Page 43 of A Sip of Sin

Munro looked up, his gaze locked at the entrance beyond the dining room as the first few of his kind stepped through the door. They moved to a table without word or direction. When they saw him hovering at the door, they gave a bow, one dipping much lower than the other.

He gave them a curt nod, freezing as the door swung wide again. His stomach flipped, but not in the same way it had for Hollen.

Leaving the kitchen behind, he stormed to the door, his hands shaking by the time he reached Rhys. Hollen’s soft voice as he spoke with Sean pushed him on faster, until he blocked Rhys from taking another step.

Rhys had lost his usual attire of half-naked, standing in a T-shirt and track pants that had a small rip in the knee. His eyes were bright as he peered around the room, barely sparing Munro a second glance with his fangs and claws on display.

It was the most aggressive Munro had seen him in a long time.

“I told you not to return,” said Munro, keeping his voice level and shifting so he was between Rhys and Hollen. There was still the murmur of his voice from the kitchen. Hopefully, Hollen wouldn’t find any excuse to pop his head out here.

The two vampires who had just sat down looked their way, leaning closer to their table as their green tea arrived. Fresh spices filled the air, but they didn’t reach for their cups. A bit of gossip went a long way in their world of monotony.

Rhys held up his hands, his gaze now locked on Munro. “I only came to apologize, Covi.” There was blood on his breath—a cloying scent that was all too familiar. Munro knew that scent and exactly who it belonged to.

He glanced toward the kitchen where Hollen was working on the other side of the wall, taking over her role so seamlessly that her empty apartment had not alarmed Munro in the slightest until now.

“I don’t think you did,” said Munro, taking a step back. The back of his shirt clung to him as the hairs on his arms raised on end. “Leave.”

The room shifted, and Munro clenched his hands into fists, stiffening as Rhys looked over his shoulder. A smile stretched over his lips as Hollen’s scent grew thicker, mixed with the deepness of tea as he carried some to another table, which would soon be occupied.

“I see I wasn’t the only one who was having fun.” Rhys let out a low laugh, licking at his exposed fangs. “It looks like you only left him enough to stay alive. He must’ve been delicious.” He stepped closer to Munro, heat radiating from him. Munro could see his excitement through his loose clothes, power radiating from him.

“I will end you.” Munro raised his voice, his fury boiling over.

The dining room went silent, Hollen freezing with teacups in his hands.

Rhys only laughed. “After centuries together, you’re going to choose a pathetic blood bag over me? I’ve been a friend to you—a lover. I saved your life more times than I can count—”

“And yet, every moment means nothing.” Munro’s chest ached as he said it, his eyes burning. It was so painfully true, smacking the air with a crack of pure voltage. “I never should have brought you into my life. You took every monstrous part of me and twisted it to your desires.”

Rhys withdrew as if he’d been slapped. He narrowed his eyes, curling his lips back over his teeth. “You’re going to regret this. I can’t believe you’re doing this to me after all I’ve done.”

“I’m sure I will,” said Munro.

Rhys let out a growl, casting one last glance at Hollen before he spun on his heels. “Get out of my way!” He pushed the newest patrons aside as they stepped through the door, warm air following him into the night.

Chapter Seventeen

Hollen

He leaned heavily against the counter, his fingertips slipping against the surface as sweat oozed from him. He’d been flashing hot and cold all night, his ears pounding in the worst moments, and his heart beating fast every time he carried something that was more than a few pounds.

Pure adrenalin was the only thing keeping him going, snapping him awake every time he nearly fell or when he accidentally poured hot water over his wrist instead of inside the pot.

“Go home,” said George, his calm voice slipping between his thoughts. Hollen grasped onto it, struggling to hold onto the tray in his hands. His fingers were almost numb, the tips more sensitive than should have been possible.

“So you can hit on my best friend?” Hollen shook his head, forcing a huff through his lips. “You know I have to stay the whole night if I’m going to be able to pay rent this month. I’ve used up all my favors, and I’m not going to ask another one of Munro.”

He was already behind, and the landlord would be knocking in a few days if he didn’t cough up the money. A note had alreadybeen slipped under his door, which he’d managed to crumple up before Adair saw it.

“You okay?” asked Sean as Hollen grasped another plate, balancing the fancy tray with sheer willpower. His hand trembled, the glasses on it jingling as he shook. Each set had a different design, more often flowers and roses than anything sinful.

Hollen took a deep breath, blinking away the cloudiness in his vision. “I’m fine.”

One moment he was on his feet, food in hand, and the next he was on his knees, glass tinkling as it shattered over the kitchen floor. He couldn’t feel his arms or his legs, only a distant tingling in his fingers as his vision wavered.

Sean was at his side, his voice muffled by the noise in his ears. When Hollen let out a whooshing breath, his lungs ached, screaming for air. He dragged in a breath as deep as he could, but it did nothing.

---