Page 54 of Discovery of the Vampire
The streets were quiet, the kind of stillness that only comes in the dead hours right before dawn. My boots scuffed against the pavement as I walked, the rhythmic sound doing nothing to drown out the thoughts gnawing at my mind.
Esme’s scent clung to my clothes, and I could still taste her on my tongue. Feel the delicious warmth of her blood as it slid down my throat and filtered through my cells. I groaned aloud as my body hardened, already wanting her again. Only I wanted all of her this time, not just her blood. And the hardest thing I’d ever done was leave her at the door of her apartment and walking away once I knew she was safe inside.
I still hadn’t told her everything. I couldn’t.
Every time I'd tried, the words lodged in my throat like a stake. How could I tell her that her blood was the only thing keeping me alive now? That every other vein I’d try to drink from would taste like ashes on my tongue? Like the blonde she saw me with at the club. And even if I did manage to choke it down, no other blood would nourish me, and I'd eventually die a long, drawn-out death. Who the hell was I to put all of that on her?
Through no fault of her own, my life was literally over without her now. But the funny thing was, I didn't even care about that part. Hell, I’ll welcome death with open arms if Esme doesn't want to be with me. Because even before the mating bond, before a drop of her blood had touched my tongue, I was falling for her.
And silly as it might sound, I couldn't imagine a world without her in it anymore.
Walking back to her place, I'd felt her staring at me with those dark, piercing eyes, her sweet lips parted in confusion before she'd look away again, unable to ask what she didn’t want to know. And I’d kept my damn mouth shut, unable to answer the questions in her eyes because neither one of us was ready for the answer.
Frustration burned within me, mostly with myself, and I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jacket. I wasn't being fair to her, and I knew it. But I couldn't bring myself to do anything about it.
I traced a path through the French Quarter, no destination in mind except "away." The ironwork balconies loomed above, shadows of their intricate patterns stretching across cobblestones in the light of the street lamps, making me feel trapped in a cage of my own making.
A man stumbled out of a bar a few doors down, the reek of vodka rolling off him in waves. My fangs sharpened instinctively, my body craving the hunt, but my stomach lurched at the scent of his alcohol-filled blood and I veered around him, eager to get the hell out of there before I did something stupid.
"Fuck," I muttered, raking my hand through my hair as I took off at a jog down the sidewalk until I got far enough away that I couldn’t smell him anymore.
My whole existence after leaving the cult had been defined by control—specifically over anything and everything that was taken away from me as a human. Now, all that control was being stripped away. And here I was, brought down by a woman with midnight eyes that still held way too many secrets for my comfort.
I should hate it—this cosmic joke that tied my existence to hers without my consent. But I didn't. Instead, I felt…relief. Relief that I finally had a name for this hurricane of feelings sweeping me away. Relief that I wasn't completely losing my humanity.
Fate, Killian called it. Like a damn fairytale, or one of Kenya's romance novels, a happy ending I didn't know that I deserved.
The street lights flickered as I passed under them, their pale glow casting long shadows on the cracked sidewalks. And the farther away I walked, the tighter the connection between me and Esme grew, pulling me toward her, even as I traveled in the opposite direction.
Why hadn’t I told her how it wasn’t me that had chosen her, but fate? Because she’d look at me with pity? Horror? Or worse, because she’d see it as a weakness she could exploit? Immediately, I shook my head, trying to dislodge that thought.
And yet, the doubt lingered.
With some effort, I pushed my own shit aside and let my mind wander back to the cemetery where I'd found Esme. I'd left The Purple Fang immediately after my performance tonight, much to the disappointment of the ladies who'd made a return visit just to see me. But I had no desire to hang around flirting with them like I used to. Especially not after last night.
With Esme's blood still singing through my veins, I'd found her easily as she was leaving the graveyard. The spicy sweet scent of her blood was stronger than usual and hit me as soon as I got close enough. And that was all it took to empty my mind of anything but getting a taste of her.
But now, with my head a little clearer, questions were rising to the surface like bodies in a bayou, and I paused mid-stride. Whatever she'd been doing, remnants of magic made the air around her feel...wrong. Charged. Like the moment before lightning strikes, but darker somehow. The hairs on my arms had risen, my skin prickling with an awareness that went beyond my vampire senses.
Power.
That's what I'd felt. Raw, ancient power swirling around her, clinging to her skin like smoke before it gradually drifted away on the breeze. I'd encountered witches before—hell, three members of my family were mated with them now—but this was different. This felt like old magic. Magic that was here before witches even knew what they were.
A chill shivered down my spine that had nothing to do with the night air. The smell of copper and earth still lingered in my nostrils, along with something else. Something burnt and sharp, like ozone mixed with ash.
When I saw her standing there, her hand dripping with blood, I’d been so consumed with desire that I'd pushed it aside, focused only on the taste of her, the need to crush her body against mine. But now? Now I couldn't ignore it.
I was bound to a woman whose power scared the shit out of me. And I wasn't just nervous-scared. I was honestly a bit terrified. A woman I didn't know near as well as I thought I did. A woman who was hiding things from me.
Pausing on the corner, I frowned as the downstairs lights of the house I shared with my coven glowed in the distance. My fingers tightened around the keys in my pocket until they cut into my palm.
Fuck.
I couldn’t keep walking away from this. From her. But I didn’t know how to face it either.
The wind picked up, carrying the faint scent of rain. Lifting my chin, I tilted my head back, staring up at the heavens, the stars obscured by clouds. There was no answer out there either, no divine guidance. Nothing to help me.
When my skin prickled with warning that dawn was coming, I let myself into the courtyard and pushed open the backdoor to the house. I was met with the low hum of conversation as I stepped inside. Pausing in the foyer to take off my jacket, I steeled myself to face my family.
