Chapter 8
Sebastian
“… Serenity, Sebastian,” Mom was saying.
I repeated the name with the beat of my heart. Serenity. Serenity.
“… explored this beautiful city much…”
I knew not to stare, but she practically glowed, angelic and impossible to miss.
She even smelled like heaven—sweet and decadent like chocolate.
My gaze swept over every inch of her, and the magnetism only compounded, creating a deep ache to get closer.
To protect her. To do and be anything she might need. To be one with her.
So, this was why knights bent the knee at the feet of their lady fair. This was why they threw themselves on her mercy and on her enemies’ swords.
Because to even turn my face away would hurt. Because she was everything good and right in the world. The feelings washed over me until I could no longer deny it: I’d found my mate.
Pure, unadulterated joy spread through my body in warm, honeyed rivulets.
Fated mates were so rare among vampires.
It was almost a thing of myths and legends.
I’d never expected to find one, especially not as a half-vamp, much as I’d longed for that deep, binding love.
I’d consoled myself with the fact I could still have a meaningful romance whenever I found the right woman.
But the Fates had smiled. I’d taken the New Nebraska Breaking News position mostly to help out Mom at the shelter. The career boost to statewide reporting was just a bonus. But this? Meeting my destined soul mate? Beyond my wildest expectations.
I contained my raging emotions behind a calm and broad smile, not wanting to freak her out if the bond wasn’t yet forming for her, too.
Then her hazel eyes properly locked to mine, and all my enthusiasm gushed out through loose lips. “Hey, great to meet you, Serenity!”
God, why did I say “great” like that. Ugh.
I was fan-boying so hard my fangs had lengthened, peeking just below my lip. Short as they were, she noticed, eyes dipping to my mouth. She creaked a quivering smile, returning my greeting with a short, “Hi.”
Taking two subtle steps backward, toward the exit to the kitchen, she cast a nervous glance to a mountainous shifter—he had to be a grizzly at that size—who was leaning against the wall in the far corner, staring at his phone.
Damn, was he her boyfriend?
No. The second he looked our way, my vamp-powered perceptions reassured me—not a hint of jealousy crossed his face. Though he did seem to note my fangs, like Serenity had, and began staring at me with a scrutinizing eye. Prejudiced a-hole.
I extended my hand to Serenity. “Mom’s been singing your praises. I feel like I’m meeting a celebrity.”
Avoiding my offer of a handshake, folding her arms instead. Her jaw tightened and the skin around her eyes pinched, as if restraining a scowl. Her tone was cold, business-like, as she replied, “Your mom’s too kind. I just try my best.”
I bit my cheek, wondering what I’d done or what vibe I was giving off, when a few words floated into my mind, making me gasp.
Yuck. And why…
She’d said them, but her lips hadn’t moved at all…
I’d just read her thoughts! Snippets anyway.
I’d heard some mates had special mental connections. I never thought I ‘d get to experience one. I concentrated on the pull between us, and more fragmented words slipped into my mind.
Maybe… cancel the class… back to… Hunter’s place.
The words scraped like barbs over my brain—pissed or upset.
Did she have a thing against vamps, too?
The stigma was more common with humans, but…
did that mean she wasn’t feeling anything I was?
Who was Hunter? My heart ached in my chest, and I struggled to maintain my slipping smile.
Mom rubbed my arm, giddy as ever at the prospect of me making a new friend.
Maybe I was imagining Serenity’s standoffish posture.
Then I caught sight of the mark on her neck.
Though layered thick in makeup, blotches of scarring peeked through.
Some piece of shit had attacked her. Only the deepest and most vicious plunge of vampire fangs could’ve done that.
Only a monster would feed in such a way.
No wonder she wasn’t eager to meet another vamp.
I made my smile close-lipped, hoping to make her more comfortable, but a sudden hunger pang—short but vicious—almost made me grunt. I needed to stop by the blood bank on my way home. This was the exact wrong time to have my vamp half complaining.
Face strained, scolding myself for only eating a human breakfast of eggs and toast, I took a deep breath and said, “The more humans these kids meet, the better. You teach art, right?”
Still hugging herself with her head turned decidedly away from me, she jumped her brows. “Yeah.”
“She’s the best art teacher we’ve ever had,” Mom chirped. She’d always been a bit oblivious to the fact my half-vamp heritage made some people uncomfortable. With my stunted fangs and rosy cheeks, she’d always viewed me as human, my need to drink blood an occasional after thought.
More of Serenity’s thoughts barraged my mind, striking me like lashes of a whip.
Why did Beatrice… vamp friend? A rabid Pitbull… better… they don’t sleaze over you.
My mate, the one the Fates had chosen for me, despised me.
I kept my composure—barely. “So, mom says you’re going to work at Midas? That’s awesome. I’m—”
“Maybe,” she snipped, a tight smile crimping the skin around suspicious eyes. “It’s far from certain.”
The front door jangled, and the kids started flooding in. Their enthusiasm curbed my despair and provided a necessary distraction to regroup.
They were such a lively, wonderful bunch, most of them half-breeds or even less “pure” than that, from the city’s poorer areas. All of them looked overjoyed to see Serenity and my mom.
“Hi, Ms. Dawson! Will you teach us to paint flowers today?” asked one slender girl of about twelve who looked like a half-breed elemental. The way she’d wisped in through the doors, her feet dancing almost entirely off the floor, told me she had to be of the wind type.
Excusing herself, Serenity walked over and welcomed the girl with a playful cheek pinch and hug. “That was what I promised, right? No flicking paint at the boys this time though, okay? Promise? It’s not respectful and they’re only trying to learn, just like you.”
The girl’s mouth twisted up in a guilty grin. “Yes, Ms. Dawson. I promise.”
It was hard to tear myself away from Serenity, knowing I’d bungled her first impression, but we went off to start our different classes in separate corners of the spacious hall.
My mom was an expert at crafting puppets out of all sorts of textiles and recycled materials, and some of the younger kids flocked to that.
I’d always been gifted at charcoal sketching and that attracted a few of the older teens, especially when I busted out some of my old work—sketches of dragons and other beasts from my favorite video games—as examples.
But about two thirds of the kids of all ages crowded round to learn painting techniques from my mate.
I watched from afar, drawn again and again by her laugh.
Each time I looked up, she was covered in yet more paint.
It dotted her fingertips, her painter’s overalls.
She’d even streaked some over her nose, probably with her animated hand gestures as she encouraged the kids to let loose, to paint anything that came to mind—purple cats or fruit with wings, which got them all giggling.
I sat enraptured, forgetting where I was until one of my kids shoved his sketchbook under my nose with a loud, “Hellooo.” Even as I offered him pointers, my eyes drifted Serenity’s way, unwilling to look at anything else after they’d seen real beauty.
How was I going to convince her that—
A scream rang out from beyond the hall’s doors, where the kitchen was. I rushed toward it, my vamp blood making me twice as fast as anyone around me. Serenity, my mom and that hulking shifter followed, along with a gaggle of scared-looking kids.
“Stay back, get back to your seats,” Serenity warned the kids who tried to chase after us.
“Help! Help!” A teen girl, who must’ve been the one to scream, raced down the hall from the kitchen toward us.
I passed her, thumped open the double doors, and stifled a curse. Cold horror doused my head, dulling the sudden, hungry constriction of my stomach.
There, convulsing on the faded tiling of the kitchen floor, spatters of blood circling his body as he writhed and foamed at the mouth, was one of the older boys.
I stood frozen, sickened at the sight. I enjoyed blood.
But not like this.