Page 87 of Bite
“It sounds so much fancier when you say it,” I huff, pouting my lip. “Guess only a beautiful dead man can do a beautiful dead language justice.”
He cocks a brow. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“Youknowyou’re beautiful,” I scoff.
James gazes down at me thoughtfully, thumb gliding along the exposed skin at my waist, courtesy of the cutouts in my dress. “No beauty in this room compares to yours,mea dulcis,” he croons.
A smirk tugs at my lips. “Is that why you really keep me around? To make the other vampires jealous?”
“No, but it’s definitely a perk,” he replies, banding an arm around my waist and drawing me in closer. He hooks his chin over my shoulder, voice rumbling in my ear. “I like seeing the way they look at you, wishing they could have you but knowing they never will. Knowing you’re onlymine.”
Heat licks up my spine, my pulse kicking up a notch. “Hate to break it to you, but it isn’t me they’re looking at. You’re the main attraction here,your highness. I’m just an accessory.”
“Hardly,” he murmurs.
“It’s true,” I insist, sinking back into him despite myself. “If I wasn’t on your arm, I wouldn’t be getting all this attention.”
“As I recall, you sometimes enjoy being the center of attention,” he muses, fingertips trailing up my side. “You come alive with the right audience.”
I swallow thickly, suddenly far too flustered to be standing this close to him. Luckily, a passing waiter gives me the perfect excuse to step away. Snatching a fresh flute of champagne off histray, I try my best to ignore the flush climbing up my neck as I take a greedy sip.
The two of us stand in silence for a while, watching the mingling of monsters and their prey. I spot a few familiar faces– Sam, Audrey, Lucien– but no Bex tonight. She’d already committed to a date with the hot bartender she was telling me about last time we went shopping, and she seemed so excited about it that I didn’t have the heart to beg her to cancel for my sake.
At some point, James’ hand returns to rest on my waist, tightening slightly when a group of vamps saunter past. One of the men glances my way, lips parting in a smile that’s all teeth and no warmth. I meet his gaze unflinchingly, while James’ hand shifts, fingers digging into the curve of my hip as subtle warning to the others:mine.
I should hate that. I do, on principle. But for tonight. I’ll let myself pretend that it’s enough to be wanted by the most desirable man in the room, even if it’s doomed to end in heartache.
I lose track of time in the soft glow of chandeliers and the endless parade of gorgeous people. Every time I try to drift away from James, he reels me back in, the command in his touch impossible to ignore. At some point, I stop fighting it, letting myself be carried on the current of his attention. We work the room together, and I take his cues on when to speak, when to move, when to refresh my drink…
That’s the scariest part. Not how much power he holds over me, but how good it feels to let go and allow him to take the reins.
We’re just edging toward the dance floor when all eyes suddenly pivot to the entrance. Elliott Faulkner enters, looking sharp in his three-piece suit with his black-framed glassesglinting under the lights. I perk up at the sight of him, searching the sea of faces for Anna, but I don’t find her. He’s alone.
Our interaction in the library replays in my mind– the way she looked at me with raw, human fear when she delivered her warning.
You should get out while you still can.
Is it possible we were overheard, that her absence tonight has something to do with me? I clutch the stem of my champagne glass hard enough to hurt.
James’ hand drops from my waist, his attention zeroed in on Elliott’s approach. Dr. Faulkner strides straight toward us, the crowd parting for him, every donor and vamp alike captivated by the sight of a celebrity in their midst. When he finally enters our orbit, he inclines his head to James.
“Can we have a word?”
James glances down at me, expression unreadable. “I’ll be right back.”
I paste on a smile that I hope reads as confident and not panicked. “I’ll be here, trying not to get eaten alive.”
He hesitates for a beat, then jerks a nod, turning to follow his friend into the depths of the ballroom.
The instant he’s gone, the illusion shatters.I’m not safe here. Alone in a room of monsters, I’m reduced to prey.
I grab another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and drain half of it. My hand is shaking a little, so I steady myself against a gilded pillar, using it as a shield to catch my breath and scan the room.
Everywhere I look, vamps are feeding. Some discreetly, some not.
In a far corner, a woman lets her donor’s wrist dangle between sips, blood trailing down her fingers like a string of rubies. A man in a white suit leans over the neck of a girl in red, her eyes rolling back with a mix of pain and pleasure ashe feeds from her neck. Nobody seems at all bothered by what’s happening around them. Here, violence is just another kind of currency.
I try not to speculate as to what James and Elliott might be talking about. Maybe Anna’s right, and I’m in over my head. Maybe the doctor discovered something about my blood and wants to turn me into his next lab rat. I want to tell myself that James wouldn’t allow that to happen, but hedidagree to Elliott taking my blood sample in the first place…
