Page 88 of Bite
I set the half-empty flute on the nearest tray and slip into the crowd, letting the bodies buffer me from the anxiety chewing through my chest. I want to find James, to ground myself with his touch and hear his voice, even if it’s just to scold me for wandering off.
Instead, I find Sebastian.
He’s leaning against the bar, swirling something red in a crystal glass while looking bored out of his skull. The brief engagement we had feels like a lifetime ago, but he’s exactly as I remember– hollow cheeks, movie star stubble, and the same glint of arrogance in his eye. The only difference is that tonight, he’s a frat boy in a suit, the tie undone and the shirt half unbuttoned.
His dark eyes glint with recognition when he spots me, immediately abandoning his glass and pushing off from the bar to stride in my direction.
Shit. The last time I chatted it up with a former client at one of these things, James swooped in to claim me like the world’s scariest caveman. Which… now that I think about it actually doesn’t sound like theworstthing. At least it’d give me some clue as to where we truly stand.
“Marilyn,” Sebastian drawls as he steps right into my space, smelling like sin and expensive cologne. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Sebastian,” I greet, giving him a shy smile. “How are you?”
“Better now.” His teeth sink into the cushion of his lower lip as he rakes his gaze over me, lingering on my bare shoulders and the swell of my breasts. “You look… edible.”
“Uh, thanks,” I breathe, scanning the crowd for any sign of James.
Sebastian leans in closer, breath tinged with copper and gin. “Any chance you’ve changed those donor preferences?”
A laugh bursts out of me, half nerves, half champagne. “Wow, straight to the point.”
He shrugs, a smirk quirking his lips.
“I’m actually not…availableanymore. Through the agency,” I say, eyes flickering over the crowd once again.Still no James. “I’ve signed an exclusive donor agreement.”
“Then why are you all alone?” Sebastian purrs, stepping in even closer and trailing the backs of his knuckles down my arm. “Your master should know better than to let his pet wander around off-leash.”
“Excuse me?” I scoff, jolting back with a scowl.
His expression darkens, something ugly flickering in his eyes moments before his hand snaps out and closes around my wrist. “Just a little taste to refresh my memory,” he drawls, fangs extending as he yanks me in closer.
Fear spikes, but before I can even blink, there’s a shift in the air. The crowd around us seems to ripple with a collective inhale, and then…
James.
He’s suddenly looming directly behind Sebastian, eyes gone nearly black with rage. He moves so fast I can barely register it, hands clamping onto Sebastian’s jaw. The sound that follows is obscene– a wet, splintering crack as he wrenches Sebastian’s head to the side. For a heartbeat, it feels like time freezes. Thenhe rips Sebastian’s head clean from his body, tearing it off with a single, savage motion.
Blood erupts in a geyser, splashing over my face, my dress, the marble floor. I don’t even register the warm, wet sensation until I taste iron on my lips.
Sebastian’s body crumples at my feet, his severed head rolling away to rest under a nearby table. The entire ballroom goes silent.
James stands over the corpse, his suit ruined, his hands dripping red. His piercing blue eyes lock with mine as he steps over Sebastian’s twitching body, gripping onto my elbow.
I don’t even fight him. I can’t. My brain is a whiteout, every thought drowned beneath the shriek of my own pulse. James pulls me through the stunned crowd, leaving bloody footprints in his wake. I stumble along, not daring to look back at the carnage.
Somewhere behind us, the party starts up again with music, chatter, and laughter. As if witnessing a brutal decapitation was merely part of the evening’s entertainment.
James leads me outside, the cold air hitting my wet skin like a slap. I stumble in my heels as he guides me down the steps and into the waiting limo, shoving me inside first before sliding in after me. The door slams shut behind him, sealing us in silence.
The partition is down, but the driver pretends not to notice the blood covering his passengers. Must not be the first time he’s driven James home wearing the evidence of his wrath. The engine purrs as the car pulls away from the curb, and for what feels like a long time, we just sit there in silence.
It’s not the first time I’ve witnessed a murder. I was there when my parents died, but according to my social workers, I’ve repressed the memory. There’s only one thing I recall from that night: blood.So much blood.
Maybe that’s why I’m equal parts fascinated and horrified by the sight of it. It scratches at the edges of memories, and it’s too difficult to untangle the good ones from the bad since they’re all so vague.
I can’t remember ever being covered in it like this, though.
My dress, once iridescent and perfect, is soaked through. The sticky damp on my skin is rapidly drying to a brownish crust, and I smell like old pennies.
