Page 13 of Taste of Death

“Absolutely. Through there.” I swept my arm toward the attached bath. “I believe my housekeeper left a change of clothes too. Take as long as you need. I’ll be two doors down when you’re ready for the tour.”

“Thank you.” She sighed, tilting her head to rest her cheek on her knee. “Thank you so much, Novak.”

I nodded curtly before turning to leave the room. As I let the door shut behind me, I wondered when I suddenly became Mr. Hospitality.

Chapter 5

Amy

This Novak guy seemed to have a limitless supply of hot water. I wanted to soak under it forever, and had to constantly remind myself that I was a guest, and not a particularly welcome one. He couldn’t have been thrilled at having to scrape my dying form off the cobblestones, cut himself to feed me, and then provide me with a bed and shower.

I had either run into the kindest, most patient wealthy vampire in existence, or one with ulterior motives trying to lull me into a false sense of security. But so far, he hadn’t seemed creepy at all.

Eventually I forced myself to shut the water off, and the chill that crept in was not entirely unwelcome. It crept along my skin like a physical touch, alerting all my senses.

I felt better, mentally and physically, than I had in weeks. The crushing sense of despair over my turning wasn’t entirely gone, but it felt lifted away slightly. Removed from me, so that I at least had space to breathe, to just be.

The aches and pains of my hunger were gone, and I actually felt sated. Comfortable, satisfied even. I felt… good.

As long as I didn’t look in the mirror.

Seeing fangs in my mouth and my blue irises surrounded by black always came as a shock. A slap in the face to remind me that I was neither human nor vampire. At least vampires had power and status, but my black eyes set me apart as something other. I was too human to fit in with those with red eyes and that dangerous allure. And now too strange and inhuman to ever be accepted by the people of Sapien.

But what really sent me spiraling wasn’t on my face, but on my abdomen.

Yes, my skin was now airbrush-smooth and any wounds would heal without a single scar, but the scars from my human life were frozen in time. Including the ones from the attack that killed me.

The massive bathroom was full of mirrors, so it was hard to avoid looking at myself as I grabbed a towel, but I managed it. I didn’t want to look down at my body either, so I closed my eyes as I dried off. Novak’s impossibly soft, luxurious bath towel trailed over the jagged scars running from my navel to my sternum.

I only opened my eyes after securing the towel around me, and let out a shaky, relieved breath. Depression spiral avoided, for now.

Still avoiding contact with any mirrors, I slipped into a pair of dark pants and a cream-colored sweater I found in the guest room’s dresser, then went off to find Novak.

I stuck my head out in the hallway and looked both ways before stepping out cautiously. The decor out here was just as dark and luxurious as the two other rooms I’d been in. The far side of the hallway was a balustrade creating a waist-high border on this entire level of the house. Stretching on tiptoes, I leaned over the barrier to see the main floor below.

There was the room where Novak had first put me, right off the intricately carved front door and a foyer with some kind of mosaic tile pattern in the floor.

I kept one hand on the railing as I walked slowly toward the glow of an open door, which I assumed was where Novak waited for me. My gaze could barely soak in every detail before being pulled to admire something else. A massive chandelier hung in the center of the ceiling, directly above where the staircase ended on the first floor.

I had seen old movies on the random TV channels we’d pick up from the human world, and of course I’d read romance novels about dukes and princes of faraway lands, but never in my life had I ever known such wealth was actually possible.

Hesitating at the entrance to Novak’s office, I studied him from where he sat behind the massive wooden desk. His brow furrowed as he examined some papers, one elbow propped up on the desk’s surface while that hand rubbed his temple. Was he that tired while talking to me in the guest room? Did he even sleep at all while the sun was up?

He looked up after a moment, and I didn’t know which exactly caused my breath to catch in my chest—the striking red color of his eyes or the way his handsome features lit up at the sight of me.

“You look refreshed.” He leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders. “Feel better?”

I nodded. “You look… busy.”

Novak chuckled and lifted his hands in a sheepish gesture. “The work never stops, I suppose. Shall we go downstairs?”

“Can I ask what you do? It seems you’re very uh,” I glanced around the lavish room, “important.”

He gave a slight smile as he stood and rounded the desk. “How important I am varies depending on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

Novak paused several feet away from me, a respectful distance, but still close enough for me to pick up his scent. I almost found myself leaning forward for a closer appreciation of whatever that delicious cologne was.

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