Page 21 of Craving Carla

Amari keeps a few steps behind me as I lead him through the tourist island to the ferry docks, and it’s maddening the way I can feel his eyes on me. Each time I look back, he grins smugly at me, and I swear it nearly drives me insane. I’ve never had a man look at me the way he does, not even in a moment of lust—I never even caught it with Ackley, which is why I was so surprised when he asked to take me out on a date. But this vampire... he’s relentless, and I’ve only known him less than an hour.

The streets of the tourist island are crowded today. Humans with cameras around their necks point and stare at supernaturals performing little tricks for their amusement. A witch levitates small objects while children clap.

The cool autumn breeze tugs at my hair as we walk, and I pull my sheriff’s jacket tighter around me. I can feel my skin prickling everywhere his gaze lands, like being touched by phantom fingers. It makes me want to squirm, to turn around and tell him to knock it off, but that would only amuse him more.

When we finally reach the docks, I’m relieved because now he can finally stop walking behind me, staring at me like a piece of meat. And it pisses me off that he thinks Wintermoon is a cage. Wintermoon is far, far from that. He has no idea. I don’t think he’s lived in the shadows for as long as I have. As he stands beside me and I get a glimpse of him in his suit, I can tell that he’s had a far better purgatory than me.

He’s immaculate, not a speck of dust on his perfectly tailored black suit, his expensive Italian leather shoes polished to perfection. Meanwhile, I’ve spent centuries hiding in dark corners, my children and I scuttling away from humans who would kill us on sight, supernatural beings who viewed us as pests. He has no right to judge Wintermoon when he’s clearly never known true isolation.

The ferry dock stretches out into the water, wood planks creaking beneath our feet. The lake spreads out before us, its surface shifting as small waves roll in. The scent of water and pine fills the air, mixed with the distant smell of food from the tourist vendors.

“What kind of troubles are you experiencing with the radicals on the border?” Amari asks. His deep voice rises over the sound of water lapping against the dock.

I don’t answer at first. Instead, I grin to myself, a wicked grin, knowing that he’s probably going to be the first vampire to ever shit his pants when he sees my children. I can’t wait to wipe that stupid smug grin off his face.

“It’s just like Damon always says—the radicals always seem to be one step ahead of us,” I finally reply, keeping my voice casual.

Amari laughs at that, the sound rich and smooth. “They try, but humans are practical. Once Wintermoon realizes that, it will become easier to defeat them.”

“You make it sound so easy,” I say, turning to face him.

He just stares down at me, still grinning with that infuriating confidence. I hate that he’s maddeningly beautiful—it would be easier to hate him if he wasn’t so gorgeous. And the way he looks at me... Amari looks at me like he genuinely wants me, craves me in the most primal way. It’s something I’ve wanted so badly for so long—just someone to look at me the way I see shifters look at their mates.

The way Meekah can’t absolutely stand me, the way he looks at me with disgust whenever I’m nearby, but when his mate Amaya so much as comes anywhere near his space, his posture shifts and there’s a longing in his eyes that’s difficult to describe. Genuine love and longing. It’s the most beautiful thing, the way he looks at his mate with love—not just as his mate, but a partner, a friend. Something I know I’ll never have.

My children love me, yes, but it’s different. They’re devoted, protective, but it’s not the same as having someone choose you, want you, see you as their equal.

“You’re lost in thought,” Amari says, his voice closer than I expected. “What’s on your mind?”

I snap back to the present. “Just counting the minutes until I can be away from you,” I reply, the words coming out more sharply than I intended.

Amari laughs again, the sound vibrating through me. He leans closer, the scent of him—expensive cologne with undertones of something darker, richer—washing over me. I keep my stance, looking ahead at the waters as I watch the ferry come closer into view, not giving into this beautiful asshole.

“You’re lying,” he says, his voice low, intimate. “You’re enjoying my company. I can smell it in your scent.”

I hiss at him in frustration, my hands clenching into fists. He chuckles, leaning back and staring ahead with me, adjusting his suit with manicured fingers.

His suit is annoying, just like Damon’s. Both of them act like they need to be dressed to be on top of the world. For what? They’re not impressing anyone here—most of the supernaturals on Wintermoon dress for comfort and practicality, and the tourists are too busy gawking to care about fashion sense.

Amari looks to me again with those lustful eyes, and I groan.

“I’ve seen many supernaturals over the centuries,” he says, his gaze tracking over my face, “but not once have I run into a beauty like yourself.” He chuckles to himself. “The saying is true—the most beautiful women are always hiding, out of view. And it’s rare when you spot them.”

I roll my eyes, but something flutters inside at his words. “I’ve spent most of my life in the shadows,” I admit. “It didn’t help that I was a Blackwood witch and Aya Bailey was actively hunting my bloodline to kill us. Aya knew we were destined to take the Bailey witches down. That and...” I pause, not wanting to reveal my children to him just yet.

“And?” he pushes, eyebrow raised.

I turn to face him fully, redirecting the conversation. “Why have I never heard of you? All the vampires that pop up on the tourist island because it’s so easy to feed here, the way humans flock to this spot just to get bitten... and Thirst Trap in Downtown Detroit is disgusting.”

Amari laughs, the sound oddly musical despite its depth. “I can tell you’re not the biggest fan of vampires.”

“I could care less how they feed,” I shrug. “I spend time with creatures far darker than them.”

Amari raises an eyebrow at that, curiosity flashing in his golden eyes.

“I just find the smug vampires that wear suits and think they own the world irritating,” I add, pointedly looking at his perfect attire.

“I find you to be amazing,” he says, surprising me with what sounds like sincerity. “I’m looking forward to spending the week here on Wintermoon now that I know I’ll be working closely with you the entire time.”

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