Fanged Desire (Leyore Coven #3)

Chapter 5

Hunter

The night had taken an unexpected turn.

While Kinsley darted off to help – whoever the hell Clara was, I hung back and leaned against the wall, breathing a little heavier than I would have liked. The restraint it had taken not to pull her into my lap, not to kiss every inch of her body until my lips shone like her skin, was nothing short of monumental. I had been close – so close – to losing control. And the worst part was, she had known .

It would have been so easy to give in. To let my hands graze her hips, to feel the heat between us ignite into something uncontrollable. But Kinsley had maintained that frustrating, intoxicating distance, leaving me teetering on the edge of something I couldn’t quite name.

I had managed to keep my cool, though my pulse had quickened every time she inched close enough to touch. But when the dancer had leaned in, so close that our breaths mingled, the air between us electric, I had been bracing myself for something more. Something tangible.

What do you want?

Instead, Kinsley had stepped back, ending the session before things could go further.

It had left me on edge, a raw ache pulsing in my chest. The kind of hunger that was as emotional as it was physical.

But a part of me was grateful for Ethan’s interruption. After all, crossing that line could mean trouble, for both of us. Kinsley worked on elf turf, and the politics surrounding my arrangement with Elliot were fragile enough. If the wrong person got wind of my… interest in the dancer, things could get messy – fast. And it wasn’t just that, it was the deeper concern, the one I didn’t like to acknowledge.

I wasn’t ready to hold another fragile heart in my hands. Not now, and maybe never again. But damn, it was getting harder to convince myself of that.

I ran a hand through my hair, composing myself, before pushing off the wall and heading towards the bathrooms.

It wasn’t just the sensual dance that lingered in my thoughts. My favorite dancer had read me like an open book, with a perception that rivaled Maxine’s. And that was a dangerous thing. I couldn’t afford to be that transparent, not with someone like Kinsley. The way she was able to read my mind, perfectly lay out my shortcomings like it was the most obvious thing in the world – that unsettled me.

It would seem there was a rather sharp, analytical mind hiding under all that glitter.

I went to great lengths to hide the vulnerabilities I wasn’t willing to show. But Kinsley had seen through me, cutting past the cool exterior with alarming ease. That smirk during the dance, the casual way she analyzed me, reading my hunger like she could see the storm roiling beneath the calm facade. It rattled me. I didn’t like feeling exposed.

But there wasn’t time to dwell on it, not when a new, powerful sensation had me snap to attention. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I rounded the corner and entered the bathroom, but the sharp, metallic tang of blood hit my senses hard, my stomach churning at the irresistible scent.

I backpedaled, covering my nose, and braced myself against the doorframe, keeping a wary distance from the intoxicating smell. As a turned vampire, I didn’t have the same control over the insatiable hunger that born-vampires did, and the scent of human blood, even just a little, was enthralling to dangerous degrees.

Kinsley, though, was focused, alert and assessing the scene.

Clara, I assumed, lay in a crumpled heap, her skin pale and clammy. A small pool of blood had formed beneath her head, where she must have hit the sink on her way down. I tried not to look at the red puddle, stark against the white tiles.

A gaggle of concerned dancers had gathered, unsure of what to do, all murmuring in worried tones. Ethan was there too, wringing his hands, mouth set in a hard line. He caught my eye and raised a brow at my stiff posture. I rewarded him with my best fake smile in response.

“Move, give me some space!” Kinsley barked at the group crowding the bathroom, kneeling beside the thin woman on the floor.

She took one of the towels from the countertop and pressed it firmly to Clara’s forehead, applying careful pressure to stop the bleeding. She was composed and completely focused, her expression one of cool detachment.

“Call an ambulance,” she ordered one of the nearby onlookers, voice firm in a way I’d never heard from her before.

“She’s been running herself ragged,” one of the dancers muttered under their breath, more to herself than anyone else, but Kinsley glanced at her before returning to the unconscious dancer.

“Too many shifts and nothing to sustain it,” Kinsley murmured as she leaned over Clara, gently lifting one of her eyelids to inspect her pupil. “Living off energy drinks, and God knows what else…”

I could hear every word as she mumbled to herself, sharp senses picking up on the faintest whisper. I watched with an intensity I couldn’t quite explain. Something about her composure, so similar to her presence on stage – just without the flirtatious edge, the way she took control of the situation, had my curiosity piqued.

Kinsley worked quickly, checking Clara’s pulse and making sure she was stable while keeping the pressure on the wound. The unconscious dancer’s breathing was shallow but steady, and after a few minutes Kinsley seemed satisfied that she was no longer in immediate danger.

“She’ll be okay.” She sat back on her haunches, tossing her hair out of the way like she was irritated it was loose. “But she needs a drip feed.”

As the crowd began to disperse I stayed rooted in the doorway, my eyes locked on Kinsley. She had handled the situation like someone who’d done this a thousand times before. This wasn’t just a dancer. There was more to this woman than she was letting on.

When the paramedics finally arrived Kinsley stepped back, letting them take over. She wiped the blood from her hands with the towel, her shoulders sagging slightly like the adrenaline was beginning to wear off.

Clara was wheeled out on a stretcher and Kinsley watched her go, clutching a fist to her chest. I turned away as the dancer was ferried past, subtly pressing my nose into the crook of my elbow and faking a sneeze.

Eventually, we were alone again, and I hovered in the doorway, watching Kinsley stare at the tiles where Clara’s blood had spilled.

“You knew exactly what to do,” I said, voice breaking the sudden silence.

Kinsley glanced my way, then looked down again, studying the scarlet smudge at her feet. She shrugged, and I kept my eyes on her as she stepped into a cubicle, emerging with a stack of roller towels and crouching to clean up the last of the blood.

I waited patiently as she mulled over her words, eventually tilting her head to look at me. “In my line of work, it’s good to know these things.”

A neat, dismissive answer. I didn’t buy it. There was something too practiced, too precise about the way she had handled the emergency. There was depth there, hidden beneath the gleaming exterior, and I found myself eager to uncover it.

I edged closer, breathing through parted lips to avoid catching the metallic scent of blood on the floor. “Why did Ethan come to find you?”

Kinsley looked up from her crouch, cocking her head to the side like she didn’t understand the question.

“There were plenty of people around,” I rephrased, keeping the smear of red in my peripheral. “But Ethan came straight to you.”

Kinsley only laughed, a lighthearted chuckle that sounded somewhat false as it echoed around the bathroom.

“Ethan always comes to me,” she stated simply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she scrubbed. “We help each other out. It’s not that unusual.”

There was more to the story, that much was certain, but something told me now was not the time to press. “I guess not…”

I watched in silence as Kinsley cleaned up the scene in the bathroom with the same composed efficiency she’d shown on stage. She wasn’t just a pretty face, wasn’t just a body designed to tantalize and distract. She was smart, intuitive, and quick on her feet. That made her unpredictable, and I hated not knowing what someone’s next move was.

It also made me want her even more.

When Kinsley’s final shift ended, I caught her by the bar as she was grabbing her things. “You sure you don’t need a ride home?”

Kinsley shook her head, a faint smile tugging the corners of her lips. “I’m catching a ride with Ethan, but thank you.”

She must have noticed the distaste in my expression because she laughed, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Ethan’s not that bad once you get to know him. And I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

I couldn’t fight the frown, something unsettling twisting in my gut. It wasn’t in my nature to worry about – well, anyone. But with Kinsley, the feeling was growing, gnawing at the back of my mind.

I let her go, watching her and Ethan track down a taxi cab, and cast one last look over the desolate club – vacant as the morning drew near.

That was when my eyes met his. Elliot.

The elf was sitting near the back, beady eyes fixed on me like he’d been watching for a while. I froze as those eyes shifted slowly, following his gaze to where it settled on Kinsley as she climbed into the cab.

When his gaze snapped back to mine again, a chill ran down my spine. The look was brief, but loaded with something dangerous.

I turned on my heel and left the club quickly after that, mind racing with mixed emotion. The elf’s interest in Kinsley was troubling, and possibly all my fault. If Elliot was looking for a way to get more from his bargain with the Leyore coven, Kinsley would make the perfect pawn in his game – if he knew she was valuable to one of us.

All the more reason to stay far away from the dancer.

But, of course, that’s not what happened.