Original Sin (The Order of Vampires Book 1)

by Lydia Michaels

  He tasted her adrenaline, the razor thin slice of fear cutting into her blood like a drug and lacing her ecstasy with pure endorphins. Her blood flowed like wine. The unrefined, hot press of nectar feeding his soul and awakening dark hungers from within.

  His hips pressed into the bedding as his tongue lapped up her taste. Until now, he hadn’t realized how weak he’d become, but no more. Sweet euphoria poured down his throat as his lips sealed his mouth to her supple flesh and pulled with greedy need. His rock hard cock wanted inside of her, but the fraying thread of his conscience refused to take her while she lay unconscious.

  As he fed, his eagerness climbed, rocking the bed as he imagined plunging into her welcoming heat. She arched and moaned the deeper he drank, each pull of his mouth igniting a cellular desire inside of her, deeper than intimacy a human could experience on their own.

  Her breathing labored and her delicate gyrations seduced his senses, putting him under a drunken spell of lust and hunger. He savored the rich sustenance her body offered but forced himself to stop when her heart rate slowed.

  Panting, he withdrew his fangs and licked away the last few drops that clung to his lips and teeth. He’d never tasted such perfection, but any more and she’d be left too weak for the day ahead.

  With a swipe of his tongue, he closed the puncture wound and slid off the bed. The fading twilight cast her pale limbs in a telling light as reality set in. What had he done?

  He’d only meant to kiss her goodnight, and he’d fed from her, glutted himself. Far more intimate than any sexual act, he’d behaved hastily, without conscious thought to the consequences. How could he be so reckless? So careless?

  Though there would be no visible proof, she’d suffer slight anemia. He shouldn’t care. She belonged to him. Her blood was meant to save him. Yet his mouth only tasted of bitter betrayal.

  At the first hint of guilt his mind rejected the thought of any remorse. Push. Pull. Shove. Tug. His conscience jerked between the right and wrong of it, never able to discern which was which. What was happening to him? Unbalanced thoughts rocked through his mind with dizzying force.

  Just a kiss. He’d only wanted to give her a kiss.

  But as his cells thrived, already regenerating faster than they could with the help of any animal’s blood, he celebrated a sense of entitlement, knowing full well he’d feed from her again. For only a mate’s blood could satisfy him so purely. They were born of the same atoms, split by the heavens and separated until now, always meant to come together as one, again and again, like stars anchored to the same path of one giant universe. It was only a matter of time before worlds would collide.

  He shook his head and stumbled away from the bed. This wasn’t him. He wasn’t an animal. And she wasn’t merely a source of food. She was his mate. He should worship at her feet, not steal from her altar.

  His head spun as the coming dawn seeped through the windows, crowding him deeper into the shadows. One sip was not enough to complete the bond, but it would be enough to link them. He needed to leave now. And there was no undoing the thing he’d done.

  As he let himself out of her apartment, he considered the very strange instinct to place a stranger’s comfort and survival before his own. Tonight, he took something she hadn’t offered, and it gutted him.

  He only wanted what she gave freely. She was a gift, not a consequence. He’d made a mistake feeding from her. He’d gone too many hours without subduing his hunger. He should have never come to her in such a state. He’d be more careful in the future.

  Such a small betrayal of trust cut deep without her even knowing what he’d done. He knew then that he’d let himself die before ever truly betraying her.

  And there was the crux. He couldn’t bear to deceive her. She was his mate, yes, but she’d only be his salvation if she chose to be.

  She had to choose him. He would not make the choice for her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Annalise jolted awake with a gasp and winced as her muscles objected. Feeling as if she’d been swimming under water, searching for a hole in the surface, her heart raced with confusion.

  Another dream? No, not a dream.

  She scanned the familiar surroundings of her bedroom and collapsed. Shutting her eyes, she caught her breath then frowned.

  Vivid images rushed through her mind. Thriving, panting, undulating… What was she doing in her sleep? It wasn’t normal to wake up just as tired as she’d been when she went to bed.

  She glanced at the glass of water on her nightstand, parched, but too lethargic to reach for it. Maybe she was sick. She should go in for a checkup.

  She chuckled. Not likely. With her schedule she could hardly find time to dress herself. Speaking of…

  Groaning, she dragged her cell phone off the table and squinted at the screen. Why was she so sore?

  As she waited for her brain to wake up, she checked her social media. Ugh. This once barrier between reality and fantasy had reached its limit. Why did she keep her account? Seeing everyone else’s fake perfection only added to her sense of inadequacy.

  She dropped her phone to the pillows. “Time to get up.”

  Maybe she needed sex. That would explain this pressing sense of emptiness and all the erotic dreams. But the thought of sex with Kyle still made her feel uncomfortable. She could try it, but she already knew they weren’t a perfect fit.

  Was perfect still a thing?

  Her mind flashed to the man from last night. Adam. Now, he’d be something to see. Her eyes closed as she tried to picture his body unclothed. Sculpted shoulders and thickly muscled arms. That would be a shoe she’d like to try on.

  Again, she frowned. There was something so familiar about him. But she was certain she’d never met him before.

  Her mind was so sluggish lately who knew whose paths she crossed? Hopefully, once finals were over, she’d be less preoccupied and out of this fog.

  Lurching into the kitchen, she opened the fridge. Only a carton of old Chinese food and a quart of expired milk waited inside. Her stomach rumbled.

  Grabbing the Chinese food and a fork, she leaned against the cabinet and shoveled a few bits into her mouth. Her legs were inexplicably weak. She chugged another glass of water and went to shower.

  She seriously needed to cut out sugar or change her laundry detergent. Something was obviously making her … off, but she had no idea what.

  Between school and the bar, her life wasn’t that interesting. She’d been studying too much to watch any TV, yet her dreams of late had been incredibly vivid. It was as if the universe were trying to tell her something.

  Sometimes erotic, sometimes eerie. But the dreams never made any connection to her real life.

  When she recalled the dreams where the world seemed bathed in light, a warm sensation expanded in her chest. Contrarily, the darker dreams filled her with a cold sense of coiling fear. Like the flip of a coin, her dreams could go from perfectly pleasant to ominous.

  Visions of last night’s dream returned. Gentle hands lulled her into a peaceful state, massaging and whispering promises. The air was warm. She’d been with someone—a man. His face hadn’t been clear, but she loved him very much. Their love swallowed her, kept her warm and safe.

  But then he disappeared and she was alone and cold, swimming in a pool of darkness where her feet couldn’t touch and there were no ledges to hold on to. Candiru fish swam around her. They were tiny, eel-like fish with whiskers. And they bit, latching onto her like leaches.

  Her hand stilled as she dried herself with the towel. Candiru. She knew the word, but never said or heard it before. It was probably something she made up.

  Wiping down the mirror she frowned. Her skin seemed abnormally pale. “You need to start taking more vitamins.”

  Returning to her room, she humored herself with a quick search. Candiru. “Please be something stupid.”

  Her hand brushed a tender spot on her thigh, and she lifted away the towel, frowning when she spotted two faded do
ts. “What the…”

  She leapt off the bed and stripped the sheets. So help her God if some sort of spider bit her—“Oh, God. Ew!”

  She needed to get out of this hellhole and find a bug free apartment building. STAT.

  Totally skeeved, she bagged up the bedding and left it by the door. She’d have to vacuum her mattress before going near it again. She re-examined the bite mark. It looked almost healed. Maybe she’d been infected with something. Maybe that’s where all the trippy dreams were coming from.

  Dressed—for the added layer of protection—she decided to do a quick search of spiders that inhabited this region. Only, when she turned on her phone, her last search results filled the page. “What. The. Fuck?”

  She dropped the phone and glanced around the apartment. Was someone playing a prank on her? How were all these weird things happening? Candiru were real and they looked exactly like the whiskered fish from her dream.

  Freaked, she searched for Wikipedia. Native to the Amazon. Blood sucking. Sharp teeth to latch onto their prey. Oh, hell fucking no. First blood sucking butterflies, now this?

  If she was going to dream about bloodsuckers, why couldn’t she dream of Eric Northman or Edward Cullen? No, she dreamt of gross, little leech fish and cattle-sucking butterflies.

  She dumped her cup of coffee then grabbed the bag of laundry by the door. She didn’t have time for this crap. It was her long day at the bar and she needed to hit the Laundromat before her shift.

  When she pulled into the bar parking lot Kyle’s car was already there, as well as a few others. She regretted not finishing her coffee that morning, because exhaustion had already set in. Once inside, she stashed her belongings in the back and tied her apron.

  Strong arms closed around her and she gasped. “Jesus, you scared me.”

  Kyle seemed as startled as her by her reaction. “Sorry. Did you get some studying done this morning?”

  Ha. Do exactly as she planned? Wouldn’t that be nice? “Not really. I had to take care of some things at home.”

  “Oh.” He caught her hand, hooking their fingers. “Does that mean we can’t hang—” His words cut off as he sniffed. “Is that new perfume?”

  She laughed. “Do I look fancy enough for perfume?” She sniffed her hand, but didn’t smell anything. “Do I stink?” She lifted the collar of her shirt and sniffed again, only smelling soap and laundry detergent.

  Kyle leaned close and immediately drew back. “Wow. Strong.”

  “My head smells?” She sniffed her hair. Just shampoo. “I can’t smell anything.”

  “You, uh…” He took a subtle step back, but she noticed all the same. “It’s different.”

  “Bad different?” What was it? She continued to sniff her skin and even blew a breath into her palm. Everything seemed fresh on her end. “Maybe it’s you.”

  “It’s definitely not me.”

  Self-conscious, she put more distance between them. “I don’t know what it could be. I showered a few hours ago.”

  “It’s sort of … musky, like a masculine scent. Where were you this morning?”

  “The Laundromat and home.”

  He shrugged. “It’s really strong, Anna. It’s all I can smell.” He took another step closer to the door.

  “I think you’re being dramatic.”

  “I’m really not. Sorry.”

  “What the hell?” He acted like she was wearing some sort of Kyle repellant. Frustrated, she picked up a tray. “I don’t know what it is. Maybe that’s just the way I smell.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he called as she pushed past him. But he did let her leave the back room.

  “Well, you failed.” She went straight to the kitchen. Karen, the weekend cook, stood at the grill. “Kar, do I stink?”

  She dropped a basket of fries in the deep fryer and frowned. “What?”

  “Kyle says I stink.”

  “What is this, some playground form of foreplay now?”

  Kyle leaned through the kitchen door and yelled, “I did not say you stink. I said you smell different.”

  “Smell me.” Annalise lifted her hair and exposed her neck to Karen.

  Karen inhaled. “You smell like you always do.”

  “Bad?”

  “No, not at all.” Karen scowled at the door where Kyle still watched. “You’re nuts.”

  Appeased, Annalise grabbed her tray and went to set up tables. But by the diner rush, she was beginning to doubt Karen’s nose.

  The clientele at Jimbo’s was predominantly male, and the majority of them seemed to be avoiding her. One even said he’d wait for Kyle when she offered to bring him a refill. Not that she missed their refined conversational skills, but her tips were suffering.

  Feeling like the bar outcast, she hid in the back for her break with Karen, the only person who didn’t find her presence offensive. Plucking a tomato from her chicken wrap, she asked, “Can a spider bite make you odorous?”

  “Did a spider bite you?”

  “Maybe. I have a mark on my thigh—or I did.” When she last checked it was gone.

  “Girl, you don’t want to mess with a spider bite. There are recluses in these parts. They’ll mess you up.”

  “I put peroxide on the mark and made a doctor appointment, but they can’t see me until next month.”

  “Well, I’m sure it’s fine. Just keep an eye on it.”

  “I will. But do you think a bug bite can make a person smell funny? Maybe its venom is coming out through my pores.”

  She tsked. “Kyle’s crazy. Don’t listen to him. You smell perfectly fine, Anna.” She flipped the minute steaks on the grill. “You two sleeping together yet?”

  “No.” She refused to count the night they killed a bottle of tequila, a night neither of them could remember. It didn’t matter anyway. She wasn’t sleeping with anyone until her invisible stink cleared up.

  Karen pointed to her with the spatula. “Maybe, if you had a little more vitamin D in your life you wouldn’t be so stressed out.”

  “Who can stand to be outside in this heat?”

  “That’s not the vitamin D I’m talking about. For God’s sake, girl, give a boy a bone.”

  She laughed. “What is he, a dog?”

  “Might as well be, the way he’s always begging at your feet waitin’ for a little scrap of attention. He’s got it bad for you, Anna. Take pity on him and take a little something for yourself.”

  “Maybe you’re right. I’ve been having some weird dreams lately. When they’re not creepy they’re hot.”

  “Mmm-hmm. That’s because you need to get laid.”

  She drew in a long breath and let it out slowly. She glanced toward the door and saw Kyle talking to Gus at the bar. “You really think I should do it?”

  “Absolutely. And if it doesn’t work out, it’ll give us all something to gossip about.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She couldn’t afford any awkwardness at work until she graduated and found a better job. “I’ll think about it.” She slid off the counter and tightened her apron.

  “Why don’t you think about it while you let the bartender go down on you?”

  Annalise stilled and scoffed. Sliding her tray off the counter she said, “You’re gross.”

  “But I’m not stressed, am I?”

  She laughed. No, Karen definitely wasn’t stressed. “I gotta go check my tables.”

  “Later, sugar.”

  “Late—” Annalise stilled in the doorway of the kitchen, her gaze stretching across the bar and falling on icy blue eyes.

  Adam. He’s back.

  Her cheeks pulled as she smiled, unsure why it pleased her so much to see him again. He smiled back at her, teeth perfectly white and straight. God he was beautiful. Too beautiful for a man.

  Her heart stuttered and jolted into a gallop as she rounded the bar stools and made a beeline to his table by the door.

  “You’re back.”

  He nodded, his eyes l
ocked with hers, his stare holding her so tight she had the brief sensation that his arms pulled her in. “Hello, Annalise.”

  Her belly flipped as he purred her name. Ahn-nah-leeze.

  Her entire being sank into the moment, fully present with the sort of self-awareness monks spent decades trying to find. She was here, with him, and everything became indescribably zen. It was the best she’d felt in weeks. “I’m glad you’re back.”

  “I’m glad as well. How has your day been so far?”

  She couldn’t remember, but as the sun went down and the evening patrons arrived, there seemed a marked improvement. “Great. How was your day?”

  “Long. I thought of you.”

  “You did?”

  He nodded again. “Would you like to sit?” He waved a hand to the empty booth seat across from him and she found herself sliding over the leather bench.

  Her body seemed to come alive in his presence. Her nerves hummed and her muscles relaxed. “I thought about you, too.”

  His head tilted to the side and she took note of his hair, the dark hues threaded with softer tones making a sandy brown mix of sun kissed highlights. He wore it tied back at the base of his neck, but a shorter piece fell in front of his ear, curving just beside the full pillow of his lower lip.

  She inhaled sharply, wanting to climb onto his lap and drag her tongue across those lips. He cleared his throat and she blinked, dragging her stare back to his eyes.

  Awareness set in and her eyes widened. Her panties were drenched, and her heart raced. What the hell was she doing?

  She slid out of the booth and reached into her back pocket. “I can’t accept this, Adam.” She returned his previous tip to the table, sliding the folded bill in front of him. “It’s too much.”

  “You remember my name.”

  He appeared pleased, but made no move to take the money. “I’m a good waitress.”

  “Then you deserve a good tip.” His gaze angled toward the untouched bill.