Page 24 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

“Look, it’s been a difficult week. Most of the bodies came in toolate—”

“I don’t care for excuses.” The hunger gnawed at my insides, sharpening my tone. “You’re being paid handsomely for this arrangement.”

Greaves fumbled with his briefcase. “I don’t choose the bodies I’m assigned. You’re aware that the blood clots if I don’t get to them quickly enough. Can’t exactly push past police cordons when they’ve got a suspicious death on their hands. Sometimes the bodies sit upstairs for hours before anyone even notifies us there’s been a death, and by then…” He shrugged helplessly. “Well, you know how it goes with coagulation.”

The metallic scent of blood wafted from his case as he retrieved the cooling bag. Even through the medical packaging, the aroma made my throat burn.

“Five hundred per bag,” I said, keeping my voice level. “That’s far above market rate. If you’re unable to meet my requirements, perhaps I should seek alternative arrangements?”

His head snapped up. “No, no. I appreciate the business. It’s just been—”

“I don’t pay you to make excuses. I pay you to deliver.” I pulled out my wallet, counting out crisp fifties. “Two thousand five hundred.”

His hands trembled slightly as he passed over the blood. “Next week will be better. I promise.”

“It had better be.” I unfolded a canvas bag from my pocket. “Ten bags, Greaves. Not nine, not eight, and certainly not five.”

“Of course.” He cleared his throat. “Though if we’re talking about raising quantities, perhaps we could discuss adjusting the price—”

“The price stays exactly where it is.” I let my lip curl, just enough to flash my slightly extended canines.

“Fine, fine. Five hundred is… Five hundred is perfect.”

“Wonderful.” I opened the car door. “Same time next week. Ten bags.At least.”

The night air hit my face as I stepped out, carrying the precious cargo.Five bags.I only had one left at Killigrew Street. That meant six bags—less than a bag each day this week.

It was going to be tough, especially with this cursed hunger riding me so hard lately.

I couldn’t deny it—this endless rationing was slowly destroying me.

The memory of Flynn reaching for me earlier, the column of his neck so easily accessible, flashed through my mind, and my fangs ached.

Blood had pulsed so temptingly in his neck, his heart rate spiking with every breath. My heightened senses picked up the rush of it beneath his delicate skin, that steady thrum calling to the predator within me.

The scent of him lingered in my nose, even now. Clean sweat, traces of cinnamon sugar from the bakery, and beneath it all, that intoxicating hint offear. God help me, but the monster inside me had tuned into it like a shark scenting blood in the water.

I’d spent centuries learning to control these urges, to master the beast that dwelled beneath my skin. But the vile creature that I was, I couldn’t help imaginingsinking my fangs deep into that tender flesh, drinking down his essence until—

No.No.

But the thought had already taken root. Of course, that led me to imagine what Flynn’s moans might sound like, as the euphoric pleasure hit him. That blissful high that came with a vampire’s bite, the way victims melted into it, surrendering completely…

My fangs pressed hungrily against my gums. The canvas bag of blood felt impossibly heavy in my hands.

God help me.

I could not allow myself to fantasise about drinking from anyone, let alone gorgeously innocent blond men with warm smiles.

If the few times—those dire emergencies—where I’d drunk from Kit had taught me anything, it was that centuries of being a vampire still hadn’t granted me the iron control I pretended to possess. The bloodlust owned me, no matter how I tried to cage it. Each time, the hunger had nearly consumed me, and I always took too much.

The last time—theverylast time, I’d vowed—Priya and Rory had to use their combined strength to wrench me off Kit, who took one wobbly step away from me before fainting.

The memory of fresh blood—rich, intoxicating,alive—made my tongue tingle in anticipation.

No.Flynn would never know that side of me. I refused to let him see the monster that lurked beneath this carefully constructed façade of control and civility.

He was a guest in my hotel, under my protection.

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