Page 17 of Taste of Forever
“Anyway,they put it out to the entire kingdom that the prince was looking for the owner of this shoe. And the women flocked in droves to try it on because they wanted their chance at becoming a princess. You see where I’m going with this?”
“Not really,” I admitted. “Seems dishonest. Those women had to know the shoe wasn’t theirs.”
“Dude!” Dez slapped my shoulder, then poked me with his index finger. “You’re the prince in this scenario. Part of Blood ‘til Dawn, the ruling clan of Sanguine. You’re a catch. Lots of women would love to be your mate.”
“Aw, thanks buddy. But I only want one person.”
“Obviously,” he snorted. “Bringing the women to us is just an easier process of elimination. We don’t have to go all over the territory. We put the word out and let them come to us instead. And, hopefully, your mate is among them.”
I nodded, scratching my chin. “That would make it easier. But what’s my glass shoe?”
“The taste of her blood. And the window of time she was at the blood bank.” Des gave me a sympathetic look. “But to make sure, you’ll probably have to feed from some women who are definitely not her.”
The thought made me shudder, but he had a point. If my blood mate changed her nail polish or her strange tattoo wasn’t visible, the taste of her blood would be the only way of knowing.
“That’s fine. I’ll do whatever it takes to find her. So how do we do this? The text alert system?”
“Yeah, and word of mouth. We’ll be very specific about the criteria.”
“Good.” I nodded, feeling optimistic for the first time since her flavor danced over my tongue. “The blood bank has, what, a dozen donors at any given time? There aren’t that many people it could possibly be.”
“Huh, famous last words.”
“Why do you say that?”
Des pointed at me again. “Youmay not want to marry a prince. But do not underestimate the amount of human women who do.”
Chapter 5
Heather
All week during work, while running tests on crime scene evidence and compiling toxicology reports, I couldn’t stop thinking about vampires.
Well, one vampire in particular. The one that bit me.
And how I wouldn’t mind being bitten by him again.
Just him, though. No one else.
There was something about that whole experience, and my reaction, that felt too intimate to share with anyone else.
Just as quickly as my daydreams took me back there, guilt would snap me back to reality. I had a serious, long-term boyfriend, for shit’s sake. I had zero reason or excuse to be fantasizing about another person. Especially someone whose face I had never seen. Someone who wasn’t even human.
Justin and I were doing better this week, which made me feel even guiltier. I could tell he felt bad about blowing me off that night I came home from Sanguine. There were little things I noticed, like setting the timer on the coffee maker to start brewing when I got up for work. The laundry I’d been nagging about finally got sorted, washed, dried, and put away.
When I came home from work at six a.m., he’d pull his headphones aside, say, “Hey babe. How was it?” and we’d get ready for bed together.
One morning while we’d been brushing our teeth before bed, he took hold of my wrist and examined the two puncture wounds that had begun to scab over.
“What happened there?” He’d asked, concern in his tone.
My mind stuttered with a rush of panic and guilt. I’d never expected him to notice or care. How fucked up was that? This was my partner, the man I loved. Here he was, expressing worry over my injury and it shocked me into scrambling for an answer.
“Oh! Just…hit a thorny bush on a hike.”
I’d never been good at lying. My already-heavy guilt folded over on itself, doubling in mass and density. If Justin sensed my bullshit, he didn’t comment on it.
He’d fall asleep immediately when we went to bed together, which meant sex still wasn’t happening. Still, these quiet, domestic moments were the most intimacy I’d had in recent months.
