Page 84 of Bite Marks & Broken Hearts

“Indeed.”

Seb remained quite still, and my gaze snagged on his black skinny tie tucked into his waistcoat. I couldn’t help but remember how he felt in my bed last night, his body pressed against mine, cool but inviting. My fingers had traced patterns through the light dusting of hair across his chest, marvelling at how soft his skin felt despite its temperature.

“You’re perfection,”he’d said.“Tell me—would you rather feel me deep inside you, or bury yourself within me?”

Fuck, the things those words had done to me.

A hollow ache, so deep I could taste it, threatened to swallow me whole. Last night, Seb’s voice alone had led to the most intense orgasm of my life, followed by hours of gentle touches.

Now I wondered if that’s all we’d ever be—a collection of moments that would never quite become real.

Here he stood, discussing murder, when just hours ago we’d been a tangled mess of limbs. No wonder he was hesitant to let me close. Every happy moment must feel like borrowed time when you’re immortal—each touch a reminder of what you can’t keep.

The ghost of his kiss still lingered in my hair, and I softly touched it. How many other kisses had he given that had faded into time like this one would?

The projector cast harsh shadows across his face. In the fluorescent light, he looked otherworldly—beautiful and untouchable. A creature caught between life and death, past and present, loneliness and connection.

Something stirred in my chest, wanting to ease his darkness. Last night, I’d glimpsed a vulnerable Seb, almost human. I wanted to be the one who helped him forget about blood and violence. To show him immortality didn’t have to mean solitude.

Our eyes met across the basement. Something soft flickered in his expression before vanishing.

Seb cleared this throat, turning back to the screen. “This morning, we reviewed CCTV of the streets surrounding the hospital.” He paused, and the air in the room grew thick with anticipation. “And we saw… this.”

His finger tapped the laptop touchpad. Grainy footage filled the screen—three figures walking down a dimly lit street, their backs to the camera.

Seb stared at the footage like it held all the answers to the universe. I glanced between the others, but they seemed clueless. “This is them on their way to attack Greaves.”

Another tap. “And this is them on their way back.”

The new footage froze, and Seb zoomed in on their faces. My stomach plummeted.

A woman, her chin stained dark with what could only be blood. Next to her, a muscular man with close-cropped hair.

But the third face—I knew those features. That smile I’d thought charming, but now seemed cruel. The same face that had leered at me across the bar at Wilde Card, that had pinned me against the alley wall.

Damien.

My coffee cup slipped from my fingers, hitting the carpet with a dull thud.

Freddy leapt from Rory’s shoulders, his bony form diving for the spilled coffee. The zombie ferret’s yellow eyes glowed as he lapped at the puddle.

“Ahh fuck, he’s not allowed caffeine!” Rory exclaimed. “He goes mental on it!”

“Sorry,” I offered meekly, heat rising to my cheeks.

Seb’s expression shifted from stern to concerned in an instant. “Are you alright?” His dark eyes searched my face. “I should have warned you about—” He gestured at the frozen image of Damien on screen, frustration evident in the set of his jaw.

“No, really, it’s fine.” I forced a smile, though my hands still trembled slightly. “Just… surprised. To see his face.”

“This was completely inconsiderate of me.” Seb took half a step toward me, then seemed to catch himself, aware of our audience. I couldn’t help but notice the others exchanginglooks—Priya’s eyebrows raised significantly, then Rory smirked into his coffee cup.

I attempted to pull my face into a neutral, impassive, I’m-not-having-a-breakdown-and-Seb-didn’t-spend-the-night-in-my-bed look.

“As I was saying, our two cases appear to be connected,” Seb said. “These two are from Marcus Vale’s clan. This cambion is evidently working with them.”

Kit shifted forward, frowning. “That’s unusual. They don’t typically submit to vampire control.”

“Precisely.” Seb’s fingers drummed against the laptop. “I’m not convinced we have the full picture here.”

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