Page 8 of Royal Bite
The woman slid a file into the plastic holder on the door. She gave Stormey one last look that was very familiar. One that she’d received plenty of times when people found out she was for humans mating with vampires. The woman shook her head and closed the door.
Stormey removed her coat and hung it up on the hook on the wall. She took the seat and waited.
Stormey let herself into her tiny home. She shut the door behind her and engaged the locks. She didn’t live in the best part of town, but everyone in her neighborhood was like her. Part of the lower working class. The home she rented was just in her price range. It was less than four hundred feet. It was an open floor plan with the living room and kitchen connected. There was a small bathroom in the back, and her bedroom was in the loft.
It wasn’t much, but it had been her home for the last few years. It was decorated sparsely with only the necessities. She had an oversized chair and a table in the living room as her only furniture.
She was proud of her house. As a child who’d bounced around between orphanages to foster homes, she had been so excited to find a place of her own. She had moved countless times. There were some families who’d taken her in. Some had been good while others were questionable. She had tried to be a well-behaved kid in hopes someone would want to keep her and adopt her, but it always ended with her being sent back to an orphanage.
Many of the families who’d fostered her did it for the money. The government paid them to look after children. They didn’t really want her but wanted the benefits of having a foster kid.
That was what drove her to find someone to love her.
She wanted to belong. She wanted to share all of the love she harbored inside her. When she was sixteen years old, a woman by the name of Lori Silver had agreed to house her. Finally, she had found a foster mom who cared for her. Those last two years in the foster system were the best of Stormey’s life. They had lived in a small town in Alabama.
Stormey still communicated with Lori whenever she got a chance. They exchanged letters to keep each other updated. Lori was getting up in age, but she was still caring for older foster children. Whenever Stormey had extra money, she sent it to Lori. The woman never thought of herself. Stormey insisted that the few dollars she sent be spent on her. Lori was stubborn, and Stormey was sure her foster mother spent that money on her children.
She took her coat off and dropped it onto her chair along with her bag. She rushed to the ladder that led to her small bedroom.
She stripped off her work clothes and threw on her best outfit. If tonight was going to be the night she met her mate, then she wanted to look her best. She chose a pair of black leggings and a soft cream sweater she had found at the secondhand store. It was thick and long, stopping just below her plump bottom. She frantically gathered her belongings together and tossed them into her bag. Clothes, shoes, some personal trinkets, and the letters from Lori.
She wanted to make sure that if—no, when—her name was drawn, she would already have her belongings together. She didn’t own much. Once she left, she was sure her home would be rented out by the next morning. Her landlord would not miss her at all. The only thing that mattered was keeping someone in the house so he could get paid. Not that he fixed anything. There was plenty that needed attention in her home. She didn’t want to complain and risk getting thrown out. So she patched up what she could.
“This is sad,” she murmured, staring at her bag on her bed. She hadn’t realized that all of her personal belongings fit in one duffle. Not that it mattered. After she paid the few bills she had, she donated as much as she could to the orphanage. Those kids needed it more than she did.
Stormey carried the bag downstairs and sat it on the floor near her chair. She scanned the rest of the house to see if there was anything else she wanted to take. She didn’t keep anything of value downstairs. If someone broke into her home, she didn’t want to make it easy for them to take from her.
She moved over into the kitchen. Her stomach grumbled, alerting her that she hadn’t eaten since earlier that day. She opened the fridge and found there wasn’t much in there. She frowned, unable to remember the last time she had gone to the market.
“Today will be a day to splurge.” She slammed the door shut and went over to her bag. She peeked inside her wallet to make sure she would have enough to cover dinner. She tossed her coat back on and decided she would go to the local diner near her home. They served good, hot food, and she had enough time to grab something to eat and could watch the draft on their television.
With it being wintertime, the sun didn’t stay out as long. Ever since the princess and her small army had come to town, attacks on humans had decreased drastically. There were even guards and human police who patrolled areas, making it safer for humans to be out at night.
Martha’s was a cozy little diner that was located a few blocks from Stormey’s neighborhood. Stormey locked up her home and left. She slid the straps of her bag across her chest to be able to hold on to it. She picked up her pace and stayed aware of her surroundings.
It wouldn’t do her any good to donate her blood, be matched, but be found dead in an alleyway.
Stormey blew out a deep breath and increased her speed. She made it in record time. She entered the restaurant and was immediately hit with the aroma of good, home-cooked food. The decor was that of the late twentieth century. It may be a little outdated, but it was clean.
“Hello there. Just one?” a short lady with olive skin and jet-black hair greeted her. The woman’s smile was infectious. Her tag held the name Cecilia.
“Yes, please.” Stormey returned her smile.
“Would you like a booth or table?” Cecilia grabbed a menu and waved for her to follow.
“A booth would be perfect.” Stormey glanced around and took in the other patrons. There were a few couples, a family, and some singles spread around. “Can I be near the television? I just want to catch the news.”
“Of course.” Cecilia walked over to a booth and set the menu down.
Stormey removed her coat and slid into the booth. She settled her belongings on the seat next to her before picking up the menu.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“Water would be fine.” Stormey began going over the short menu. She wanted to save some of her money. Luckily enough, water was free.
“Want a lemon for it?” Cecilia asked.
“Sure, thanks.”
