Bleed, Little Prey (Whispering Ivy #2)

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

When my mom died, I’d just turned eighteen. She left me with cryptic instructions, an envelope full of cash, and a crap-ton of unanswered questions, but the most pressing one right now?

Mother, when you were pressuring me to come to this godforsaken college called Whispering Ivy, did you know that fucking vampires roamed the campus?

From opposite sides of his bed, Malcolm and I, both buck naked, stared each other down.

Probably not the time to think it, but I didn’t know cocks could go flaccid that fast.

“What the fuck are you?” he whispered again in that strange accent of his.

“What the fuck am I?” I threw my hands in the air. “Are you kidding me right now? You’re a goddamned vampire, and you’re asking me what I am?”

His eyes narrowed, as if he was the one who should be pissed off here.

Not only had he tried to bite me—twice—he didn’t even wait until after sex to do it. So not only did I have to deal with the fact that vampires actually existed, but I had to do it while a potential, much-needed orgasm died a slow, painful death in my clit.

Fucking Malcolm. The first time I get laid in way too long, and he had to ruin it by…

Priorities, Tuesday, I scolded myself. Vampires are real, and you’re in a room with one that wants to make you his blood-flavored Slurpee.

Malcom blinked rapidly and stared at me, slack jawed. When he spoke again, the words came out in fits and starts. “I-I’m…I’m a big dude and you…you hurled me across the room like a half-filled bag of p-potato chips.”

He was shook. Or…

“Are you okay?” I asked.

The sickening crack of my skull against his forehead still rang loudly in my ears. The image of him crumpled like a rag doll against the wall had burned into my corneas.

Was it possible that his newly acquired stammer was a result of a traumatic brain injury? He could have internal bleeding or…

Nausea swirled in the pit of my belly.

What. The. Fuck.

He tried to bite me, then bite me again.

I didn’t care how the fuck he was!

But…

He reached up and pushed against his top lip a couple of times with his finger, wincing.

“That was like getting fucking electrocuted,” he muttered and began to pace.

I scanned the room, looking for a weapon to defend myself with because there was no way I was getting around him and out the door.

The lamp. It was within reach and looked heavy, but I could—

Damn, maybe instead of worrying about what damage I’d done to Malcolm, I should be worried about my own damn self. My heartbeat thrashed against my temples so hard that I swayed. That couldn’t be good.

He whirled around, facing me, his pale-gray eyes wide, his breathing ragged.

“You’re not human,” he said.

The list of things I’d been accused of in all my years on this planet was pretty endless, but yeah, that was a new one.

I laughed. “Um, sorry to disappoint, but one hundred percent human.”

I flashed him my perfectly normal, human teeth.

He stood there, panting, a mix of confusion and dread twisting his face.

“This…this has never happened before,” he stammered, a wild look gleaming in his eyes as if his supernatural ego had taken a hit right where it hurt.

I sniffed, and I swore I could smell it. The fear.

Malcolm was afraid.

Of me?

“If you were human, I’d have been able to turn you.”

My mouth dropped open. I’d assumed he’d been planning on draining me dry, but turning me? Like…into a vampire? Without my permission?

“Uh, did you just say—”

“This has never happened before,” he said again, talking to himself and almost marveling over the words now, as if I wasn’t even in the room anymore.

Good. Maybe he’d forget about me and wander into the kitchen for a late-night non-me snack, and I could sneak out.

But no. I’d never made life that easy on myself.

“Aww, Mal. Dysfunction happens to all guys.” I quirked an eyebrow, half expecting him to lunge at me again.

My fingers flexed, ready to wrap around the neck of the lampstand. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I wasn’t about to let him hurt me.

But he ignored the quip.

“Something's off.” He shook his head. Then he jabbed a beefy finger at me. “It’s you, not me.”

Why do guys always have to blame the girl?

Honestly, it pissed me right the fuck off.

“Really? You try to fang out with me, fail, and it’s my fault? Get some Vamp Viagra, my dude.”

He fixed me with a glare that could freeze hell over.

“If you breathe a word of this to anyone,” he growled, his voice low and threatening, “I’ll make sure your end comes so fast you won’t have time to scream.”

His threat hung in the air between us, cold and heavy. I stared back at him, trying to mask the shiver that racked my body. This was real. Too real.

But for some reason, I wasn’t afraid. That wasn’t my first Whispering Ivy death threat, and I doubted it would be my last. But…yeah, I wasn’t afraid of Malcolm.

“Look, Malcolm, try to get bitey with me again, and I swear I’ll end you,” I said. “And you won’t have time to scream.”

“You think you can take me?”

A hint of his annoying cockiness still lurked inside him, but I got the feeling the question wasn’t rhetorical.

“I just did, didn’t I?” I countered, keeping my posture relaxed but ready.

The weight of the room shifted slightly, the tension crackling like static.

For once, Malcolm had nothing to say.

I pulled his bedsheet around me and used the corner of it to wipe the smear of blood from my neck. I sat up straighter, knowing this was my shot.

“I’ll be happy to keep your little secret.” I allowed him a moment of relief before adding, “For a price.”

With a huff, he rolled his eyes and reached for something on his dresser.

I scooted over towards the lamp…and saw what he’d picked up. His wallet.

He riffled through the bills inside. “Goddamn, Connor was right. You are a street leach. How much? A hundy? Two?”

I scoffed. “I don’t want your money, Malcolm. I want answers.”

He glanced over his broad shoulder, his eyebrows drawn together. “Answers about what?”

“I want information about the Lifewell. And don’t try to play dumb. I know you know something, and if your lips don’t get very loose…” I shrugged. “Mine just might.”

Malcolm studied me for a long moment then chuckled.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He clicked his tongue. “Fine. Pillow talk it is.”

My heart pounded as he sat down on the edge of the mattress.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

I wanted to know everything, but if he would tell me anything useful, I’d be happy.

“I want to know whatever you know,” I said simply, as if it wasn’t that important to me.

In response, he scratched his balls.

I should’ve known he wasn’t going to take this seriously. Take me seriously.

“Mmm,” he said, and it was the most contemplative mmm ever mmmed. He looked up at the ceiling as if he was very deep in thought, like he was having to ponder his next move. “I’m more talkative when my dick is warm.”

Ah, there it was.

“Okay, well, let’s move this little tête-à-tête to the kitchen, and you can stick that thing in the toaster while we chat.” I smiled sweetly at him.

“Or we could stay right where we are, and I can stick it in you.” He quirked up an eyebrow.

Call me a total standardless ho-bag, but the offer wasn’t not tempting.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not fucking you again.”

Though, to be fair, I’d barely gotten to fuck him the first time.

He shook his head. “Not asking for a fuck. Just let me put it in your pussy.”

I stared at him, because, okay, how was that not a fuck?

“You’ve never heard of cock-warming? I won’t thrust. It’s not even sex, really. You just lie there, and I’ll answer any questions you have while I’m inside you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Any questions?”

He nodded. A little too eagerly.

“Fine,” I said, “but you just lie there, and I’ll sit on it. How about that?”

I wasn’t about to let him get me in a position where he had the upper hand and could fang out on me again.

“Deal,” he said, gesturing for me to get up.

I stood and found my nightshirt, but before I could pull it over my head, he grabbed my arm.

“Uh-uh. Titties out, and every time I answer a question, I get to pinch a nip.”

My mouth fell open, shocked not at what he’d said, but how it made me feel. No doubt Malcolm would make it hurt, and I was…not averse to the thought of that kind of pain.

“That was not a part of the bargain—”

“Well…” He smacked his lips together. “It is now. We seem to have found ourselves in the midst of a good ol’ fashioned power struggle. And that’s my move. Your turn, bitch.”

As he spoke, he lay down, arms behind his head, his arousal back at full-mast and leaking pre-cum.

I dropped my nightshirt, and fuck me, I started to salivate. What the fuck was wrong with me?

Climbing onto the mattress, I straddled his hips, positioned his cock at my entrance, and slowly lowered myself onto him, trying not to let how delicious the stretch felt show on my face, but good god, my thighs quivered as I took every inch of him.

“You’re gonna have to give it a squeeze or bounce up and down every once in a while to keep me hard. I go soft, and we’re done.”

I rolled my eyes but clenched around him.

“Such a good little slut,” he hissed. “Fire when ready.”

I shifted slightly on Malcolm’s hips, keeping him inside me but adjusting to ease the undeniable pleasure quickly—too quickly—building in my core. His smug grin only deepened, his cock twitching against my inner walls.

“This isn’t going to work if you can’t focus, Tuesday,” he said, his tone infuriatingly amused.

“Oh, I’m focused,” I shot back, resting my hands on his chest for balance. “Now talk. What is the Lifewell?”

Malcolm chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated against my palms. “Think of it as…a fountain.”

“A fountain,” I repeated flatly. Mom didn’t send me to Whispering Ivy to find out about some fucking fountain. “Yeah, right.”

“A fountain of energy,” he clarified.

I tried to ignore the heat of him searing through me. This was torture. I bit down on the inside of my cheek.

“An ancient fountain of energy,” he said.

“An ancient fountain of energy,” I echoed, letting the words roll around in my head. “What kind of energy?”

“Kind of like the fountain of youth, but…different. Wait,” he said, repositioning himself so he leaned back on his pillows, freeing his hands.

Before I could blink, he had hold of my nipples. They were already hard pebbles, my tits tight and aching and heavy, but when his thumbs and forefingers clamped down on them in a relentless squeeze, the agony was instant and excruciating, shooting through my entire body.

I shrieked, tears springing into my eyes, which Malcolm found just delightful. He laughed as I smacked at his arms and shoulders.

“I said you could pinch them, you asshole, not snatch them off.”

He let go. “It was worth it. Damn, you would not believe how tight your cunt got.”

“Do that again and I swear to god, I’ll hop off your cock and do the same thing to it so you can see how it feels,” I warned, cupping my breasts in my hands.

I was going to need a damn ice pack.

“Anyway,” he said simply. “It was here, this fountain, but it dried up long ago, and Whispering Ivy was built over it. The end.”

Well, I could slice the nose off my face with a cheese grater and still be able to smell that bullshit.

I thought about what that girl Lena had told me, about the project she was working on for a Local Folklore and Regional Heritage class, about the Seven Forces of Life and the gods supposedly controlling them.

“By supernatural energy, do you mean the Seven Forces of Life?” I asked.

“Who the fuck told you about the Seven Forces of Life?” he demanded.

I nodded. His reaction told me all I needed to know.

Holy fuck. Everything Lena told me… There was truth to it all.

Still, I pushed on. “And the Seven Forces of Life are controlled by…gods?”

His face went pale, which brought up another question—how the fuck was a vampire so goddamned tan?

This is dangerous, I thought, the warning unbidden. Do not say another word. Trust no one.

“The Vitae Sovereign, right?” I blurted.

“We’re done,” he said suddenly. “Get off me and get out.”

No, Mal Ol’ Pal, we are done when I fucking say so.

I clenched around him, earning a sharp intake of breath and an undeniable flash of pleasure in his eyes. “Why?”

“Because you’re not human and—”

“You’re still rock hard,” I purred, moving my hips back and forth ever so slightly. “Don’t you still want to finish what we started earlier?”

“No! Because I don’t know what the fuck you are.”

“I’m just a plain ol’ human street leach gutter trash whore who is real, real, real good at fucking.” I leaned over and pressed a line of kisses across his chest.

“No,” he said, grabbing my shoulders and pushing me up. “Humans do not know as much as you know about the Lifewell. Period.”

What? I knew practically nothing, and a good chunk of that was the ridiculous lies he’d just spun.

“You were never actually going to tell me anything,” I spat out.

“I sure as shit was not,” he said. “The only humans who know about the Lifewell are humans who shouldn’t.”

Huh… That was very interesting. Because Connor and Dean Bennett knew about the Lifewell. So…did that mean they were humans who shouldn’t know about it…or did that mean they were…not human?

“What—?” I began.

A sound in the hallway.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

“Hear what?” Malcolm asked.

And that’s when the door swung open.