Page 41 of Fangs & Freaks
But there’s more beneath the surface—a restlessness I can’t shake. Warrick and Blackwell flash into my mind, their sharp teeth and toned bodies calling to me. What we’ve shared so far has been intense, but it could easily be chalked up to lust. And yet, it doesn’t feel like that… to me, at least. It’s something more, something I’m not sure how to put into words yet.
Her crimson eyes snap open, locking onto me. There’s a fleeting softness, like the eye of a hurricane before the storm returns. She stretches, cat-like, but there’s nothing gentle in her.
“You were sleeping so soundly,” I say, my voice light but teasing.
“I wasn’t asleep,” she replies.
I raise an eyebrow, leaning back against the stone wall. “What do you mean? You were snoozing, Bellonna. Eyes closed, completely still. If you weren’t asleep, what was that?”
Her lips curve into a faint smirk, but her eyes remain hard, a glint of exhaustion behind their fiery glow. “I was projecting,” she says, her voice dipping lower. “To the fangbangers,” she mutters. “They never give up.”
“They’ve been calling you?”
“Nonstop since you carried me from the bathroom and took me like a wild animal. I just appeared to them in reflection and they were their moody selves.”
“What do they want?”
Her laugh is cold. “You, silly boy.” She cups my face, pushing up and biting my bottom lip. “I thought if I clued the unhinged one into what we were up to, they’d leave us be. But seems him seeing, or rather feeling, us fucking hasn’t swayed their feelings. Jealous little bastards.”
“You told them we were fucking?” I ask. I should be surprised, but I’m not really. I am concerned with how they feel knowing that even though Bloody Mary kidnapped me, I’ve enjoyed my time with her. A lot.
“I told them I was busy. However, the crazy one wouldn’t let up.” Bellonna smirks, her predatory grin wide enough to reveal her sharpened canines. “Let’s just say I let himfeelus while we were tangled in the sheets. He was... impressed.” Her laugh is dark and grating.
“I have so many questions, but I don’t even know where to start.”
“Maybe if you insist on me considering sharing you with the bloodsuckers, that could be a fun group activity. No touching, just feeling while you fuck me.” She taps her chin like she’s deep in thought.
“So you’re agreeing to consider sharing?” I ask.
“I’ve never been good at sharing my things, even as a child. For you, though, I’ll consider it. Besides, the vampires are hot, and you did call me out on my shit—which you’ll pay for later. I can’t deny I feel my own pull to them, too.”
“So, now what?”
Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.
“For fuck’s sake!” she growls. “They’re calling…again. Maybe if we go but tell them we’re mated, they’d leave us alone, at least for a little while longer. I’ve not had my fill of you yet,” she muses, her lips curving into a wicked grin.
Her words stir something deep within me, a mix of pride and disbelief. Bellonna—the Bloody Mary, the stuff of nightmares—is mine. And I’m hers. It’s a thought I’m still getting used to.
“I don’t think that will work, but we should see what’s so important,” I say, sitting up fully. “Let’s go.”
Before I can process what’s happening, there’s a rush of wind, and the world shifts. In an instant, we’re no longer in her warm bedroom, naked, but in Warrick’s destroyed office, fully clothed. The furniture lies in splinters, the scent of old leather, liquor, and blood heavy in the air.
Warrick and Blackwell are already there, waiting. Warrick leans against the desk, his broad shoulders and piercing gaze commanding the room. Blackwell sits in a chair, one leg draped over the armrest, looking bored though his eyes gleam with a predatory edge.
“You called?” Bellonna’s voice is syrupy-sweet, but her movements scream violence.
“Varys,” Warrick growls, his voice a deep rumble that seems to vibrate through the room.
Bellonna steps closer, her movements fluid and predatory, chin raised in defiance. Her eyes glint crimson, and a dangerous smile curves her lips. “He’s mine. If you’ve got a problem withthat, you can take it up with me.” Her tone is icy, every syllable a challenge.
Blackwell chuckles, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His fangs flash briefly, catching the dim light as he chuckles—a low, bone-chilling sound that raises the hairs on my arms. “Relax, Bellonna. We’re not here to fight over him.”
“Not yet, anyway,” Warrick mutters, his gaze flicking to me like I’m prey trapped in the jaws of a predator. There’s something unnerving in the way he looks at me, as if calculating exactly how much blood I’d spill if he sunk his fangs into my neck.
My gaze flickers between them, trying to piece together their game. Why call us here if it’s not about wanting me back? My eyes wander to the destroyed office—splintered wood, upended furniture, shattered glass. It looks like a battlefield.
“What happened in here?” Bellonna asks, looking around at all the damage.
