Page 22 of Taste of Forever
I shook my head, suppressing a growl then rubbed my temples. “No. Next.”
Des had taken her firmly by the shoulders and turned her toward the stairs of the VIP loft. And on and on it went.
The nights had started out optimistic.Maybe this time she’ll really come,I thought.Maybe this is the night she’ll be here.I couldn’t picture her face or body, but my imagination conjured up a fuzzy fantasy. She’d waltz in and our eyes would meet. She’d smile playfully, and both of us would instantly know.
“Sorry I took so long,” she’d say.
“You’re worth the wait,” I’d answer.
Then I’d take her in my arms, Des would usher all the other women out, and we’d spend the entire night in the VIP loft getting to know each other properly before I took her back to the Blood ‘til Dawn compound. There, she would meet everyone and become friends with Tavia, Bea, and Amy. Even the surliest of us, Thorne and Rhain, would be charmed by her.
My mate would have everything she needed, whatever her hobbies and interests were. Cyan thought he was hot shit by planting a vineyard and cider orchards for Tavia? If my mate liked flying planes, I’d build her a hangar and a fucking runway. Top that, Cyan.
All I needed in return was her blood. If she ended loving me, that’d be great too. Blood mate bonds aside, I knew those feelings couldn’t be forced. I was idealistic, not naive.
But nights passed. Faces and names blurred into each other. My hope dwindled and my desperation grew. The women who approached me began to look more fearful, or at least cautious. Over time, I could feel myself devolving into a snarling, hungrybeast. My jokes and ability to carry on conversations were replaced by short, irritable words and gnashing of my fangs. My thoughts became jumbled and gaps formed in my memory.
I was fucking losing it. And the reality that I might actually die if I didn’t find her hung around my neck like an anchor.
Why didn’t she come? We put messages out as far and wide as possible, even sending feelers out into other territories and the human world. Des used a site called Craigslist and posted in the missed connections section. It sounded far-fetched to me, but he insisted it was something lots of humans used.
“Don’t worry, it’s vaguely worded. But if she reads it, she’ll know,” he said when he set it up.
“Any hits on that post?” I asked, my voice raw with hunger and exhaustion.
“No, nothing viable.” Des scrolled through his phone, his expression passive. “Lots of human men sending dick photos, though.”
“Why do they always do that?”
“No idea.” Des shook his head and shuddered. “That one definitely needs a doctor,” he muttered, swiping and deleting.
I slouched on the loveseat, ignoring the many voices of women trying to get my attention. They were nothing but noise to me. Noise and pheromones that smelled wrong. Blood that tasted wrong. My stomach gave a shuddering little gurgle at the thought of tasting another one of them tonight.
Bone marrow from a mukrot was the only thing that helped with symptoms of starvation. Marrow was rich in nutrients and, when freshly prepared by a Marrower vampire, soothed my stomach and temporarily eased the ache in my fangs. But, as a replacement for actual blood, it could only go so far.
By the fourteenth night of scenting, tasting, and being lied to by dozens of human women, I’d had enough.
I was sick of searching faces, of breathing in scents that weren’t hers. This whole fucking Cinderella thing was pointless. All it did was expose how much humans were willing to lie for their own gain.
If I was a different kind of vampire, I might take my pick. Settle for the one who tasted the least revolting. Maybe even take a few home. The days of having harems of blood pets were mostly gone but some still did it, as long as their care could be afforded and the arrangement was consensual.
But that wasn’t me. I wanted none of them.
“Fuck this,” I growled, rising to my feet.
The sudden movement startled the surrounding women, making them draw back with a collective gasp. If I were well-fed I’d apologize, crack a joke, make an effort to make them feel comfortable. But all I could feel was frustration clawing under my skin. So many unique blood sources and all of them were wrong.
On the bright side, being taller than them allowed me to suck in a lungful of fresh air. Air that wasn’t tainted by the scent of wrongness, but carried a hint of something sweet and floral.
All my senses sharpened. Iknewthat scent. How could I forget when it floated over so gently from the far side of a privacy screen, and had been accompanied by the sweetest blood I’d ever tasted?
She washere.
My jaws parted, fangs hitting their maximum length as if her scent itself could nourish me.Where is she? Where–
Movement at the corner of my eye threatened to invade my space, and I smacked it away with an animalistic snarl. There were still too many wrong scents here, threatening to overpower the right one. If only I could see her.
There.
