a hunter before erasing his memories. Scary, if admittedly useful, but unless my mezmer ability could get me out of this mess—and I didn’t think it could—I did not need freaky vampire abilities acting up right now.
Not that I had any choice in the matter. The red coils slithered around me, unseen to any eye but mine, and as they wound around my skin, I could taste Tiffany’s need. She wanted me to bite her. Wanted it more than anything else.
I screamed, or I tried to, but instead my fangs sank into Tiffany’s throat.
She moaned, her arms sliding around my waist, her manicured nails clenching my hips. She pressed her body against mine, and her small gasps fluttered along my skin.
Warmth and life flowed down my throat, sweetly perfumed by her ecstasy. Then her mind opened and I rushed into her memories.
I glance around the bar, glasses of liquor I know the vamp can’t drink clutched in my hands. But the man at the table is a vamp. I know he is. I knew them all by sight.
He doesn’t even glance at me as I place his and his date’s drinks down. He knows it’s only been a week for me. I can’t donate again so soon. That’s Tatius’s rule. But three weeks?
Why do I always have to wait three weeks? I have too much blood under my skin. I can feel it. The vamps need it. Why won’t anyone take it?
God it feels good when they bite me.
Someone notice me. Someone touch me. I want to feel it.
I don’t need to wait three weeks to recover between bites.
Please…?
My fangs retracted, pulling my mind free of her thoughts.
My tongue darted out between my lips, sealing the wound on her throat, and she swayed in my arms. Her head lolled to the side, a contented sound slipping from her barely conscious body. Did I take too much? My body, still moving without my control, leaned down and scooped Tiffany’s legs off the floor, lifting the taller woman without difficulty.
A slick layer of sweat clung to her skin. She smelled of exertion and endorphins. The vampire who had escorted Tiffany into the room appeared at my side, or maybe she’d moved there while I’d been caught up in the human’s mind, either way, my body handed off the mortal burden. The other vampire carried Tiffany out of the room.
The door slid shut, and my body turned to face Tatius.
Something snapped inside me, and my legs crumpled, dropping me to the floor.
“What the hell—?” I could speak again! I lifted my hands, wiggled my trembling fingers. I could move.
I pushed off the floor, rolling to my feet, and Tatius took a step toward me. He offered me his hand, and I tried to stand and jump back at the same time. The result was an awkward scramble that dumped me on my ass. I crab walked, half scooting half crawling, toward the couch.
“Help. Help me.” The mewling words tumbled out of my mouth. Pathetic. I couldn’t call them back.
My back hit the couch with a thump. Nathanial’s hands slid under my arms and he lifted me to my feet, tugging me against his chest. I drank down his familiar scent, clung to the silky fabric of his jacket. My cheeks were damp, though I couldn’t remember when I’d started crying. The moisture soaked into Nathanial’s jacket, but he just held onto me tighter, like his arms could keep my body from shattering.
“What happened?” I whispered.
“Tatius is known as the Puppet Master.” He leaned in so the words were pressed into my hair.
I shivered. A puppet? Yes, someone else pulling my strings accurately described what had happened. I’d had no control.
Just my eyes and my thoughts. Nothing else.
That woman, Tiffany, she’d wanted me to bite her, was addicted to the bite, but had I taken too much? She’d been carried out nearly unconscious. Tatius had controlled that.
Had made me drink.
I shivered again, remembering the ecstasy in her mind, the feel of her pounding pulse. I hadn’t wanted to stop. The thought had never occurred to me once my fangs were in her throat. In truth, if Tatius
Not that I had any choice in the matter. The red coils slithered around me, unseen to any eye but mine, and as they wound around my skin, I could taste Tiffany’s need. She wanted me to bite her. Wanted it more than anything else.
I screamed, or I tried to, but instead my fangs sank into Tiffany’s throat.
She moaned, her arms sliding around my waist, her manicured nails clenching my hips. She pressed her body against mine, and her small gasps fluttered along my skin.
Warmth and life flowed down my throat, sweetly perfumed by her ecstasy. Then her mind opened and I rushed into her memories.
I glance around the bar, glasses of liquor I know the vamp can’t drink clutched in my hands. But the man at the table is a vamp. I know he is. I knew them all by sight.
He doesn’t even glance at me as I place his and his date’s drinks down. He knows it’s only been a week for me. I can’t donate again so soon. That’s Tatius’s rule. But three weeks?
Why do I always have to wait three weeks? I have too much blood under my skin. I can feel it. The vamps need it. Why won’t anyone take it?
God it feels good when they bite me.
Someone notice me. Someone touch me. I want to feel it.
I don’t need to wait three weeks to recover between bites.
Please…?
My fangs retracted, pulling my mind free of her thoughts.
My tongue darted out between my lips, sealing the wound on her throat, and she swayed in my arms. Her head lolled to the side, a contented sound slipping from her barely conscious body. Did I take too much? My body, still moving without my control, leaned down and scooped Tiffany’s legs off the floor, lifting the taller woman without difficulty.
A slick layer of sweat clung to her skin. She smelled of exertion and endorphins. The vampire who had escorted Tiffany into the room appeared at my side, or maybe she’d moved there while I’d been caught up in the human’s mind, either way, my body handed off the mortal burden. The other vampire carried Tiffany out of the room.
The door slid shut, and my body turned to face Tatius.
Something snapped inside me, and my legs crumpled, dropping me to the floor.
“What the hell—?” I could speak again! I lifted my hands, wiggled my trembling fingers. I could move.
I pushed off the floor, rolling to my feet, and Tatius took a step toward me. He offered me his hand, and I tried to stand and jump back at the same time. The result was an awkward scramble that dumped me on my ass. I crab walked, half scooting half crawling, toward the couch.
“Help. Help me.” The mewling words tumbled out of my mouth. Pathetic. I couldn’t call them back.
My back hit the couch with a thump. Nathanial’s hands slid under my arms and he lifted me to my feet, tugging me against his chest. I drank down his familiar scent, clung to the silky fabric of his jacket. My cheeks were damp, though I couldn’t remember when I’d started crying. The moisture soaked into Nathanial’s jacket, but he just held onto me tighter, like his arms could keep my body from shattering.
“What happened?” I whispered.
“Tatius is known as the Puppet Master.” He leaned in so the words were pressed into my hair.
I shivered. A puppet? Yes, someone else pulling my strings accurately described what had happened. I’d had no control.
Just my eyes and my thoughts. Nothing else.
That woman, Tiffany, she’d wanted me to bite her, was addicted to the bite, but had I taken too much? She’d been carried out nearly unconscious. Tatius had controlled that.
Had made me drink.
I shivered again, remembering the ecstasy in her mind, the feel of her pounding pulse. I hadn’t wanted to stop. The thought had never occurred to me once my fangs were in her throat. In truth, if Tatius
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