Page 45 of Taste of Forever
“Oh, no?”
“No!” Anger flared inside me. “I have a boyfriend. You know that.”
“A boyfriend isn’t a husband. Certainly not ablood mate,” he added mockingly.
At that moment, I was having a really hard time remembering why punching people was illegal.
“Well, regardless, I’m not a cheater.”
“Look, all of that is fascinating and all, but my employers are looking for more...useful information.”
I frowned. “Can you be more specific?”
“How long do vampires actually live? Are they impervious to diseases and cancers? Do they have superhuman abilities and, if so, what are they? Do they have advanced weapons or other technology that we don’t have?”
I blew out a breath, rubbing my temples. “It’s gonna take time for me to build up to that. I can’t just grill him about vampire strengths and weaknesses. He’ll get suspicious.”
“I dunno.” Soren’s gaze was scrutinizing. “You’ve got a pretty face and tasty blood, apparently. I’m sure he’s willing to tell you all kinds of things. I bet the more you give him, the more he’ll talk.”
The disgust was clear on my face, but I didn’t bother arguing. What was the point? Soren just laughed. He was already the lowest of the low—invading my privacy, putting his hands on me, making me do his dirty work and suggesting I whore myself out for information. God, I couldn’t wait until he was out of my life for good.
He rapped his knuckles on the table before standing up. “Break time’s over, Heather. Oh, and by the way, my superiors are breathing down my neck for this intel so we’ve got to move up the deadline. You’ve got two months now.”
“Two months?!”
He slammed his palms down as he leaned over the table, pure menace in his expression. “Keep your fucking voice down.”
I shrank back, remembering the painful strength in his fingers from when he grabbed me. And just as quickly, he straightened with a cold smile.
“Better get back to work, Heather.”
He left the room and I spent the rest of my shift jumpy and unable to focus. What the hell was I supposed to do? It was uncomfortable enough leading Laith on as much as I was. The last thing I wanted to do was full-on seduce him to make him trust me, but Soren wasn’t giving me much of a choice.
While running tests and typing up reports, all I could think about was how to learn all of the vampire’s secrets in two months. Without sleeping with Laith and outright agreeing to be his blood mate.
You could always tell him the truth,said a voice that sounded suspiciously like my resentment demon.
The memory of Laith’s words followed soon after.Whoever is doing this, they’re no match against me. I can promise you that. Not only am I a vampire, I’m part of the ruling clan of Sanguine. We’re powerful and we protect our people.
I had to admit, it was tempting to give in. To let the gorgeous vampire swoop in and rescue me from everything. Tonotfight the pleasure that surged through me every time he fed from me. Would it really be so bad to leave everything behind?
The thought was especially tempting as my shift crawled to its end, knowing home was not the soft landing it had once been.
When I came to work tonight, I had planned on talking to Justin when I got home. I wanted to ask him how work was going, and see what his reaction was. If he tried to dodge the question, I’d straight out ask him if he still had a job. It would most likely lead to a fight and I wanted to be mentally prepared for it.
Then Soren had found me. And now, as I prepared to leave work, I wanted nothing more than to crawl under my bedsheets when I got home and hide.
I swapped out my lab coat for my cardigan at my locker, then checked my phone to see that I had a text from Justin. My breath stopped for a moment when I opened it.
Justin: Hey, I got pastries from the bakery. Had a late night, so I’ll probably be asleep when you get home. Love you.
My frayed edges softened as I reread the message. It was...sweet. Both the message and the fact that he picked up baked goods. I hadn’t usedsweetto describe Justin in a long time. Maybe home could be a soft place to land after all.
I unlocked the front door twenty minutes later to a quiet, dark apartment. My stomach growled at the faint, lingeringscent of sugar and flaky pastry crust. Seeing Soren at work had rattled me so much that I never ate lunch.
I went to the fridge and pulled out the white cardboard box. A whispered, “Fuck yeah,” left my mouth when I opened the lid and saw the cherry Danish. My favorite.
After a few seconds of warming in the microwave, that Danish was washed down with a glass of milk, and I felt a little bit better.
