“Indulgence suits you,” I say, letting my hand fall to her thigh beneath the table, casual but deliberate. I watch her pupils flare, her breath catch, that familiar shiver ripple through her.
Stunning.
“I’m glad you went out,” I add, tone silky. “You should do it more often. I have a standing arrangement with most of the luxury retailers in the city, you could buy out an entire store if you wanted.”
She tries not to smile, but her lips betray her. “Maybe next time.”
“Definitely next time,” Bex says, raising her glass to Taylor. “I plan to live vicariously through you for the foreseeable future. And speaking of…” she turns back to me with the focus of a child about to interrogate Santa. “Can I ask you something? Actually, I have like a million questions.”
“Only a million?” I scoff, amused. “Fire away.”
Her grin widens. “Can you turn into a bat?”
“No,” I reply flatly.
“Can you fly?”
Again, “No.”
“Are you allergic to garlic?”
I take a lazy sip of my drink. “I’m Sicilian. I’d starve without it.”
That earns a chuckle. Bex takes another sip of her margarita, then asks, “Do you have a reflection?”
“Yes.”
“And you can walk in the sun?”
I take another swallow of the shitty whiskey. “Sunlight is irritating, not fatal.”
Bex squints, unconvinced. “Whatdoeskill you then?”
I hold her gaze, smile turning cold. “Decapitation. Or having one’s heart torn out, which is the less pleasant option.”
“Noted,” she mumbles, undaunted. “And what about stakes through the heart? Is that real, or just Hollywood bullshit?”
“Technically, that would kill anyone. But it’s a lot messier with us. You’d have to be strong enough to get through the bone, and most humans aren’t.”
Bex seems delighted by that tidbit, but Taylor just shakes her head, lips twitching with a smile she’s trying hard to hide. I take the opportunity to tighten my grip on her thigh, sliding my hand a fraction higher. Her pulse jumps, breath catching– but she doesn’t move away.
“So whatareyour weaknesses, then?” Bex asks, still not satisfied.
I flash her a wicked grin. “Who says we have any?”
“Come on, there has to be something,” she presses. “Otherwise you’d be the ones running things.”
I cock a brow. “Who says we aren’t?”
She frowns, clearly unamused by the way I’m answering her questions with more questions. “If you were, then why the hell would you outlaw feeding from a living source?”
“Because the underground blood economy is much more profitable,” I reply coolly. “It’s simple supply and demand. Humans see the law as a victory– they feel safer with it in place. And for us, it means fewer messes to clean up. Less conflict. It keeps the system balanced and allows coexistence to continue without interruption.”
Her brow furrows, nose scrunching as she thinks it through. “Why not just cut through the red tape and turn everyone into vampires, then?”
“We require human blood to survive,” I deadpan. “An abundance of humans ensures we never go hungry or fight one another for resources. And fewer vampires means fewer rivals, fewer power struggles. Like I said, balance.”
She nods slowly. “That makes sense, I guess.”