Page 54 of Soren

And so here Soren was, enduring all this barhopping and empty flirting, just to lure Hendrick’s attention and to hopefully get that attention off Gabe, if it had ever been on him in the first place. But at this point, Soren was starting to think he’d only imagined Hendrick’s face the other night. He was too used to fearing it in every corner; apparently, he’d started conjuring it.

Soren took another sip of his vodka soda, trying to find it in himself to search the bar for someone to make exaggerated eyes at. It was hard to focus on the present, when all his current actions were fixated on the past.

The start of Soren’s new existence hadn’t been so bad.

More confusing than anything. He didn’t even really remember dying. There had been a voice in the darkness, a sharp bite of pleasure, and then unbearable agony. But that had only been for a moment—Soren had lost consciousness fairly quickly.

After all, other than hunger pangs, he’d never really known pain before, at that point in his life.

The real pain would come later.

“You’re awake, angel?”

Soren opened his eyes to a dimly lit room. He was in a bed much softer than any he’d ever been in before, the silky texture of the sheets against his skin a foreign sensation.

There was a handsome man sitting beside him, his hair a few shades darker than Soren’s own, big and broad and dressed in fine clothes.

Soren blinked. Angel? Had the man been referring to him? “Where am I?”

The big man smiled at him, all teeth. It couldn’t have exactly been called a warm smile, but Soren had seen worse. “You’re home,” he answered, as if it were obvious.

“This isn’t my home.”

It definitely wasn’t. Where Soren lived wasn’t nearly as nice as this. His family were peasants, and he was the fourth of six children—they rarely had enough food to put on the table, let alone silver to set it with.

Another toothy smile. “It is now. I’ve been watching you, little Soren. We’ve even met before, though I made sure you wouldn’t remember. I know the things you crave.”

Soren doubted that. Besides the fact that they had definitely never met…this man couldn’t possibly know what he craved. No one knew who Soren dreamed of at night, the men he dreamed of touching.

So Soren kept silent, not wanting to give anything away. More than that, he was…distracted. There was a buzzing under his skin. An itching for something, and he didn’t know what. It was building and growing to an overwhelming degree every moment he was awake.

“Ah.” The man gave him a knowing look. “You must be hungry. Don’t worry, I’ve brought someone for you.”

He gestured to the corner, where a woman with a blank look on her face was sitting with unnatural stillness. “Don’t worry,” the man said gently. “She won’t fight you. You can let it out.”

Soren didn’t know what the stranger meant. Let what out? He didn’t move.

“Here,” the man offered. “I’ll help you.”

He moved impossibly quickly to the woman’s side, pushing back her sleeve and baring her wrist. He bent over it, broad shoulders hunched, and his dark-blond hair swept over his face, hiding it from view.

Soren very quickly began to smell blood.

Only…blood had never smelled soenticingbefore. The familiar metallic notes, yes, but also a richness…a spice…

Why did it smell so good? Soren’s breath hitched as he felt a change come over him. That overwhelming sensation grew and grew until he felt somethingothercome to the forefront.

Himself but not himself.

And then he was up and across the room, and his mouth was covering that gentle river of blood, and he was drinking deeply. Big, greedy swallows.

“Good,” the man murmured from his place at Soren’s side. “Very good. We’re going to do well together, angel.”

Soren licked his bloody lips. “Who are you?”

That toothy smile became even more sinister with fangs glinting in the candlelight. “I’m your new master, angel. You can call me Hendrick.”

Soren had killed that poor woman in the end—had drunk her dry. He’d been too new and too hungry to know any better, and Hendrick had been in no rush to teach him proper control. Humans were expendable to the older vampire. He’d been completely unbothered by Soren’s excess, by any destruction left in their wake.

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