Page 45 of Taste of Death

“Feel better?” he grunted.

“I… I didn’t know they were… ” I turned in the direction the Marrower had gone, but he was already out of sight.

“Marrowers keep to themselves. They stay underground for the most part. A couple have topside businesses, marrow eateries mostly. But the best stuff is in Marrowtown.” Thorne lit up another cigarette, eyeing me through the red smoke. “You sure you’re all right? Not gonna go all tissue paper on me?”

“I always thought of the attackers as monsters but now I feel kind of bad,” I admitted. Drace actually wasn’t unattractive, despite the initial shock of the big lower fangs. “I didn’t know they were just another type of vampire.”

“Ah, they know what they look like. The tusks do it for some people. Everybody’s got their thing.”

“You’re sure the attackers were drugged?” I asked. “What if it was some kind of illness, like with Novak’s clan?”

Thorne shook his head, smoke billowing around him. “Not the same thing at all. We know this drug, and we’re holding the attackers in our compound while they detox. Rathka’s Curse is… ” He took a long pause. “It’s something else entirely, something that consumes the brain. There’s nothing left of the person they once were. What they became is fucking nightmare fuel.” Inhaling deeply on his cigarette, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Although, to a human settlement that keeps themselves closed off from vampires, they might believe someone afflicted with Rathka’s Curse is the same thing as a drugged-out Marrower. Now that’s a theory.”

I watched him smoke, trying to connect the same dots he was. “You think someone is trying to pin the blame for the attack on Novak?”

“Not saying anything, except that a human from Sapien wouldn’t know ass from elbow if that were the case.”

“Fine,” I groused, turning toward the flurry of activity in the center square. “I don’t want to be involved in vampire politics anyway.”

Tavia and Cyan were posing for photos, embracing intimately with beatific smiles on their faces. They held mostly still, shifting poses slightly after several shutter clicks.

“We want a kiss!” someone yelled. “Smooch his face off!”

The couple laughed at the cheers and wolf whistles encouraging more daring photos. Then they faced each other, Cyan’s grinning lips murmuring something that looked like, “Let’s give them something good,” before meeting in a passionate, tongue-thrusting kiss.

Fists and wine glasses went up in the air, followed by jubilant cheers and more lewd suggestions.

“They look happy, don’t they?”

I had forgotten about Thorne until he spoke. For a moment, I was just as entranced by Tavia and Cyan’s display of love as everyone else.

“Yeah,” I answered, trying not to let my jealousy show. “They do.”

Thorne’s voice came directly next to my ear.

“If you want a chance of happiness like that, forget all about Novak of Rathka’s Order. He’ll only bring you misery.”

Chapter 14

Amy

Ileaned over the kitchen counter, my phone in my hands and my text thread with Novak on the screen. I lost track of how many times I’d typed out a message and then erased it.

The ceremony had been days ago, and I hadn’t heard a single word from him since he abruptly dropped me off at the square, after I thought we’d had a nice time. Now I was second- and triple-guessing whether or not to message him first.

He’ll only bring you misery.

Every time Thorne’s words tried to shove their way into my mind, I pushed them back twice as hard. Not even the king of vampires and chain-smoking would make me think Novak was a bad person just because of his bloodline.

“Put your phone away and try this.” Tavia shoved a wine glass with a few ounces of red liquid in my face.

I looked up, meeting her bright but hooded eyes. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, a flush covering her neck, cheeks, and ears. A lazy smile seemed permanently fixed to her face since the ceremony. She looked blissed-out, or more crudely, well-fucked, like she woke up receiving at least five orgasms per day. Considering she was in her honeymoon phase, that probably wasn’t far from the truth.

But more than anything, she looked happy and in love.

Obliging her, I set my phone down and picked up the wine glass by the stem, swirling it as I inhaled deeply.

Tavia was a master brewer, vintner, cideress, you name it. If it was fermented alcohol, she knew exactly how to make it delicious and drinkable. It was her biggest contribution to Sapien when we lived there. No one dared to mess with her because they didn’t want to be cut off from the booze supply.

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