Page 29 of Touched By Darkness

They. Human police, the New Council police, and a third, still-secret force. Someone else is looking for Cassandra: the person who sent that vampire after her. Maybe the Collector? No idea, but I wouldn’t put it past him. Cassandra has some kind of unique magic, a sub-category, or a hybridism. She is different, and the Collector loves to put different creatures in cages.

I sit on the edge of the bed, watching Cassandra breathe. My mate. My heart swells inside my chest as my gaze roams over her beautiful face, lips half-parted, her eyelashes fluttering with some dream. Her dark hair fans behind her on the pillow, and the sheets have slid down her torso to her waist, revealing a delicious pair of tits clad in that damned red lace bra. My cock twitches with need, but the sound of approaching steps grounds me.

Donatello leans against the door frame, watches Cassandra for a heartbeat, then tilts his chin at me in greeting. Never expected I’d be hanging out at a vampire’s place, and I’m not comfortable with it. He’s useful, knowing people I don’t, but as soon as we’re done with the mage, I’m taking Cassandra back to the surface and to my place. We’ll be better protected in clan lands. Better than here anyway.

Cassandra moves, turning belly up, and stretches her arms above her head with a soft groan that doesn’t help my erection. Her pretty tits rise with the motion, then bounce back to their place. My mate blinks her eyes open and sits up. Her gaze meets mine first.

“Morning,” she says in a raspy voice that makes me think of drawn-out orgasms and long nights of rough sex. I know we have bigger problems than this, but it’s so hard to focus on them when her nipples are peeking through her bra.

“Morning,” I greet back, holding back a smile. “Or I think it’s morning. The clock says it’s almost nine, but this place is dark like a tomb.”

She chuckles, looking over her shoulder at the window giving into the city. The same purple and blue hues shine below us, and it feels like the morning will never come. Maybe because it won’t, not here. Not when we’re underground, like moles in a huge, fancy tunnel.

Cassandra peeks down at herself, then clears her throat as she crosses her arms over her chest. I almost cry. It’s such a shame to hide her tits from me. “So the two of you have been Edwarding me?”

“Edwarding?” Donatello voices the question, even when I’m as lost as he is. Cassandra is younger than me — way younger than I’d go for usually, but mates can’t choose. Maybe ‘Edwarding’ is some sort of slang younger people use nowadays. It’s awful to accept you’ve grown old and don’t understand the jokes anymore.

She throws the sheets off and gets to her feet, giving me a fine view of her body. My fingers itch to touch her skin and learn if it’s as soft as it looks. She bends down and picks up her discarded clothes, putting them back on, to my grief. From the sad sigh Donatello releases, I’m betting he feels the same.

“Edwarding,” she goes on again, “as in imitating Edward, from Twilight. You know, watching Bella sleep like a stalker.” She grins, posing fully dressed with her hands on her hips, her hair still mussed from sleep. She sounds victorious from making a joke, but I would never lie to my mate.

I show my teeth in a regretful look. “Edwarding. That’s lame.”

She huffs. “Not lame. You’re just too old to understand the fine-tuning of this joke.”

“Not too old to know what Twilight is.” I get to my feet, approaching her to catch a whiff of her delicious scent. It’s addictive, though I can’t pinpoint what it is. “To be honest, I think the young people nowadays don’t even know Twilight. You know it came out like fifteen years ago.”

Her brows raise in her forehead. “Fifteen years ago? No way. You’re making that up.”

“It first came out in 2005,” Donatello offers, and I shoot a glance over my shoulder to catch him with his eyes on his phone. He lifts his gaze to smile at Cassandra. “Feeling old now,bella?”

Cassandra scoffs, walking to him. “No one asked you, and if I’m old, you’re a mummy. How old are you, anyway? A thousand?”

“Not quite. Not yet.” Donatello smiles, reaching out to run his fingers through her hair. “I’m a baby compared to some guys out there.”

“Tell us one event you were alive to witness,” Cassandra asks, and I move closer to see her eyes twinkling with curiosity. It’s a fascinating thing to see how closed off and careful she is on the outside, with bright curiosity inside her heart.

Donatello hums in thought for a moment. “The moon landing.”

Cassandra rolls her eyes. “Big shit. I bet Apollo was alive too.”

It’s my turn to scoff. “You can bet I was not. How old do you think I am?”

She chuckles and circles Donatello to escape into the bathroom, laughter ringing behind her. I can’t help but smile too. This woman makes me feel like a fool.

Donatello walks out of the bedroom, and I follow him. There’s no suspicion this time. I stop at the living room windows, studying the buildings down there and how tall even the smallest of buildings is. People move back and forth like there’s no time of the day down here. Every moment is a moment for pleasure.

Vampires are hedonists, for sure.

“Come help me with brunch,” Donatello calls, and I make my way into the kitchen. A part of me wants to fight him, tell him I’m not his maid, but that would be bullshit. I am going to eat, after all.

He makes me cut berries as he prepares some kind of batter. It goes into the oven, and then he prepares eggs and bacon, and the smell fills the room, making my stomach grumble. I cut oranges up and throw them into his fancy-ass juicer.

“You sure eat well,” I point out. “For a vampire.”

He chuckles, flipping the bacon and throwing some sugar in to caramelize them. “When you’re going to live forever, you have to do your best to live well.”

Cassandra’s steps announce her, and her delicious scent mixes with the caramelized bacon, making my mouth water. I turn around to watch her walk into the kitchen.

---