sip. He curled his lip, his teeth no-doubt on display to anyone who cared to look. The servers’ minds had all beenconvincednot to notice the strange displays of the patrons, Munro included.

He had to fight not to snap as another server went by, their tray brimming with treats. The place was packed, every one of the patrons as cold-blooded as he was. The servers were the only warmth, so much of his influence in their thoughts that they would not have been able to tell their closest family members where they worked.

As long as their pay landed in their accounts at the end of the week, Munro found they had no desire to resist the webs he had sewn into their thoughts. One tug, and the memories of their employment would unravel, leaving a small wound where months should have been. He never let it go on for too long.

The air pressure changed as the front door opened, but Munro didn’t lift his head. He knew exactly how it would play out.

There would be a small rush of adrenaline when he first looked up, hoping against hope that he would see Hollen there. It would only take a few seconds to recognize whoever else daredenter his domain with the scent of stale blood and the breeze from outside. A few had turned and left right there at the power of his glare, his stomach dropping further each time.

“Covi.” Rhys entered the kitchen with a whirlwind of energy, a server stepping to the side with their tray balanced on fingertips. There was a smile on his lips, blood staining the cracks between his teeth with the metallic taint filling the room.

Are you insane?Munro glowered, breathing deep and letting the blood rush over his pallet. The image of a woman filled his mind, along with blonde hair and dark eyes, music and sweat surrounding the moment of the bite. He huffed, his stomach turning.

The chef looked up, scrunching his nose with distaste before he shook his head. “Whatever it is, keep it out of my kitchen.”

Sean came from family—not a vampire himself but surrounded by them since birth and managing to survive three older brothers with fangs.

Munro nodded, pushing away from the wall.

Rhys stopped him with a hand on his chest. “I have news.” His grin stretched wider, his eyes almost wild. His prey had most likely been drugged, the amphetamines rushing through his veins with the same vigor. It seemed to give him that extra strength as he pushed Munro, keeping him pinned to his spot.

“I need you to come with me—just…give me a moment to prepare.” He staggered, leaning into Munro until the blood reeked in the air between them. Munro winced, turning his head to the side.

Sean was staring at them, his lips pressed into a thin line. There was a touch of surprise in his look as he glanced between them. “Rhys, you’re drunk. Get out of my kitchen before you break something important. Munro…”—Sean hesitated for a moment, before looking back to the strawberries he was endlessly cutting—“you should stay.”

Red stained Sean’s fingers, small green pieces of stem clinging to him in a few places. There were a few spots on his white jacket where an especially juicy berry had flown through the air, staining everything it touched.

Is that pity?Munro tilted his head, wincing as Rhys chuckled against him, his lips whispering over his exposed neck. He was drunk or high, and probably too far gone to restrain himself.Don’t have pity for someone like me.

“I have someone down the hall.” Rhys looped his arms around Munro’s neck, nuzzling into him. The action caught him off guard. It was something he’d craved for the past few endless weeks, but Rhys was the last one he wanted it from. “Come see. It’s gonna be sofun.”

Munro stifled his gasp when the sharpness of teeth slipped over his skin—there one moment before it disappeared.

“You’re so tense, Covi.” Rhys laughed, too high and fast to be sane.

Sean snapped his fingers, finally drawing Rhys’ attention. “Hey.” To his credit, he stood his ground, even as Rhys turned a withering glare on him. “Out. I was planning on retiring in a moment anyway,” said Munro, letting out a deep sigh. He avoided Sean’s eyes as he side-stepped Rhys, escaping him and grasping his cup of tea. The steam was gone, but it was still warm when he took his first sip. That much warmth alone was enough to strengthen him, pushing the persistent chill from his limbs.

Constant cold had been his companion from the moment he’d come into his immortal life.

“The tea is perfect, Chef. My compliments.” Munro raised his glass in a salute, before setting it on the counter and turning away. Rhys was at his back, his breathing loud and feral.

“Munro, I didn’t—”

Munro waved his hand, cutting Sean off. He’d already humiliated himself enough for one night, weakness pulling at his core.

He left the kitchen before Sean could stop him, Rhys skipping ahead of him after a few steps. Rhys staggered into the wall as they rounded the corner to the hall, sending a grin over his shoulder.

In moments, the lights flickered off, plunging the hall into darkness. It was what every person met on their stroll into hell, the sensors in the walls picking up any signs of movement and triggering the darkness. For a vampire, it was child’s play, their eyes just as good in the dark as the daylight. Any server who accidentally stumbled back here ran with screams on their lips.

There was still the question as to how Hollen had made it past the first few steps. Munro had meant it as a joke of sorts to send him to find the laundry that didn’t exist. What he’d been hoping for was to have Hollen run screaming after the first step, offering a bit of entertainment as he’d fled into the night.There’s nothing like a good chase.

It would have given him the excuse to slip into his mind, twining with the intricacies as he took a small sip. The strangest sense of guilt clawed its way up his throat as he thought of it. He’d played the game a hundred times…Why is this time so different?

Hollen had made it past the layers of trepidation and the slip of darkness to the very chamber where his murder was so fond of arguing amongst themselves, as if their words alone could change the world.

While Munro wasn’t enraptured, he preferred to drop in from time to time, sometimes steering past the throne to the hidden door beyond where his bed lay. He’d had to cart the thing down the hall himself when the movers had fled—all thick wooden beams along with the mattress.

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