Bonded Through Bite (Their Eternal Devotion #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Samantha

The blood moon casts faint shadows through my window and shivers run down my spine. I’ve always been sensitive to the full moon, but lately, it’s been getting worse, and the red hue of the moon looks dark and menacing.

Or it could be my impending death that’s giving me those vibes. Who knows? I’m sure my witchy best friend would have lots to say on the matter. But even she can’t deny the truth. My time is running out.

I pull out a beautiful red dress from the closet, one I haven’t used in ages.

A memory from happier times. It feels like the right choice to wear tonight.

I pair it with high heels that have roses in them.

The heels look like thorns and are a bitch to walk on, but I’m willing to suffer them tonight.

I’m finally going to give in to the temptation that is Mr. Too Hot To Be True, Rafael Moretti. In fact, I’m going to throw myself at him and pray that he can make good on the promises he made me.

The man is probably listed on every eligible bachelor list in this world. He looks like he’s in his early thirties and he’s a billionaire. What more could you want?

His lack of a heartbeat used to be a deal breaker for me. And his penchant for drinking blood.

I wonder what the gossip sites would say if they knew he was a vampire. Probably lust after him even more.

It’s still a mystery to me how I caught his eye at the Lair three years ago.

I was having a girls’ night out, dancing, drinking, trying to forget the news I’d just got, and then he was there.

Dark eyes, styled hair, a suit that cost more than my yearly salary at the cleaning service. And he wanted to dance with me.

I didn’t realize he was a vampire at first and when I did, I still had a hard time saying no. I expected him to kill me when he figured out I knew what he was. Supes are super secretive and even my witchy friend, Thea, likes to keep a low profile.

But he didn’t kill me. He didn’t even try to compel me to forget.

The next time I went to the Lair, he was there again. And the time after that. At some point, I found myself talking to him. We never met outside the club. That was my boundary, and he respected it.

He’s been the light in my darkness these last years. Ironic, really, but true.

My escape from reality.

And still, I’ve never slept with him. Never allowed him to even kiss me. For three years.

I’ve been saying no to sex with him for three fucking years.

I’m such a dumbass.

But no more.

That is, if he’s still interested. I hope he is.

Glancing at the moon, I send out a quick wish. I’m not saying no anymore. I’m freshly out of reasons to say no. I’ve got nothing to lose.

I just want to feel alive for one night.

This time the shivers that run down my spine turn to tingles that wake up my body with anticipation. Either he’ll say yes, and I’ll have the best night of my life… or he says no. I’m willing to risk it. It’s not like I have to suffer the mortification for long.

Quickly, I pull on the dress and smooth my hands over the silky fabric.

It clings to my breasts as I secure the clasp on the halter top, making it pretty clear I’m not wearing a bra.

The dress leaves my back bare and I glance at the purple butterfly on my shoulder blade. It looks ready to fly with me.

After slipping on the heels, I twirl a little in front of the mirror to test my balance. The hem stays just low enough to stop me from flashing anyone, and the heels feel surprisingly comfortable.

My pixie cut hair looks messy but cute, and the shadows under my eyes are barely discernible through the layers of makeup. As a last step, I unclasp the silver pendant from my neck and place it on the bedside table.

No mixed signals tonight.

A smile spreads over my face. I’m ready.

My phone pings with a notification and I grab my little purse, heading out to the waiting cab. The back seat is chilly against my bare legs and back, but I ignore it, focusing on my phone and willing the screen to light up with a message from Rafael.

Streetlights flash by as the car speeds toward downtown. I check the app, just in case the notification didn’t come through, and cringe. No reply. It would serve me right if after all these years, he didn’t show up.

Breathe, Samantha. Breathe.

You’ve got this.

A sharp pain spears my frontal lobe, but I ignore that even more expertly than the chilliness of the back seat. None of that matters anymore.

The cab pulls in front of the Lair and I get out, eyeing the line of people waiting to get in.

It’s the hottest club in town and the line curves behind the corner.

I have neither the time nor the patience to wait in line that long.

I’ll talk myself out of this plan before I get anywhere near the velvet rope.

A couple of deep breaths steel my resolve and I walk straight to the entrance. I used to come here often, not so much these last six months, but the bouncer still recognizes me. He flashes a little fang and steps aside, letting me inside without a hassle.

“Thanks,” I murmur, careful not to tilt my head in invitation.

Rafael made sure I knew all the necessary social niceties, since he ‘didn’t want to behead someone’ for tasting me.

I thought he was kidding at first, but when a visiting vamp from another district tried to compel me for a drink, he lost his fangs.

So, I guess not.

What I didn’t tell Rafael, or the de-fanged vamp, is that compulsion doesn’t work on me.

Never has. That’s how I first learned about vampires existing in the first place.

I knew about witches and some other shenanigans—it’s hard not to when your bff is a witch—but vampires were a revelation for me.

At least after that, Thea was able to fill me in on other supes.

Witches, vampires, and shifters being the largest populations.

It makes me feel special to be in the know.

The general population thinks that vampires and the goth décor are just a theme at the Lair.

In a way, it’s true; they just don’t know how deep the theme truly goes.

The blood-themed drinks are sometimes just blood, and the bite marks the staff wear are not makeup.

The music blasts me the moment I step through the second doors and I take in the familiar setting. Flashing lights cascade from the crystal chandeliers, the dance floor is packed, and there’s a faint smell of something sweet in the air.

The Lair has deep booths lining the walls that offer privacy, draped in deep burgundy fabrics trimmed with black satin. They never look worn or have stains on them. I suspect they are spelled, but I never asked since, according to Thea, vampires and witches don’t get along.

I weave between bodies toward the bar. The counter is painted black and accented with red lights, the wall behind it filled with bottles and ‘blood bags.’ I know for certain that the real ones are kept refrigerated.

The bar is slammed, but I wedge myself between two groups and wait for my turn. I hate people who make a big show of ordering drinks, like they are something special, and can’t wait for their turn. If they truly were such a big deal, they would be in the VIP section being waited on.

I recognize Mick and smile when he stops in front of me. “And what will you have?” he asks absent-mindedly.

“Something strong,” I reply, and his eyes snap up.

“Sam? Is that really you?”

“It’s wondrous what a shower and some mascara can do,” I say, laughing. I know I look different than my usual outfit of tank top, jeans, and no makeup.

Mick blinks and keeps staring before visibly shaking himself out of it. “Your usual?”

“Nope. Something with alcohol. With lots of alcohol.” There’s no need to hold back on drinking anymore. And I might need that little final push to follow through with my plans.

“You okay?” Mick frowns and I flash a bright smile at him.

“Just letting my hair down a little,” I say and run my hand over my hair, ruffling it a bit. The trip to the salon to get it dyed deep blue was definitely worth the money. And the color sort of matches my eyes, too.

I feel more like myself than I have in three years.

Ever since those persistent migraines turned out to be something else.

I pulled into my shell then, focused on getting better and making smart choices…

like not getting tangled up with a vampire.

Biting back a snort, I force the smile to stay on my face.

I forgot how to be… me.

Mick looks me up and down again and with extra flair, he spins the bottles, mixes a drink, and then pours it over a line of shot glasses.

I lift my brow at him and chuckling, he throws back the last shot.

I grab one on the other end of the line and chug it.

It tastes like cotton candy and I make a face at the horrible sweetness.

“You trying to kill me?” I choke out.

“Picky.” Mick shakes his head in mock sorrow. I down the second shot and it tastes more like a fruit punch. Curious, I drink the next one and it has a hint of coconut in it. I like coconut. I reach for the last shot and stick my tongue out at the grinning Mick.

“Cocky.” I throw the shot back and groan in delight as the fresh mint coats my mouth. “Wizard,” I add, and he laughs at the nickname. I dig my wallet out, but he shakes his head.

“On the house. Now go shake that ass on the dance floor and give a poor man something to look at.”

“Thanks!” I stash away my wallet and eye the crowd. There are people on the floor, but it’s not packed as tight as some other nights. My eyes wander over the VIP section, but Rafael is nowhere to be seen.

Fuck.

It’s not like I can just come back another night and try again. The clock is ticking and I really don’t want to go home alone tonight.

I eye the crowd again. If not him, then I’ll find someone else.

Some part of me recoils at that idea. My body doesn’t want anyone else, hasn’t for years. Too bad it doesn’t get a vote tonight.