Page 3 of Taste of Blood
“Go find Bernard. He’ll take care of you and see that you’re paid.”
With that I recognize I’m dismissed. I give one final glance at Devine, figuring this is the last time his name will cross my hit list, and make my way across the hall to the expansive kitchen where Bernard holds court. It might seem like overkill to have such a well-equipped kitchen in the home of someone who doesn’t need to eat, but Dante does entertain human guests in his home, holding lavish dinner parties to shmooze the wealthy movers and shakers of society to do his bidding.
Bernard is buried in a pile of paperwork that I recognize as the household accounts when I walk in. Having been transitioned when he was past middle-age after serving Dante for years as a human, the majordomo looks older than most of our kind. He always has a kind word for me when I visit.
“Let me guess,” he says when he sees me. “Didn’t feed again?”
“How can you tell?”
“You get this gaunt look about you.” He rises and crosses to the industrial-sized refrigerator and pulls out a bag of blood, handing it to me along with a thick envelope that I know contains my fee. I stuff the cash in my pocket and bite the plug off the bag, guzzling the contents. It’s not the same as live, but it will do in a pinch.
“You shouldn’t starve yourself,” the old man scolds. “It’s dangerous for someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” I grin.
“Yours is a deadly job. There are a lot of…temptations.”
I think about Devine and shrug. “Don’t worry. I know my boundaries.”
“I’m sure you do. But if you ever got injured…well…”
“I know. I’m careful. And I’ll try to do better.”
“You always say that, Cord. You don’t take care of yourself.”
I want to argue with him, but I know he’s right. I often let things go until I have no choice but to deal with them, even with something as important as feeding.
“I better run. It’s getting late and I’m sure Dante doesn’t want you wasting your time on me.”
The old man snorts. “I’ll waste my time however I see fit.”
If it was anyone else saying that, I would laugh, but I know Bernard is the true power behind Dante’s kingdom. The fact is, he knows where all the bodies are buried.
I say my goodbyes and make my way out of the penthouse. As I cross the street and reach for the door of my car, a shiver runs down my spine as a familiar voice calls out my name.
“Cord?”
I turn and meet the emerald-eyed gaze I swore I’d never want to see again.
2: Asher
CORD McCALLISTER.
I can’t believe he’s standing here in front of me. How long has it been? Too long, whatever the time frame. I smile at him but he doesn’t return the gesture. Typical.
“What are you doing here?” he growls.
“I live here.”
“Of course you do.”
“What about you?”
He shrugs, that same bored expression I’ve come to know as his default. “Work.”
I remember who lives around here then. “You’re still working for Dante?”
He rolls his eyes and turns to open the door to his car. “Figures. Some things never change.”
