Chapter 42
Ilinger by the curtain only long enough to watch Sterling disappear beyond the door to the red room. To confirm he’s truly making this choice. Then I’m turning and storming out the back entrance of Bloodlust.
“Fuck!” I slam the door closed behind me, but it does little to satisfy the rage building in my blood.
I run my hands through my hair, pacing the back alley as hot, heavy breaths flare my nostrils.
My eyes land on a discarded piece of pipe and before I can process what I’m doing, it’s in my hand as I head to the dumpster beside the door.
The sound of metal on metal echoes off the brick walls of the alleyway.
In the distance, I vaguely register bodies passing the entrance to the alley on the street beyond, eyes lingering as I let loose my anger.
Hit after hit, boom after boom, and yet I feel more pent up than I did when I came out here.
With one last swing, I let the busted up pipe fall to the ground. It clangs against the concrete, the sound piercing my ears and making me grit my teeth. Fuck this. Fuck them. I’m better off on my own, anyways.
“What did it do?” A voice calls out and I blink, looking away from the dumpster to find a long-haired, dark-eyed male leaning against the exit to Bloodlust. He pulls a cigarette to his mouth, cupping his hand over the end as he lights it and takes a drag.
“What?” I ask, trying to piece together what he’s even doing here, how much he’s seen, let alone what he asked me.
He pinches the cigarette between his index and middle finger, plucking it out of his mouth before using the same hand to gesture to the hunk of damaged metal in front of me.
“The dumpster, what did it do to you? I’m assuming something vile, like fucking your mother, with the way you were going after it. ”
He takes another drag off the cigarette, a sly grin pulling at the corner of his lips.
He folds one arm over his chest, resting his hand in the crook of his elbow as he waits for my reply.
I harden my jaw, looking him up and down.
He’s in a tailored silver suit with emerald green accents, and shoes so expensive I’m shocked he’s even standing in this disgusting alley to begin with.
His hair is as dark as his eyes, but under the glow of the full moon high above us, I can just make out the serpentine slits in his pupils. A shifter, it would appear.
“What do you want?” I bite out impatiently
He looks to my cut first, the emblem of the Blood Order over my heart.
Then his eyes dart down, taking in . . .
other parts of me. He straightens after a moment, running his tongue over his lips as he continues to eye-fuck me.
“I noticed you inside. How your uh—friend—seemed to run off in quite a hurry.”
“And?” I ask, my fists clenching at my sides.
“And I noticed how he left you prematurely . . .” The last word rolls off his tongue like a drop of honey, slow and heavy. He finally pulls his gaze away from my dick and his eyes flick up to meet the hollow ones of my mask before adding, “Unfulfilled.”
“I don’t know who you think you are—” I start, taking a step forward and bracing for a fight.
“Oh, my apologies." His saccharine voice rises, wrapping around me. “My name is Victor. And I’m here to offer my services.” He lifts a hand to his mouth, showing me the first flash of a retractable fang before puncturing the skin on the pad of his index finger.
The tinge of his blood taints the air. My nostrils flare, my muscles bristling.
I can smell the alcohol in his blood, something that makes Bloodlust the perfect host for the red rooms. Drunk blood always tastes better.
Normally, I’d be turning him away. I have no interest in those who are desperate enough to offer themselves up as a meal like this. The bar is full of them. Ungoverned district members who cannot wait to be used by the Blood Order.
They have no idea what they are to us, how we view them—as little more than farmed cattle for our feeding pleasure.
Andras has done a damn good job keeping them loyal and obedient.
We don’t even have to fucking hunt anymore.
We just take up their offerings as payment for protection or slip out for a little visit to the red rooms.
They don't seem to realize what kind of depravity it takes to be their protectors. That we're the worst of the monsters here, that they should run and hide from us rather than offer up their life force to keep us fed and in power.
I roll my shoulders, forcing my head down and the bloodlust within me to subside. Not an easy task with such a willing meal less than an arm’s length away. “Goodnight, Victor.” I turn away, trying to get the scent of his blood out of my nose. “I have no need for you here.”
He steps forward, so fluid it’s like he’s wading through water.
“Now, I know that’s not true, gorgeous.” He’s right in front of me now, draping a hand over my shoulder and lifting his finger up to my lips.
His blood has beaded against his olive skin, the drop growing heavier by the second.
It finally falls, slipping off the tip of his finger, and down the side to the ground below.
Or it would have, if I hadn’t let my tongue dart out to stop it.
My eyes roll back in my head at the taste of blood, sucking his finger into my mouth before I can think about what I’m doing.
I'm hungrier than I thought. The small taste has me spiraling, losing all control.
I knock his finger away, fisting his grey suit in my hand to keep ahold of him as I drive him backwards, against the brick wall beside the back door.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, but it comes out in one long string of syllables as I clench my jaw together to keep myself from tearing into his flesh.
“Because,” he purrs, lowering his hand to my belt. He flattens his palm against my length, his eyes flashing with delight when he finds how hard I am. “I have this issue where, when I see a need, I have to fill it.”
His hand starts moving against my dick and for the briefest of moments I let myself enjoy it.
I let myself imagine it’s Sterling here with me, kissing me once more in the back alley of the bar.
That the trainwreck of this morning never happened and I was letting myself enjoy his company tonight instead.
It’s only a split second but it’s magical.
But then the male moans, breaking my reverie, reminding me Sterling isn't here.
“Whatever you need. Blood, sex, just say the word and I’m yours.
” His fingers start fumbling with my belt buckle and I snap out of my daze, pushing him hard into the brick.
I keep my eyes on him, the anger and pain and frustration of tonight reaching a fever pitch inside me, crashing violently into the bloodlust poisoning my veins.
And I let it win. I don’t even try to stop as it tumbles out of me in a rage-filled motion.
I’m on the male in an instant, hands pulling at the collar of his clothes until fabric rips and his neck is exposed to me.
He tilts his head so I have better access.
I don’t even remove my veil before my fangs are tearing into his neck.
He gasps at the sudden pain surely coursing through him, but he melts into it—the sound morphing into another moan. “Fuck—” His breath is ragged as his head lolls back to rest against the brick wall. “I just realized I don’t even know your name.”
I unlatch from his throat, blood running down my chin. “Shut the fuck up. Say another word and I'll rip you in two.” But the threat only seems to turn him on more. He nods, fumbling with the button of his suit pants.
I should tell him to get lost. But the promise of more blood is too strong to pass up. I press him up against the wall once more, my forearm pushing into his throat as my hand wraps around his face and angles him exactly where I want him.
I tear into him again just as he gets his dick out and starts stroking it.
I have half a mind to reach down and rip it off him for having the audacity, but it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before.
So many of these creatures get off on feeding us.
Maybe he came out here hoping for an easy hookup, but I have no interest in fucking this male.
So he can do the job himself, like the pathetic creature he is, and I will use him for what I need and discard him just as easily.
The rougher I am, the more enthusiastic he becomes; which in turn just makes me more agitated and forceful with my feed. It’s a messy, frenzied few minutes that makes me hate myself all the more for it. He comes all over the ground just as I unlatch and pull away, disgusted.
“Gods,” he breathes, slumping against the wall.
I wipe his blood from my maw, looking at him sidelong as he tries to recover from his orgasm. To my surprise, he drops to his knees in the midst of his cum splattered against the concrete—another offering for me.
I sneer, spitting at the ground. I’m suddenly desperate to get the taste of him out of my mouth. “Get up,” I order.
He is reluctant to obey, confused why I’m refusing him. He puts his hands up once he’s on his feet. “I only want to return the favor.”
I step into him, wrapping my hand around his throat and pressing him against the wall till I know the brick is biting into the back of his scalp.
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, snake. I did you no favor. You offered your blood to your superior, as you are called to do. It’s not my fault you can’t keep it in your pants. ”
He swallows against my hand at his throat. “Understood,” he croaks.