Page 41 of Blood Taken (Blood Mafia 2)
I know. I realize this is freaking insane. I wish I could have it both ways. Can't I hate them and want them all to myself?
"Don't be ridiculous," I mutter aloud. Then press my lips together.
Wonderful, now I'm talking to myself.
Grayson lifts an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth quirks. "I'll have a Jack and blood."
She glances at Mateo and scurries away.
"Hey, boss."
The chalk-on-nails, saccharine voice of the feeder makes my skin crawl. She's pretty, if you take away the whole junkie who's obviously hard up for her next rush aspect of her.
"Sit," he says, not taking his brown eyes off of my face.
I watch her plop her happy ass down, looking rather satisfied with herself. I guess it's not every day the boss comes in for a feeding.
She runs her hand up his arm.
The waitress comes back with our order. I snatch mine out of her hand and take a big drink, grimacing around the burn.
Grayson chuckles. "Easy, tiger."
I scowl at him. He's not helping anything, and he hasn't stopped smiling since we sat down. This is his entertainment tonight, I guess.
I hate being the butt of the joke.
Especially this one.
The feeder's hand reaches the top of Mateo's shoulder. He moves so fast. One second she's giving him bedroom eyes, and the next they're glazed over, gone in the haze of the bite. His mouth is at her wrist and her blood dribbles down her arm.
I finish my drink, taking it down like an oversized shot because all I can think about is ripping her hand away from him and screamingmineat the top of my lungs.
Grayson turns toward me in the seat and places his hand on my thigh.
Like that would stop me.
Mateo turns his head so he can stare at me while he drinks from her. Fucking asshole knows what he's doing.
Why am I feeling so possessive?
I've never been the jealous type, but right now an ugly green monkey is sitting on my shoulder and jumping up and down, hooting and hollering about how she's touching our man and she needs to pay.
The stem of the glass I’ve been squeezing snaps in half and the top thuds onto the table. Mateo's dark eyes flash. He releases his hold on her and shoves her out of the booth.
She's so high she lands on her ass.
I resist the urge to yellhaat the top of my lungs.
She's nothing to him. She's just a feeder.
Again, why the fuck do I care?
Mateo runs his finger around his mouth, gathering up the excess blood, and laps it off his skin with his tongue.
White hot rage erupts in my stomach.
He did this on purpose. He knew how I'd react. He wanted me to respond.
