Page 46 of Bite
“This is Marilyn,” James quickly answers for me, using my alias.
I give Ezra a shy smile as I offer him my hand.Fake it ‘til you make it, right?
He glances down at it, then flicks a questioning look up at James, as if seeking permission. When James gives the barestnod in response, his vampire friend takes my hand, lifts it to his lips, and brushes a kiss across my knuckles.
His lips are cold and clammy– it takes everything in me not to recoil at the gesture.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marilyn,” Ezra purrs as he releases my hand. “Forgive my surprise, it’s simply… rare to see our king at one of these things with a date. And a human, no less.”
“Marilyn is my exclusive donor,” James states. His delivery is nonchalant, but the words drop like a stone in water.
I swear a hush falls over the entire room. Ezra’s brows shoot up in surprise, and his date’s mouth falls open like I’ve just sprouted wings.
“Exclusive?” he echoes, his disbelieving gaze sliding to me.
James only nods once, calm as ever.
“My,” Ezra murmurs, swiping a hand over his chin and recovering his composure. “That is… well, congratulations to you, Marilyn. What an honor.”
“Uh, thanks,” I mumble, fingers clutching tighter around my champagne flute.
Ezra turns to his companion, flashing her a sharp, performative smile. “Karina, would you mind keeping Marilyn company while I borrow the king for a moment to discuss business?”
“Of course,” the blonde replies breathily, beaming a smile up at him before shifting her attention my way.
James glances at me once– just a brief flick of those piercing blue eyes– but I swear it almost feels like he doesn’t want to leave. His palm lands on the small of my back and he leans down, mouth right beside my ear as he murmurs, “Try not to get eaten alive while I’m gone.”
I fight an eye roll, sipping my champagne as the men turn away and disappear into the crowd. The second James is gone,Ifeelit. Without his massive presence at my side, I’m suddenly too exposed, vulnerable, on display.
Karina’s smile falters the instant her own date disappears. She drops all pretense, her green-eyed gaze sharpening as she sizes me up. “How the hell didyouland James Devereaux?” she scoffs, upper lip curling like she’s tasted something sour.
By the way she delivers the question, it’s clear that my benefactor isn’t the one who’s put a bad taste in her mouth. She’s already measured me; decided that I’m undeserving of a place beside the most powerful man in the room.
I take another lazy sip of champagne to prevent myself from throwing it in her face. The bubbles tickle my throat on the way down, buying me a moment to consider how the hell to respond to her rude ass question. I settle on the path of least resistance, pasting on a smile as fake as her tits. “Just lucky, I guess.”
Karina narrows her eyes on me, cruel and calculative. Then she flips her blonde hair over a shoulder, beckoning a couple of other women over to join us with a dramatic wave. They glide across the marble floor in their sequined dresses, circling up like vultures.
The next thing I know, I’m trapped in a storm of polite smiles and sharp stares as they introduce themselves. They’re all human– donors, like me– and questions start flying my way fast, some trivial, some pointed.
How long have you known him?
Do you live on the estate?
How long is your contract for?
What’s he really like?
I answer where I can and shrug where I can’t, but it’s no use. Their eyes cut sharper than knives, and I realize they don’t even need to know me to dislike me.
I wish Bex was here.
As the conversation shifts toward idle gossip, my eyes drift around the room in search of James. I don’t find him, but Idospot another familiar face.
Lucien’s dark eyes lock with mine across the ballroom, and in the next blink, he’s headed straight for me. Memories hit like a lightning strike: the heat of his lips against my skin, the way my blood hummed when he drank from me, the strange mix of shame and desire I carried all the way home. Lucien was my first introduction to this world, and he left a hell of an impression.
“Marilyn,” he drawls as he approaches, dressed in a sharp black suit and flashing a smile that’s all teeth. “What a pleasant surprise.”
The girls’ idle chatter immediately quiets, their attention shifting to me and Lucien, but I barely notice. I’m too caught up in the gravitational pull of memory, eager for any excuse to leave the hellish circle of mean girls.
