Page 23 of Tempting the Fae Lord
I back up a step.
“More than that.”
I back up five more steps.
He huffs and turns his attention to the gate. He murmurs words too quiet for me to pick up, let alone memorize in order to repeat someday. Then he grasps the bar with his bloody fist and winces.
Hinges squeal as the gate shudders open wide enough for him to slip through after he utters a few parting words. “Be safe, Mooncalf.”
“You too.”
The sliver I glimpse before he disappears to the other side glows golden, as if lit by numerous oil sconces. I sniff, but no discernible smell comes through. No sound either. Before I can creep forward for a better look, the gate closes with a booming clang that makes me jump. And he’s gone.
Staring at the black iron bars, I wilt.
Until a spicy metallic scent flares in my nostrils. A wallop of fresh energy zings through my veins.
That smell! It’s familiar somehow, though I don’t know why.
It’s his blood. On the bars. On the ground. In the snow. A crimson stain melting through winter’s white veil.
The aroma is alluring, like the promise of whispered secrets, like the moment before a kiss. My mouth waters, and a terribly frightening urge erupts within me.
I couldn’t.
I have to.
Before I’ve even made the decision, I’m bending toward the shiny red stain, mouth open, tongue out.
Licking his blood from the gate should repulse me, but the opposite is true. It’s divine. Like the crisp snap of a bite of apple on a warm afternoon.
Only better.
I savor the taste. Is this what it’s like to be a vampire? Because I love it.
When there’s none left on the iron, I scrabble to my knees and bend to lap up the red snow until nothing but pure white remains. My whole body tingles with excitement and pleasure coursing through every muscle, every joint, every nerve ending.
I flop over to my back and stare, wide-eyed, at the night sky. Each twirling star seems to wink at me, as though they’re in on the high his blood stirs in my mind.
I wink back for good measure, laughing at myself, at how crazy this is, at the face he’d make if he could see me now.
Mooncalf, I imagine him saying,What have you done now? I leave you alone for but a moment, and foolishness overtakes you.He’d be haughty about it, but underneath any scolding, the amusement would shine through in his eyes, as it always does.
I giggle.
Breath by breath, I come down from…whatever that was.
Is that what Ezra feels like when he drinks blood? I hope not. The thought of him buzzing like that over Chester irks me.
And why doesn’t he like to use his proper name? It’s a lovely name. Ezra. Suits him. I need to ask Eulayla about it when I get the chance.
Cold and wet begins to sink into my clothes. I roll over and climb to my feet.
Ah, well, this opportunity at the gate has come and gone, but the canyon of my curiosity only grows wider.
True to my word, I return to the fortress to wait for his return. Inside, lest he make that scowly face at me once more.
Chapter Seven
