Page 16 of Taste of Forever
I considered that, but it didn’t feel right. The all-human community on the fringes of vampire territory was, franklyput, weird as hell. Cultish, even. They shunned any kind of integration with vampire society, despite the many other humans living well among us. Tavia and Amy had been lucky to get out. They had both found their mates and now seemed extremely content with their lives.
I could make someone content too. Even happy.
If my mate was cut from the same cloth as Tavia and Amy, she could possibly be from Sapien. But those two seemed to be the exception, not the norm.
“I don’t know,” I said to Des. “My gut doesn’t really feel like she’s one of them.”
“The only thing your gut knows is wine and cherry danishes.”
“Hey, I’m picky about my wine!” He was right about the danishes, though. I was one of the few vampires with a sweet tooth.
“Everyone loves Tavia’s wine, doesn’t mean you’re picky.”
“Well I can definitely tell when one isn’t made by her.” My foot started bouncing again, so I stood from the bench. “Come on. Let’s leave before Thorne makes good on his threat to peel my skin off with the road.”
“Never thought I’d see the day.” Des hopped up and followed me down the sidewalk. “Now where we going? Gonna stalk women at the market?”
I chewed on that thought and let it go just as quickly. “Nah. I don’t think she buys food there.”
Des guffawed. “How in Temkra’s name would you know that? You don’t know a single thing about her.”
“It just doesn’t feel right to me.” I shrugged. “Maybe it’s her blood telling me. I’ve fed from a few humans from around here and she doesn’t taste like any of them. She tastes?—“
“Like night-blooming flowers, cherry danishes, and an orgasm in your mouth. Yeah, I know. You’ve only gone on and on about how she tastes nonstop for the past two days.”
I smirked. “Can perfection ever be adequately described with simple metaphors?”
“Well, hold on, Shakespeare. That poses another question.” Des popped another darakt gummy in his mouth. “If she doesn’t shop at the market, is she not from around here? Maybe Shadowburn or the human world?”
I considered the human world, but the chances were slim. It was rare that a human stumbled into the supernatural world with zero previous contact. Most of them weren’t sensitive to the magic that kept our world hidden, having never been exposed to it before. The majority of humans in Sanguine had been here for generations and chose to stay.
“More likely Sapien, where they grow their own food,” I conceded. “Or one of the forbidden territories. Maybe she got sick of angels and werewolves, or she’s escaping them.”
“Great, just what we need. Werewolves on our asses for sniffing out one of their humans.”
“I really don’t know, though.” I ran a hand through my hair, tugging the short strands at the base of my skull. “The blood bank was the only place I knew where to start looking. Beyond that, I’m fucking clueless.”
Forget finding a needle in a haystack. I was trying to find a needle among needles. It just needed to bemyneedle.
“Wait a second.” Des grabbed my shoulder, pivoting around to stand in front of me. His eyes were dilated, probably as a result of the darakt gummies. “We’ve been doing this all wrong. We’ve got to Cinderella this shit.”
I stared at him for a beat. “I don’t follow.”
“Cinderella!” he repeated. “You know, the whole deal with the glass shoe? She had to run off before midnight because she’d turn into a banana tree or something, but she left one glass shoe behind.”
“Okay?”
He slapped my chest. “The prince didn’t get her name, and I think it was a masquerade ball or something because they danced all night and he didn’t know what she looked like. The glass shoe was the only thing he had of hers.”
“So?”
“So! Only his dream woman would fit into that shoe, right?”
“Unless another woman was the same size.”
“Not the point. Just go with me here. Everyone wants to marry a prince, right?”
I shrugged. “Can’t say it’s my thing, and I don’t want to speak for anyone else?—“
