Chapter 7
Florence | Edinburgh, present day
Biting Damian was wrong. I knew it was, but I couldn’t help myself. Once the taste of his blood hit my tongue and slipped down my throat, I wanted more and more. It was just a moment, but it was enough. He caught a glimpse of my fangs too. Now he’s bolted out the door before I could stop him. Fuck.
There’s only one thing I can do to make this situation right: wipe his memory. But there’s one problem with that: I’ve never done it before.
Panicking, I run for my big book of practical lessons for vampires, heave it out of the bookshelf, and blow the dust off it.
The Gothic font is hard to read, so I’ve never really bothered with it much, but I flip to the section I want: Memory Erasure.
The first sentence has a foreboding warning: If performed incorrectly, this procedure will result total amnesia. Proceed with caution!
It’s a risk, but I have to try. I can’t let him know about me.
I struggle to make out the brief list of instructions, but it seems straightforward.
Luckily, Damian’s blood is still in my system.
So all I have to do is isolate the memory I want to erase, recite the Lament of Unknowing, and extinguish the candles one by one.
I quickly complete the ritual and sit by the fireplace with bergamot-scented smoke drifting around me, feeling a bit bereft.
Now Damian will wake up with a hangover, thinking he had too much to drink after a night out with his mates.
He’ll remember my dental appointment, but nothing about asking me out, going on a date with me at the bar, or coming back to my lair—not to mention the biting, bloodsucking, and fangs.
He may feel mildly anxious but will put it down to a stressful week at work. It was the right thing to do.
But now I have to face a long, lonely night without a yummy dentist to snuggle up with.
And I need to calm down after this harrowing experience.
Removing my blouse and skirt, I haul out the Dyson from the armoire and begin hoovering the rug in my corset and stockings.
Sadie prefers dancing, and Hester running, but cleaning is my go-to for expending nervous energy.
I have a large bag full of eco-friendly sprays and microfibre cloths kept expressly for this purpose.
Hoovering done, I start methodically dusting the mantelpiece.
Wipe.
Wipe.
Wipe.
Speaking of my flatmates, they would be highly amused if they found out I accidentally drank Damian’s blood and he ran away. Sadie especially—I’d get the ‘I told you so’ speech from her, which I really don’t want to hear. So I’m not going to say anything.
But meeting Damian was a bright spot in the decades of darkness, and now even that has been taken away from me. I know already, from the heaviness in my chest, that I’m going to be depressed about this for at least a year until I can see him at my next dental appointment.
Wipe.
Wipe.
Wipe.
Why can’t I have a normal loving relationship with someone I’m attracted to? I bemoan for what feels like the hundredth time this decade. Because you’re a vampire, you ninny. The sooner you get that through your thick skull, the better ...
After I’ve finished cleaning, I unhook my corset, roll down my stockings, and put on a fresh cotton nightgown.
Once I’m settled in bed, I bring up the first book of a new spicy paranormal romance series on my Kindle that I’ve been looking forward to sinking my teeth into.
This should make me feel a bit better. Reading about vampires freely feeding on humans is my guilty pleasure.
Except I can’t forget about Damian.
My mind wanders as certain juicy scenes replay in my head: the way he moaned when I stroked him and how his heart pumped fiercely—all that lovely blood rushing through his veins. He was putty in my hands.
And his lovely thick cock, oh my god. My pussy starts throbbing just thinking about it.
He was so adorable, worrying that it was too small or weird-looking. I wanted to reassure him that as cocks went, his was five stars, but that would have meant explaining how I could read his thoughts.
Anyway, then I bit him, and he tore off like a frightened rabbit. Remembering that part isn’t good for my mental health. I swipe to the next page and try to focus.
But Damian’s fear was palpable, and the memory of his shocked face is gnawing at me.
It hurts that he reacted that way, but I don’t blame him in the slightest. Being confronted with a vampire is challenging at the best of times, and I’m sure when one is latched onto your thigh with your tackle out, it’s downright terrifying.
Oh well, he won’t remember anything about our date when he wakes up, so there’s no point wallowing.
***
At 3 a.m., I throw down the Kindle, having devoured the book and been left wanting.
There was too much witty banter and not enough bloodsucking for my liking.
But the sex scenes were arousing, and it has my mind wandering to Damian again.
If I hadn’t bitten him, we might have given each other a satisfying orgasm (even if the condoms didn’t get used, some action would have been nice), then had a lovely cuddle before he fell asleep in my arms, and I watched over him through the night.
The longing for that overwhelms me in its intensity.
To the point that I start fantasising. What if I start over, make another appointment, and encourage Damian to ask me out again? But then instead of biting him, I bring him round veeery slowly to the idea of me being a vampire. He’s into Gothic fiction and horror, so he might be OK with it?
But if Sadie is right and Alexander is in Edinburgh, it’s more dangerous to get involved with a human. He’s vindictive and liable to hurt anything I care about. It’s a risk, but I can check if Alexander’s still in the city easily enough, and Hester can shield me if he is until he goes away again.
Besides, it’s the middle of the night and the perfect time to do a little bloodseeking.
The castle has tight security after hours, so I don’t go up there.
Scott Monument is a better alternative—it’s the tallest structure near our flat and my usual vantage point if we get word of Alexander lurking around.
The height gives me better range. On the occasions I picked up on him, Hester shielded me until the coast was clear.
But it's disturbing that he won’t stop hunting me—he’s like a dog with a bone.
From one of the drawers of the armoire I pull out a pair of black leggings, a long-sleeved black top, and a balaclava. After donning these, I pull on my boots.
Checking the street is empty, I slip out the back gate, shoot down Mound Place, and fly across the train tracks, moving too fast to be seen by the human eye. Technically, I could fly up Scott Monument, but I like climbing because it’s meditative.
Having scaled the sixty-metre structure, I walk around on the topmost balcony beneath the Gothic spire.
Finding the most sheltered spot, I remove my balaclava and stand there with my eyes closed, focusing, the cold breeze lifting my hair.
Bloodseeking is akin to pushing my senses out into the city, then farther into the suburbs and surrounding countryside, seeking to feel the tug of my blood bond with Alexander.
Absolutely nothing.
Unless he’s hiding out in Queensferry? I push west, to the edge of my limits, and there’s no sense of him there either.
I’m completely reassured by my bloodseeking sweep—he’s not here.
***
‘I couldn’t detect him anywhere in Edinburgh or in the near vicinity.
If he was here, he isn’t now,’ I inform Sadie that night during our flat meeting.
Hester and I are perched on the leather couch as Sadie presides over us in her revolving chair.
We all have ‘Bloody’ Marys placed on the coffee table between us.
As Hester says, ‘We need sustenance. Otherwise, we’ll get hangry.
’ Sadie’s flat meetings are notorious for running overtime and having multiple items on the agenda.
Luckily for Hester and I, I’ve pre-empted Sadie’s request for me to bloodseek, so I can report confidently on the first item.
‘Good. Thank you, Floss,’ she says, making a note on her iPad. ‘But I’d like you on bloodseeking duty all next week please. Just to make sure. And Hester you can shield her.’
I resist a frustrated eye roll. She’s being super vigilant, but I suppose it’s in her best interests to do so. Sadie and Hester are accomplices, so all three of us are at risk.
‘Fine, if you think it’s necessary. But I’m pretty sure he’s fucked off back to London, where he belongs,’ I mutter.
‘Noted. Thank you for being so accommodating, Floss,’ Sadie says sarcastically.
‘On to the next item.’ She taps her iPad screen with a French-manicured index finger.
As well as her newly polished nails, I note that she’s rather overdressed for a flat meeting: lime-green crop top, black barely-there leather skirt, sheer tights, and black stilettos.
‘Our blood is running low, so Elliott’s coming over soon with a fresh supply. That should last us for two to three weeks as long as we don’t guzzle it,’ she states.
Ah, right, so her hot thrall’s the reason she’s all dressed up …
Hester hears my thought and sniggers while Sadie shoots me a glare, having heard it too. She’s highly sensitive about her relationship with Elliott and hates us making snide comments.
Sadie drains her glass, avoiding our eyes. ‘That’s it for tonight’s meeting, so you can both go. Unless you want to tell us how your acting lesson went last night, Hester?’ she says sharply.
Hester shakes her head, her long auburn plait brushing my arm. She’s also highly sensitive about her hobby, so she won’t be telling Sadie a thing. But she might tell me later, if I ask nicely.
I clear my throat. ‘I’d like to raise another item.’
I decided when I was descending Scott Monument that I should probably tell them my plans for Damian part 2 because they’ll find out anyway. But I’ll make it sound like it’s a second date and not mention the bloodsucking on date 1.
Sadie glances at the time on her phone and frowns. ‘Yes. What is it, Floss?’
Wow, OK. Elliott must be due any minute.
‘Ah, yeah, so about that dentist—’
The doorbell chimes, and Sadie’s face brightens momentarily before falling back into its usual droll expression.
‘It’s nothing important. It can wait, I suppose ...’ I start, but Sadie is already up and out of her chair to answer the door.
‘Send me a message, and I’ll add it to the next agenda,’ she throws over her shoulder.
‘Keen much?’ whispers Hester, and I giggle softly.
We listen as Elliott’s sultry London accent floats in from the hallway. ‘Fuck me, it’s cold out there. ’Ello, gorgeous.’
There’s the sound of a ‘mwah’ as lips smack against a cheek. ‘Don’t call me that and do not kiss me until I tell you that you can,’ Sadie says gruffly in an admonishing tone.
A scuffling sound occurs, and then Sadie pokes her head into the lounge. ‘We’re going upstairs. He’ll be back down shortly to say hello.’
When she’s gone, I look at Hester and pull a face.
‘He wants to become a vampire one day, and we need him,’ she says matter-of-factly.
‘Doesn’t make it right.’
Elliott is bound to Sadie’s will. She feeds from him and gives him enough of her venom to keep him hooked and ageless but won’t turn him—even though he’s been begging her to for nearly forty years.
‘I know, it’s fucked up, but Elliott is the only thing standing between us and feeding from humans. Do you want to start doing that again?’ asks Hester.
Damian’s fearful face flashes into my mind, and the Bloody Mary gurgles guiltily in my stomach.
‘No, definitely not.’