Page 86 of Bite
I absorb her warning in silence, thoughts spinning a mile a minute.
Anna traces a fingertip along her donor bracelet. “You should get out while you still can, Taylor. Vamps only care about one thing, and that’s blood. If yours is valuable–”
Her words abruptly cut off at the sound of voices in the hall, my stomach knotting as her warning ricochets through my skull. Anna straightens, face smoothing into polite neutrality, while I’m so shaken that I barely manage to school my expression before the men enter.
“Well, what do you think?” James asks as he strolls into the room, his suit jacket gone and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to the elbows. “Eli mentioned that you like books.”
“I do,” Anna replies politely, bowing her head. “You have a lovely library.”
I have no idea how she’s putting on such an air of civility while I’m over here feeling like I could scream or cry or throw up.
Elliott follows James into the room, shooting me a glance that almost seems apologetic before stepping over to join Anna at the bookshelf. James redirects his attention my way, and I try my hardest to act normal as he advances in my direction.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he drawls, sliding an arm around my waist and drawing me in close.
I want to say no. I want to demand to know what he’s hiding, why he’s suddenly changed and let another vampire into our home; into my veins. Instead, I just say, “Of course.”
He nods, as if that’s all he hoped for.
I stand there, waiting for him to say something more, to say anything at all… but he doesn’t. He offers Elliott another drink, then crosses the room to pour it.
As I watch him lift a crystal decanter, his forearms flex beneath the rolled sleeves of his white shirt, my eyes catching on a tiny stain at his elbow. Red wine, maybe… though it looks suspiciously like blood.
A low hum of warning threads through me, fight or flight instincts kicking in. Though even as they do, I get the distinct, sinking feeling that whatever’s happening, I’m already in too deep… and there’s no way this ends well.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Ican practically taste the money in the air as I stand beneath a glittering chandelier in the grand ballroom of the Orpheum hotel, the stems of a million crystal droplets humming above my head. My slinky red dress clings in all the right places– at least according to the team of stylists who spent three hours prepping me– and I swear the fabric is magic with the way it seems to shimmer and vanish depending on how it catches the light.
I’ve already polished off two glasses of champagne, the bubbles prickling my tongue as I watch the endless swirl of bodies around me. Vampires in tuxedos and gowns; donors dressed up in every flavor of red. I haven’t seen so many beautiful people in one place since the last donor gala I attended– or so many predators.
For the past hour, I’ve been pretending not to be bothered by the weight of stares from those who’d like to be me, devour me, or kill me. This isn’t the first event I’ve attended as James Devereaux’s shiny new donor, but I’m still not used to the attention being on his arm garners. I doubt I’ll ever be.
The vampire king hasn’t left my side all night. He’s dressed in one of his expensive suits– crisp black with burgundy lapels– the tailored lines making him look both lethal and obscenelyexpensive. His hand rests possessively at my hip, and every time I shift my weight, he adjusts with me, as if we’re locked together by an invisible thread.
I hate how much I like it.
Since Dr. Faulkner’s visit, we’ve slowly fallen back into our old patterns. He feeds, then fucks me into oblivion, making me come so hard that I forget all the reasons why I shouldn’t trust him. I’m probably playing the world’s most dangerous game of chicken, but I can’t control how damn attracted I am to James Devereaux. Despite everything, I still want him; still come apart beneath his touch every time.
If he’s the king of vamps, I’m the queen of bad decisions.
My eyes glaze over as I stare out at the dance floor, contemplating how the hell I got tangled up in this mess to begin with. It was just supposed to be about money, but now…god, it’s so much more than that. Way more than I have the emotional bandwidth to process.
“Are you alright?” James murmurs, the low rumble of his voice vibrating through me. He’s leaning in so close that I can feel his lips against my ear when he speaks, but tonight, it doesn’t send a chill down my spine. It feels…safe.
Or maybe I’m just drunk enough to believe it.
“I’m great,” I chirp, draining the rest of my champagne in a single gulp and flicking a glance up at him over my shoulder. “Who wouldn’t want to spend an evening as arm candy for the King of the Undead?”
His lips curve in a rare smile. “You know that’s not my title, darling.”
I set the empty glass down on a passing waiter’s tray, then fold my arms across my chest, aching for something solid to hold onto.Like him.
“It should be,” I fire back. “It rolls off the tongue a lot easier than the Latin version.Sanga…” I trail off before I can butcher the pronunciation.
“Sanguinis Rex,” he supplies, voice silky smooth.
