Page 4 of A Song in the Night

She purses her lips, wearing a speculative expression, and I remember the words Noah flung at me once.You’re human, Charlie, which means you’re weak. No doubt Sylvia shares the sentiment.

As if she hears the thought, the vampire says, “Maybe Forrest should go with you.”

“No,” I reply quickly. The thought of anyone—especially Noah—being a witness as I struggle for control is humiliating. “I’ll manage.”

I don’t give her a chance to answer. Darting into the hallway, I jog down the stairs and outside, where the cold slaps me in the face. I let out a breath, fogging the air in front of me as I hurry down the sidewalk. I can already smell the familiar scents of a feeding unit—blood and bleach. The monster urges me to move faster.

By the time I reach the facility and pull the door open, I’m slightly out of breath.

Inside, I discover this facility is somewhere in between the one I went to in Oldbel and the one I used at the hotel. While the feeding rooms are tucked away, assumably through the door to the right of the human sitting behind a sheet of glass, there’s nothing elegant about the waiting room. It’s efficient and clinical, the walls unadorned and the chairs hard-looking. The smell is so strong now that my nostrils flare in protest.

As I approach the front desk, I consider registering under a fake name, but it’s pointless. Most of New Ve knows my face anyway.

I’m quickly assigned a feeder and led into a small, equally barren room where a middle-aged woman sits in a faded recliner. Her lavender eyes widen slightly when I step inside and close the door, but I can’t tell if it’s because she recognized me or she’s just excited for her next hit of venom.

“Good evening, miss,” she says, and the anticipation of what’s about to happen clings to her words.

I offer a tight-lipped smile, but my eyes are stuck on her jugular.Drain her, the monster purrs, and I know both of them would enjoy it—the monster and the feeder. It would be a pleasurable death.

Stop it,I snarl at the monster.We’re not killing anyone.

I draw closer slowly, my fangs extending in preparation. When the woman’s pulse races, though, the blood quickening in her veins, I lose control and cross the room in a blur. There’s no hesitation in the way I sink my fangs into her shoulder.

The human cries out, but the sound quickly morphs into a moan that fills the room. Her blood pours into my mouth, exploding on my tongue as I brace myself on the back of the chair. I drink deeply, closing my eyes and relishing in the intoxicating sensation of satiating the monster that lives in me.

As the seconds tick by, I completely lose myself in the feed—in the part of me I’ve always hated.

The last time this happened, I think faintly, still drinking,I almost killed a human.

I see his face in my mind’s eye. That mop of brown curls. Those huge, gentle eyes.Deacon.

At the same moment I remember his name, I realize the woman has gone quiet. Until now, she’s been sighing and moaning, as venom addicts usually do. Now she’s not even moving. Gasping, I shove away from her. She slumps back in the chair, her heart rate dangerously slow. Panic claws at me… until she smiles. I’m so relieved I almost sag.

“How wonderful. Thank you so much,” the human mumbles, slumping in the chair.

I’m already retreating to the door, wiping the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand. Part of me longs to finish what I started. Tear her veins open. Take everything she has.

Instead, I turn and rush out of the room.

In the hallway, my hunger is quickly replaced by deep-rooted shame. I pause and lean against the wall, breathing hard. Iknowhow to feed, damn it. I know how to make sure any human I drink from is safe.

So why is this the second time in a matter of weeks that I’ve almost killed one?

As if I can outrun the thought, I jolt into movement again. I’ll never know if the front desk employee would’ve said goodbye, because I rush past too quickly. A second later, I hit the door with both palms. Open air hits my face again, but this time, I barely notice. My footsteps are quick, my shoes barely making a sound against the sidewalk as daylight hovers along the edges of the still dark horizon.

Despite the guilt and shame battering me, my veins sing as I walk toward the office. The feeder’s blood feels like a cocaine high. I don’t let myself enjoy it, not even for a second.

Using some of the energy I just took from the human I fed on, I move in a blur, speeding up the stairs and into the office.

To my surprise, there’s no one waiting for me in the brightening room. The office is full of shadows and silence. Sylvia and Noah must’ve gone home for the day.

Still fighting shame and discouragement, I kick off my shoes near the door and pad across the space. I grab the blanket off the back of the couch and wrap it around myself before dropping onto the cushions. I have a stray, fleeting thought about brushing my teeth, but I’m too tired. What does it matter, anyway?

With the monster in me finally satisfied, sleep pulls me under within seconds.

Chapter Two

Idream of clacking teeth and tearing skin. I see Drew die all over again, those weepers ripping into his throat like sharks feeding on a whale carcass. His glassy eyes refocus, finding me in the gloom, and his freckles stand out starkly against his ashen skin.

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