Every fourth night, I drank from her under the watchful eye of Consortium staff, but it never grew easier to stop. The knowledge that my control was still in tatters kept me in that featureless, impersonal room, even though I was sleeping horribly there. I chose a new spot on her arms each time because her bruises refused to fade. They started off red, then shifted through each color of the rainbow. But the pale violet ovals endured. I started to hate them.
I started to hate myself.
As she grew weaker, I became stronger. I was making unnaturally fast progress in my physical therapy, and the scars that had been so grisly and prominent before were already beginning to fade. But everything I gained was at her expense. I had become the parasite. By now, the halls were crowded with other med students leaving their classes, laughing and chatting as they relaxed into the Friday afternoon.
“Hey Val,” someone called. “Come out tonight. We’re going for sushi.”
I managed to smile and make an excuse while hitting speed dial yet again. Still, nothing. Baring my teeth, I pushed off the wall and stalked out of the building. I wasn’t going to be able to take a deep
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breath until I knew she was okay. Her last class of the day started in an hour. If I caught a cab to Washington Square, I’d be able to get to her classroom with plenty of time to spare. I could even bring her a chai latte, and make it look like I was trying to recreate the old days. Clutching my phone in my pocket so I’d feel the vibration in case its ring failed to penetrate through the sounds of the busy streets, I hurried out to First Avenue and flagged down a taxi. Fifteen minutes later, I was shouldering my way into the Starbucks on the east side of the square. There was a line, of course. Damn it. I tapped my foot as I waited, and absently surveyed the crowd.
And then I saw her. She already had a drink. She was sitting at a small table in the far corner, hands curled around the girth of the cup, and she was laughing at something her companion had said. The other woman turned her head slightly, tucking a strand of wavy black hair behind one ear, and my fingertips bit hard into the palms of my hands. Olivia Wentworth Lloyd.
I had been running into Olivia at official functions for as long as I could remember. She had always been gorgeous and smart and charming—the clear queen bee in the gaggle of political celebrities’
children. I, on the other hand, had been shy until puberty and awkward throughout my tweens. My parents—both before and after their divorce—had often held up Olivia as an example of everything I should be, and was not. I had alternately envied and admired her, both from afar and from up close, when we had ended up overlapping for a year at the same private girls’ high school.
She had come out as a lesbian shortly after finishing college, a year before I’d told my family. When, in a fit of snarkiness, I pointed out to them that I was “just trying to be more like Olivia,” they were not amused. She was a hotshot district attorney now. Just a few months ago, Curve had dubbed her “the female JFK Jr.”
As I watched them, she punctuated something she was saying by lightly touching Alexa’s arm.
Her hands. On my lover.
Crimson streaks shot through my vision as I stalked mindlessly toward their table. My tongue curled automatically around one of my slightly elongated canines, subtly testing its sharpness. I was going to tear out her fucking throat, and I was going to enjoy it. Alexa saw me coming, and a stunning smile bloomed across her
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lips. Even in the throes of my rage, her beauty pierced me. “Hey, love. This is a nice surprise.”
Olivia whirled in her seat. “Val, hi, long time no—”
“What the hell is going on here?” I demanded, barely restraining myself from throwing a punch first and asking questions later. The bridge of Alexa’s nose wrinkled. “What do you mean?” She was confused, but I would have bet every penny of my unclaimed fortune that Olivia knew exactly what I was talking about.
“Val,” she said again, and now her tone was patronizing. “I was on campus for the law school’s career fair, and saw Alexa there. We’re just having coffee. Talking. Catching up.”
I stood there, literally shaking, my gaze darting between the two of them. Olivia looked annoyed. Alexa looked worried. And pale. Damn it, she looked sick. Maybe I should just turn around and walk away. Olivia had it all: wealth, looks, charisma. She and Alexa shared an interest in law. Who was I kidding—they were fucking perfect for each other. Not to mention the fact that Olivia wouldn’t need Alexa’s god damn blood to survive. I was making her suffer. It would be so much better if Olivia and I just switched places.
I was turning to go. I really was. And then Alexa caught my hand.
“Sweetheart,” she said quietly. A dozen different emotions were packed into the intonation of that simple term of endearment. Olivia stood. “I’m heading out. Nice chatting with you, Alexa. Take care, Val.”
I wondered if she meant that as a warning. I took it as such. Sinking into the seat that Olivia had just vacated, I propped my elbows on the table and rested my head in my palms. My righteous anger had been replaced entirely by guilt.
“She wants you,” I said, not meeting Alexa’s eyes. “She can give you so much more than I can. I think…I think you should take what she’s offering.”
“What?” Her gentle fingers slipped under my chin, tilting up so that I couldn’t escape her. “Val…where is this even coming from? I’m yours! I’m with you. I barely even know Olivia—she’s an acquaintance at best. It’s just like she said: I saw her at the career fair, recognized her from that party of your father’s a few months ago, and we got to talking about my potential career paths.” She leaned forward to press a quick kiss to my lips. “You’re acting like she proposed marriage.”
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“She was flirting with you.” I was trying to make a factual statement, but it came out sounding mournful.
“Well, yes.” Another quick kiss. “You know that I love when you get possessive. But that’s just how she is, right? You told me so yourself, before you introduced me to her. Remember?”
I did remember. That didn’t help. “My point is still valid. Ever since the attack, all I’ve been is a drain on you. Pun not intended.”
I shook my head angrily. “You deserve so much better than to be exhausted and weak all the time.” Not to mention frustrated and in danger, I added silently.
Alexa’s jaw clenched. She took a deep breath. “I know that you’re just trying to do the right thing,” she said slowly, “but it drives me nuts to hear you say stuff like this. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty smart. And I’m more than capable of making my own choices—
something you seem to have forgotten.”
I blinked, blindsided by the sharpness in her tone. But she was right. My self-flagellating routine wasn’t giving her any agency at all. Her expression softened. “All this talk of ‘deserving’ is ridiculous. I want you. I love you. I love feeding you.” Her eyes closed briefly.
“God, Val, you have no idea what it’s like—what an incredible feeling it is, knowing that I can do that, be that for you.”
My chest felt tight and tears pricked against my lashes. Beyond words, I reached across the table to cup her cheek. I smoothed my thumb across the corner of her mouth, and gasped when her tongue darted out to taste my skin. Love and desire, need and fear slammed together in my heart. She made me feel so much. I trembled at the force of it. Alexa rested her hand over mine and squeezed lightly. “This isn’t like you. Last time you saw Olivia, it seemed like you actually enjoyed talking to her. Now you take one look at her and halfway convince yourself to walk right out of my life. Which, by the way, is crazy. What’s going on?”
I swallowed hard, determined not to break down in a fucking Starbucks of all places. “I miss you,” I whispered, knowing that I could be nothing but honest. “It’s so hard to fall asl
eep without you, and when I do, I just have nightmares anyway.” And then I hiccupped. Which made me sound even more pathetic.
“Come home,” she urged for the hundredth time. “Please, Val. Please. Do you think I’m doing any better?” My stomach clenched
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as I realized what she was implying—that by keeping us apart, I was making her unhealthy. And she couldn’t afford to be unhealthy, not with me drinking from her.
“I want to,” I said quickly. “You know I want to, and you know why I…” I shook my head. Not being with her, not touching her the way I wanted to, was slowly making me insane. But I had to keep her safe. “Soon. I promise. I’ll talk to the Powers That Be, okay? See what they think.”
Alexa nodded. I knew she was disappointed, but she didn’t dwell on it. I felt the cloud of self-loathing descending on my shoulders, and physically shrugged it off. No. I would find strength in her patience, and the courage to be with her the way we both needed. I would. I was determined.
She pulled me out of my self-psychologizing with a soft kiss. “So. Walk me to Vanderbilt?”
“Yeah, of course.”
She laced our fingers together as we left the Starbucks. “What brought you over here, anyway?”
My earlier concerns felt so silly now, after her declaration. “Your phone’s been off all day. I was worried, so I decided to meet you at your last class, chai in hand.”
But Alexa didn’t roll her eyes at my stalkerish tendencies. “Aww. You’re sweet when you’re neurotic.”
That made me laugh, of course, which had probably been her intent. “I was trying to call you because before I left this morning, Kyle gave us invitations to a party tonight.”
Her expression became speculative. “A vampire party?”
“There might be shifters, too. I don’t know.”
“Where?”
I grinned. Alexa enjoyed going out to clubs, so she was going to squeal when she heard this. “Luna.”
“Get out!” She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing the crowd around us. My smile grew wider. I laced my arm through hers and gave her a tug to keep us moving.
“For real,” I said. “Starts at ten. What do you think?”
“Yes. Absolutely. That’s perfect—I’ll have time for a nap before we have to leave.”
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I struggled to keep my face smooth at the reminder of how little energy she had these days. We had reached the front door of Vanderbilt Hall, so I pulled her off to one side and wrapped my arms around her. Despite my resolution, a very large part of me wanted to suggest that I follow my gut and take that nap with her, instead of going back to the Consortium’s facility.
But what if I hurt her?
The warmth of her lips against my neck sent twin pulses of thirst and desire down my throat. I couldn’t risk it—not without talking to Helen first. As much as I needed Alexa, as much as she needed me…I would not see this end in tragedy.
“How about you give me a wake-up call at eight?” she murmured against my skin. “Then I’ll come up and hang out with you until it’s time to leave.”
“Okay,” I said into her hair. “Will you bring me something suitable to wear?” The request wouldn’t be a hardship for her, I knew; Alexa loved dressing me.
“Sure.” Reluctantly, I thought, she stepped away. Her fingertips trailed across my face. I turned my head to kiss them as they passed my mouth, and her eyes immediately grew a shade darker. “See you soon,”
she said.
I sighed as I watched her go. I would have been completely out of my league in her Torts class, but I wanted to follow her in there anyway.
v
Above my head, stars. Below my feet, water. For a moment, I thought I knew how God had felt, hovering in chaos on the brink of creation. But then Alexa slipped her arms around my waist and pressed her lips to my jaw, and I remembered that God hadn’t been this lucky.
“Unbelievable,” she breathed.
I skimmed my hands across her hips and she sighed against my skin. She had pulled out all the stops tonight. Her black dress was both a halter top and backless. Looking at her made me feel dizzy. Hot. Thirsty. I wanted her more than I ever had. For all my talk this afternoon, I’d nearly lost control the second she walked into my room,
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an hour ago. I probably would have given in to the urge to take her, if she hadn’t been so obviously excited to see this club. It was, as Alexa had said, unbelievable. Luna sported two dance floors, the second directly on top of the first. The club was a tall cylinder built over a large pool of water. A glass circle the precise size of the pool was set into each floor. The circles were ringed by a broad walkway that held high tables and chairs on this floor and private booths—or so Kyle said, anyway—on the floor above.
I glanced down at Alexa again, and again, my head spun. I dared to run my fingers up her naked spine. In response, she bit my chin. A rush of wetness pooled between my legs. Every time I went out in these leather pants with her, I creamed the lining. Throwing caution to the wind, I swirled my fingers across her back in random patterns. I could take a few risks—we were in a public place. I wasn’t in danger of losing it here.
Or was I? Not even twenty yards away, a vampire had backed his…date? victim? against the wall, and was sucking hard on her neck. I shivered, mostly at the raw carnality of the act. I had been to my fair share of crazy parties, but this one—where drinking someone else’s blood seemed to be as acceptable as bumping and grinding—topped them all.
“You should definitely check out the upstairs at some point,”
shouted Kyle, who was hovering near my elbow. “It’s a totally different perspective.” He had turned into a valuable resource over the past few weeks—there were a few questions, particularly about the act of feeding, that Helen couldn’t answer for me. But Kyle could. Sometimes, I even thought that we might be becoming friends. But then he would look at me with this undisguised longing on his face, and I’d remember what I was and what he wanted.
Below me, the water—lit from beneath—was a swirling rainbow of colors. Apparently, the pool was open for swimming at times; the glass circle would split in two and withdraw under the walkway, inviting patrons to shed their clothing and dive in. I shivered at the thought of Alexa undoing the simple knot at the back of her neck and letting her dress pool to the floor. Yeah. Good thing this wasn’t that kind of party.
“Holy shit,” Kyle hissed suddenly, as a tall man wearing a brilliant white suit stepped into my immediate field of vision. Shaggy dark hair fell across his forehead. He smiled lazily, in a way that probably
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charmed the pants off most women. And maybe even men—my gaydar didn’t seem to work on him.
“Valentine Darrow,” he said. “The new kid on the block.” He extended his hand. “Sebastian Brenner.”
Alexa disentangled herself from my embrace and regarded Sebastian with frank curiosity. “You own this place.”
I raised my eyebrows. His name hadn’t registered with me, but then again, I wasn’t up on the club scene the way Alexa was. He looked only a few years older than us, which made owning one of the most exclusive establishments in the City an impressive feat. He seemed bemused. “I do indeed. And you are?”
“Alexa Newland. And in case it’s not obvious, I’m impressed.”
I loved Alexa’s frank and honest approach to conversing with famous people. She didn’t simper, flatter, or sugarcoat. Her straightforwardness had utterly confused my Machiavellian family when I’d first introduced her. “I’m so glad that you’re enjoying it,” Sebastian replied to Alexa, but he was looking at me. Which was bizarre. Why would any man stare at me when he could be ogling her? Not that I wanted him to. I curled one arm around Alexa’s waist. “Have you met Kyle?”
I
said, who was practically vibrating next to me, presumably at his proximity to this big shot.
Sebastian glanced at him briefly before zeroing back in on me.
“Ah, yes. One of Helen’s playthings.” He took my free hand. “Allow me to buy you both a drink.”
As he ushered us toward a spiral staircase opposite from the bar, I looked over my shoulder at Kyle, trying to figure out whether to dig in my heels and chew out this arrogant bastard for the insult that he’d made. But Kyle didn’t look upset. The second we moved away, another woman took my place at his side, and I watched her draw one bright red fingernail from his jaw to his collarbone. Eyes closing, he tipped back his head to give her more room to work with.
Sebastian hadn’t been wrong. Kyle was a vampire chew toy. I surveyed the clientele as the crowds parted for us. The vampires were fairly obvious, with their pale skin and human hangers-on. But then there were other humans who were clearly not food sources. They moved in groups or singly, sometimes interacting with the vampires, though never in a subservient way. More like two species of predators,
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coexisting in the jungle—separate but equal. And that’s when I realized that the others weren’t truly “human” at all. They were shifters. My analogy had been apt.
When we reached the top of the stairs, Sebastian bent his head to speak briefly to a woman wearing a floor-length satin gown and a fresh bite mark near one shoulder strap. The dress’s deep blue color was identical to the wall paneling. Sebastian noticed me staring at the bite, and leaned in close.
“We vet our servers in more ways than one,” he murmured against the shell of my ear. I couldn’t hold back a shiver, and he laughed softly. I watched the woman weave her way through the throng of people to the chrome-plated bar, while he led us across the room. It was clever to employ someone who could both bring drinks on a tray and be a drink in and of herself. Clever, and diabolical. I squeezed Alexa’s hand, more grateful than ever that she had insisted upon being my one and only. As we crossed onto the glass, I looked down at the crowd below, writhing to the thick electronic beat. Occasionally, the bodies would separate just long enough for me to see a flash of rainbow-tinted water. Surreal. Sebastian paused at one of several alcoves, separated from the dance floor by a floor-to-ceiling black curtain. He flung the fabric aside, revealing the most luxurious booth I’d ever seen. Sliding gracefully onto one of the dark blue leather benches, he smoothed one hand over the chrome table in a proprietary gesture. Directly opposite the curtain, a window, cut the width of the table, looked down on the busy street below. I gestured for Alexa to precede me so that she could have the best view. No sooner had we settled ourselves than the server returned, bearing a tray full of drinks.
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