Page 10 of Fanged Temptation

I paused, groaned, and turned on my heel, stomping back to the elevator and hanging my head in shame. I was distracted today – monstrously so to have managed that glaring oversight. All because ofher, all thanks to that lingering ache from my confrontation with Leah.

I didn’t know if I’d call it a fight, exactly. It wasn’t loud or overly dramatic, but it left me feeling hollow. Leah’s words had stuck, looping in my head like a bad catchphrase: ‘Try harder.’

I grimaced, shying away from that enduring seed of guilt in my chest.

By the time the elevatordingedmy arrival at the lobby floor, I had slid the last of the documents into their rightful place in my file and banished the encounter from my mind. The alluring scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air and I followed it like a moth to a flame, craving that bitter cup of pick-me-up to survive the day.

The little coffee stand tucked in the corner of the lobby was my favorite haunt. Vampires didn’t need coffee, technically, but it was one of the few human beverages we could indulge in and most of us found the ritual rather comforting.

Two Leyore employees were already there, casually docked against the coffee stand, deep in conversation. I hovered nearby, balancing my elbows on the wooden countertop and squinting at the chalkboard menu – all the while keeping one ear tuned to their chat.

“…left babbling in terror,” one of them was whispering, low and conspiratorial.

“Who?” the other asked, fisting a hand at her chest like she was clutching imaginary pearls.

“Jenson. A Leyore noble, too. They found him in his apartment, ranting about some man in a hat.”

I stiffened, gouging a small valley in the countertop with one manicured nail.

“A man in a hat? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No idea. But he was terrified. Like,actuallyterrified. They tried questioning him, but he just kept mumbling the same thing over and over. He’s practically catatonic now.”

The woman clicked her tongue. “That’s… unsettling. The highborn vampires don’t scare easily.”

“Exactly. Whatever happened to him, it wasn’t normal.”

I filed the information away, making a mental note to bring it up with Jordan later. Anything that could shake an ancient vampire to his core was worth investigating. My mind fluttered back to that morning in my apartment, and the mysterious man watching me from the street. A man in a bowler hat…

The conversation beside me shifted and I shook my head abruptly, clearing the unsettling image from my mind, though I kept listening out of habit.

“…heard about Liesle? She’s having an affair. WithDarius.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“How scandalous.”

“I know. And get this – rumor has it someone’s been stealing money from the Duvall family vault.”

I smirked, biting back a chuckle. Vampires loved their gossip, and High Stakes was a goldmine of juicy tidbits.

I quietly ordered my coffee, smiling at the barista while I mentally pieced together the threads of the stories they were spinning. Liesle’s affair was old news to me, but the theft from the Duvall vault caught my attention.

The Duvalls were connected to the Belmonte family –my family– through some convoluted web of alliances and bloodlines. If someone was stealing from them, it wasn’t just a crime; it was a scandal that sent ripples through the entire swarm of vampire elites.

I tucked the information away, adding it to the tangled map of connections I’d been quietly maintaining. It wasn’t a perfect system, more like a web of whispers and half-truths, but it was enough to keep tabs on my estranged family – the Belmontes.They were all pompous, highborn, well-known, and as such, their every move was fodder for gossip.

The barista handed me a steaming cup of coffee and I swirled the dark liquid under my nose. The sting at the thought of my family had long since faded. They were not my family anymore. Now it was more of a dull ache, like an old wound that had not healed quite right.

I harbored no love for my family, and I was fairly uninterested in stories of their antics that trickled down to me through the grapevine. But the thing about collecting gossip was that it was never just entertainment – it was leverage. And leverage, in the vampire world, was power.

It was a survival tactic in a world where information was everything.

“Maxine! There you are.” My musing was momentarily disrupted when Jordan sauntered over, heels clipping on the tiled floors and her perpetually messy locks swinging at her back. Hunter trailed after her, exuding her usual air of blasé indifference.

“You–” I poked an accusatory finger at Jordan’s chest, lifting the leatherbound file in my free hand. “It took me all morning to reorganize your shoddy filing work.”

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