Page 21 of Fated Mates and Where to Find Them

Max put a hand to the side of his neck. “He’d ravaged the area here so badly it took surgery to piece it back together. An anonymous donor heard my story and paid for plastic surgery so I wouldn’t be scarred for the rest of my life. Well, not physically.”

If Zander’d had a target handy, he would have murdered it with ruthless efficiency. The anger in his eyes was akin to last night. Still, his hands were gentle as he brought Max into his embrace.

Being hugged again felt like a balm on Max’s heart. So many people heard his story and either looked at him with pity or a kind of disgust, like he’d warranted the attack somehow.

Zander hadn’t reacted either way and Max was so glad.

“Was he ever found?” Zander asked with quiet menace. The words had chains and iron maidens and torture racks in them.

“No, sadly. I couldn’t even give a description of him. I never saw his face. He smelled foul, though, like a rotting grave.”

“If he glutted himself like that on you, he was likely in the habit of doing so. Overeating has a detrimental effect on a vampire’s physiology. It conversely rots the digestive track, unbalancing the system enough that it destroys the body from the inside out. It also makes the vampire even more hungry as he’s bleeding out nutrients instead of absorbing them. They become, in a sense, their own curse.”

“Could he have been triggered into that state?”

“There’s any number of explanations for it. Just like there’s any number of explanations for alcoholics, drug abusers, etcetera. It’s an addiction for vampires.”

“Oh.” So glutting was something the vampire had done to himself. Max just got to pay the price for it. No sympathy there, then. Max did, however, have one point of guilt to confess. “I told the auction house that I was untouched by a vampire because they said I’d get better money for it. I’m sorry, I should never have said—”

“Shhh.” Zander put gentle fingers against his mouth, stilling him, expression warm and tender. “It doesn’t matter. You surviving, that’s what matters to me. You said fourteen, so this was five years ago?”

Max nodded mutely.

“Then odds are quite good he’s dead. Unless someone intervened and forced him into rehab, he wouldn’t have survived another year unchecked. It rots the body quickly. Gluttons—that’s what we call them. Once they start that path, they’re dead within two years.”

Relief. Absolute, pure relief cascaded through Max’s system. He hadn’t realized until this moment that he’d carried the fear of the vampire still being alive, of hunting him down once more. Hearing those words felt like a benediction.

Zander’s eyes widened, dark brows beetling together. “Were you afraid of him coming back for you?”

It sounded a little foolish, spoken aloud, but the fear had been both insidious and a constant companion. Max didn’t want to admit to that, just buried himself back into Zander’s arms.

“Max,” Zander murmured into his hair, a hand soothing up and down his spine. “I won’t let last night repeat. All right? You will never again be abused by anyone’s hands. Vampire or human. Thank you, first, for your courage in telling me. I know how hard it must have been. Moving forward, I will do everything in my power to safeguard you.”

Max believed that, too, which lifted even more weight off his heart, freeing him. Max hadn’t felt this kind of security since he was a young child, before the attack. It made him a little giddy, and he felt like teasing, for some reason. “You’re not going to hire a bodyguard to follow me around, are you?”

“I might. Chase is probably being threatened with one, too, if that makes you feel better.”

“Two bodyguards are not better than one, Zan, keep up.”

“I like that nickname very much. Do keep using it.”

“This habit of yours, of focusing on something else to distract me in an argument, that doesn’t actually work. You know that, right?”

“It’s just that you’re really cute when you’re mad. I have a hard time focusing.”

Max groaned. “I think I already know the answer to this, but is there any time that I’m not cute to you?”

“Um…let me think.”

“Zan, seriously?”

“Wait, I’m still thinking.”

Max just glared. This man was incorrigible.

“While I’m thinking, a question. My sire wants to have dinner together so he can meet you. When’s a good day?”

“Why are you asking me complicated questions when I’ve only had three sips of coffee?”

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