Page 26 of A Sip of Sin

Munro finally released him, and Hollen turned his head away, his vision swimming as he gasped in huge lungfuls of air. “I—”

His breath was swept away, rendering him silent as he licked his lips, trying to find any trace of blood left behind. His gut ached for it, needing to be filled until he was brimming with the dark liquid. Deep pools of exhaustion were swept away as his muscles tingled with energy, his entire body throbbing with it.

Munro breathed against Hollen’s cheek, sending a shiver along his skin. His hands were so still, one resting against Hollen’s neck and his other still at his hip, holding him firm to the mattress.

“How does it taste?” asked Munro, licking the bit of darkness from the red of his lips. Hollen longed to drag him closer and lickit up for himself, the power of that desire bringing him back to life.

“I don’t know.” Hollen gasped, reaching for his belly. It was so hot that he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to drink again or ever fit a morsel past his lips. He could fit more blood, but nothing else. Shaking his head, he tried to break through the thrall it had on him. “Notterrible.”

He swallowed again, wincing as the aftertaste hit him. There was the taste he’d expected, like old pennies had been sitting in his mouth all day. It stuck there, even as he tried to swallow it down. “Not really good, though.”

“What are you doing?” George’s voice in his head shattered the fuzziness of his mind, drawing back the comfortable curtain and plunging him straight into ice again.

“I—” Hollen blinked, shaking his head as Munro chuckled, apparently completely unaware of George’s presence.

George shifted in Hollen’s chest, smothering the rosy ache of the blood and drawing every bit of Hollen’s attention.

“I try to have a rest,” said George, “the first real rest I’ve taken all week.” His voice pitched low as he grumbled. “I wake up to find you naked and in bed with the enemy anddrinkinghisblood. What the hell did I miss?”

Hollen trembled, a headache cracking his skull at the seams. “I’m—uh—getting my job back.” Hollen kept his voice low, but he could tell Munro still heard him from the way he paused, his smile faltering. “Sorry,” said Hollen, much louder so Munro could easily hear him. He pulled away, slowly standing from the bed on wobbly feet. His gut rolled as George seemed to settle there, the blood cold and curdling in his gut. “I’m feeling a lot better now. Any chance you could take me home?”

Munro narrowed his eyes, unashamedly staring at Hollen’s naked body. “Did I do something to upset you?”

Hollen clasped his hands in front of him, glancing around for his clothes. “I think I overstayed my welcome.” He put a hand to his head as it throbbed. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t want to intrude any longer.”

On the far side of the room, he spotted his clothes crumpled in the corner, his shirt from the club still sparkling with bits of glitter that would probably never come off. The warmth of the air had sweat trickling down his back, the long black pants looking way too heavy to pull on.

Hollen averted his eyes as Munro stood, his boxers leaving nothing to the imagination. There was a deep pang of disappointment when he realized that Munro hadn’t been naked at all the entire time.

“Of course.” Munro closed the distance, brushing his fingers over Hollen’s cheek. “But will you promise to come back to me tomorrow?” Munro bit his lip, one vicious tooth on display.

When George grumbled in his head, Hollen did his best to ignore him. “I’ll be here. I promise.”

Chapter Twelve

Munro

Munro stared at the closed apartment door, his palm still tingling from where Hollen had clasped his only a minute before. He probably seemed strange lurking in the hallway, gazing at the chipped paint on cheap wood for longer than was healthy.

There was a lot of trust to showing someone where you lived. Now he knew where Hollen slept, where he ate, and presumably where he spent most of his day when sunlight ruled the city. Behind the flimsy barrier, Hollen was free tobe.

But I suppose I showed him my room first.He’d done everything backward. He was supposed to be the one who called the shots—the one in control. But Hollen had stripped him of that in moments.

He looked to his hands. They had paled over the centuries as he found less reasons to stroll beneath the sunlight, drinking cool sips of water just to keep hydrated. People and ages came and went the same way they always had, and it did so little to tempt him.But Hollen…

First the kiss, then the blood. It had been such a spur of the moment thing that Munro hadn’t thought of it for more than a split second before he’d sliced his own tongue to give Hollen a taste. He was fed from all the time—days before Rhys had beencarving his teeth into his neck while bringing himself release. This shouldn’t have been any different.

But itwas.

He let out a soft sigh before turning away from the door. The apartment was shockingly close to the teahouse, and it had only taken him about twenty minutes to escort Hollen home after he’d found one of his own shirts for Hollen to wear. The fabric had dwarfed him, but a strange possessive anxiety had churned in Munro’s gut.

It had been a long time since he’d had something truly for himself that didn’t wilt and die the moment he made himself trulyknown.There was a yearning within him focused with such precise obsession that it was almost calming.

A woman passed him by as he exited onto the street, not sparing him a single glance. Most didn’t notice him—they weren’t meant to. It wasn’t magic, but more of an illusion that he could wrap around himself to avoid looks and slip from someone’s memory as easily as a passing thought.

Why did I give him my blood?He licked his lips, chasing the sweet taste that Hollen had left behind. There was still the metallic taint of his own blood, along with that darkness that seemed to linger on everything Hollen touched. It was so intoxicating that apparently he had lost his mind to it, giving Hollen something that meant so much.

Blood waslife. Rhys took it regularly, sipping away at Munro’s soul like a warm drink. But to give it to someone so entirely…mortal was something he’d never considered. There was nothing in it for Hollen except for the taste, which he probably hadn’t acquired.Why did I do it?

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