Chapter Five
In a way, Verity’s disastrous first support group had been a nice distraction. Her mind spun like it used to when chasing a story. Mike’s explosion. Vivienne’s question. the mysterious “club” Adam mentioned. All three felt off, but she couldn’t find anything online.
Tea steamed beside her as she worked, a little stronger than she preferred but she wasn’t about to complain when her dad brought it up for her.
He hated her working for the Exchange. It wasn’t that he despised vampires, he just didn’t trust them either.
Especially after what had happened to Verity.
So now her father fussed. Bringing her tea and biscuits whenever they were both home, doing her laundry and offering to drive her around.
She fought most of it, insisting she could take care of herself, but she could hardly send him away when he brought her tea.
He needed to help, so she let him. A bit.
One line she refused to cross was letting him change her mum’s craft room for her to stay in. She wouldn’t disrupt their lives any more than necessary, it wasn’t like she’d be there forever.
The smallest bedroom, her bedroom, in the terrace house she grew up in had always been cramped. A single bed, a small desk and a chest of drawers was all it could fit. When she had been fifteen, Verity and her mum had sponge painted the walls in a pale lavender, trying to brighten up the space.
That same patchy purple surrounded her now as she tried to piece together what she’d heard at group and work out why none of it sat quite right with her.
Vivienne Green: Ambassador for Border Relations. But what was she doing in a donor support group in Ashhaven? The city wasn’t near a border. Verity tried to find out what her job actually entailed but came up short. Every article was vague corporate-speak.
Mike Johnson: husband, father, donor. His only digital footprint was a FriendsHaven account he shared with his wife, the woman who’d chased after him at the meeting. Sparse posts. Nothing useful.
And the club: a big fat nothing. Although it was hardly specific. She wouldn’t have cared if not for the way everyone reacted to the word.
She found Adam online too. His FriendsHaven was a riot of colours and smiles, parties and nights out with friends. It looked as though he’d moved back to Ashhaven recently too, but found no obvious reason, just more photos with family than before.
But nothing from the night he would have been at “the club”. In fact, there were few posts since his joining the Exchange. She didn’t blame him. Being a donor wasn’t the sort of thing you’d want to advertise.
There had been no call from Adam after group either. He replied to texts, but even his messages felt off. Short and humourless. Verity couldn’t pretend to know him well, but the sudden loss of his cheery messages irritated her. One word from Probably-Sienna, and he ditched her.
Despite her abandonment, she enjoyed having something to think about, even if she didn’t get anywhere with her online stalking; but soon enough Monday came around, and it was time to see Theo again.
She stopped by Cora’s café first. It was on the way to City Hall anyway, and she needed a pep talk. They talked openly in the deserted cafe, Verity telling her all about her terrible support group meeting.
As usual, Cora’s pearls of wisdom included “fuck ‘em all,” “what a load of twats,” and “tell ’em to suck it.” Not exactly constructive but comforting to know someone was on her side.
By the time she left, her mood had vastly improved. Venting and laughter lightened her heart. That was, until City Hall came into view and she remembered her last appointment.
The arousal. The growling. Stella’s knowing look.
It wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t.
Please, gods, don’t let it happen again.
She walked up the marble stairs and into the building, heading up the staircases one after another until she found herself in front of Stella again.
“Evening,” Verity greeted her with a smile.
Stella’s stony stare bore into her over the computer monitor before picking up the phone. “She’s here,” Stella said into the receiver, before hanging up. “You can go in.”
Well, I guess we aren’t going to be friends either.
Verity turned away from the cold vampire and headed for the door, knocking twice before opening it slowly in case Theo lurked on the other side again.
He wasn’t, and when she popped her head inside, she found him sat at his desk, fingers dancing across the keyboard.
She stepped in, closing the door before hanging her coat on a chair and taking a seat.
Waiting. Not wanting to disturb his flow.
He looked tired. Face a little drawn, circles under his grey eyes.
Verity didn’t like it.
“Right, Miss Harper,” he said, standing with a tight nod. “Any complications since your last visit?”
Miss Harper? What the fuck happened to Mr Call-Me-Theo?
“Erm, no. Everything’s fine.”
He nodded, bringing her a glass of water and taking the seat opposite her. Their eyes only met for a second, but the coldness of his gaze stung.
Had he heard about the meeting? Did he blame her for everyone hating her? Or maybe it had been an act before. Being nice to get fed.
Or maybe… oh gods. Maybe, he had smelt how turned on she was. He knew and now he wanted to make sure she knew her place. Verity wanted to curl up in a ball and die. Mortification stained her cheeks. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t do it on purpose.
“Ready?” he asked, holding a hand out.
She shoved her hand in his and turned her face away, lips pursed and eyes stinging. How fucking dare he? There was no doubt in her mind that he knew after the first appointment. Had Stella mentioned it? Had they discussed her?
The slow breath she pulled through her nose wasn’t enough to quell the embarrassment that was shifting into anger.
He held her wrist, staring at it, watching the blood thrum through her veins.
Theo sighed. “Why are you here?”
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“Why are you here? Donating?”
“I told you, I need the money.”
“So, you’re not writing another article?”
“What?” Her face snapped to his as she yanked her hand out of his grip.
“I looked you up,” he said, voice even, emotionless. “Seems odd for someone who hates vampires to join the exchange.”
“Oh, yeah? Did you even read the article?” she snapped.
“I’ve got more important things to do than spending my weekend searching for a redacted article, but I hear it was pretty scathing.”
“Yeah, it was. Humans were dying in factories in Stonehaven because the owners, who just so happened to be vampires, couldn’t be bothered to update safety equipment.
” She stood, grabbing her coat from the chair.
The tears she had been fighting won and she let them roll down her cheeks.
Let him see how lost and desperate and angry she was.
“I don’t hate vampires. I didn’t write about all vampires.
I wrote about them. But if you think that a few rich vampires’ pockets are more important than the lives of humans... ”
Was this her life now? Only holding down a job until someone looked her up?
Maybe she would be stuck with her parents forever.
Theo seemed different, acting like he wanted to get to know her, but at the end of the day he was a vampire.
She didn’t hate vampires, but the division in wealth, in opportunities and lifestyle was undeniable, and that would never sit right with her.
She marched toward the door, but Theo was in front of her before her hand could find the handle. His speed made her stumble but he caught her before she careened straight into him.
“No,” he said, as she pushed out of his hands and walked back toward the desk, needing distance from him. “No, of course I don’t think that.”
“I lost everything for that fucking article. That, Lord Chapel, is why I’m here, because no one else will have me.”
He flinched when she called him Lord. Good! Those tired eyes turned pleading as he followed after her, before snagging on her shaking hands as she gripped her coat.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, Verity. I couldn’t find the article and assumed the worst. I should have asked you.”
“Yeah, you should have,” she said.
“You really lost your job over it?”
“Yup.”
“And you had evidence?” he asked, stepping a little closer as if he didn’t want to spook her.
“Of course, I had evidence,” she snapped. “People were dead.”
He held his hands up in surrender.
“I lost everything. Everything! The whistleblower lost her job, but her family’s loaded. They managed to spin it to make her sound like some fucking saint. But me? No job, no car, no home. Nothing.” Her voice began to shake, adding to her frustration.
Theo closed his eyes. “Verity, I am so sorry.”
“Me too,” she murmured, “everyone told me not to, but I thought I knew better.”
“It would seem that knowing right from wrong is a rare gift these days,” Theo said.
“You can say that again.”
Running hands through his hair, he slumped back into his seat. “I feel terrible. I should never have assumed that… If there’s anything I can do to help…”
As insulted as she felt, this could actually be useful.
“You could clear a couple of things up for me,” she said, taking her seat opposite him.
“Of course; anything.”
“Why did you get a new donor?”
Theo frowned. “The Exchange just told me I had a new donor. My old one left.”
Verity shook her head. “Nope, he didn’t leave. And he hates me.”
Theo pulled a face, creased brow and pouty lips. The kind that made her forget he was some fancy Lord Mayor. “Maybe we’re a better match.”
“Like blood type?” Verity asked.
“Kind of.” He held a hand out and Verity gave him hers without thinking.
She could pull it back, she was still mad at him after all, but his touch soothed her more than she’d care to admit.
“There’s actually more to it than that. Years ago, we called it being blood-bonded; now we know it’s just science.
When we… feed,” he began massaging her palm.
“We need a lot of blood to satisfy our hunger, but having blood that suits you means you don’t need as much. ”
“And my blood suits you?” Verity asked, watching his fingers run over the lines of her palm.
“Very much.” His eyes met hers and she could see the hunger in them. He watched her with predatory stillness, until Verity spoke again, pulling him back to the moment.
“Next question.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “There are more?”
“Vivienne Green?” she asked.
Theo grimaced. “Ugh, what does she want?”
“She was at the donor meeting. You know her?”
“Yeah,” Theo sighed. “We applied for the same job once and she got it.”
“So, she’s a bitch?”
“No,” Theo laughed.
“So, you’re bitter?”
“Ouch! Next question?”
Verity smirked, unconvinced there wasn’t more to the story. “Fine. What about the club?”
“What club?” Theo asked, eyes back on her hand.
“I don’t know, might not be anything.”
Theo shrugged but there was a set to his brow that didn’t fully convince her.
“Theo?” Verity probed, and he looked back up. Was that the first time she had spoken his name to him?
He searched her face for a second before asking, “it was mentioned at the meeting?”
“Yeah.”
He shifted in his chair. “Well… there are some clubs that humans and vampires can go to.”
“Can’t humans and vampires go to most clubs?” Verity asked.
“Yes, but it’s… different.”
“How?”
“It just is, Verity. If you ever get invited, don’t go,” he said.
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated. Just, please Verity, promise me you won’t go,” he begged.
If it had been anyone else, Verity would have stared them down, but she knew she wouldn’t win a staring contest. So instead, she said, “Fine.”
“Promise?”
“Gods, Theo. I promise.”
He nodded, brow easing. “Ready?” he asked, raising her wrist to his mouth.
No sooner had she nodded than he sank his fangs into the sensitive skin. She looked away wincing at the pain, and the flush of need that coursed through her as he began sucking.
This time, however, it was a little easier to distract herself.
Mike? Not her fault.
Vivienne? Theo’s career rival.
The club? Well, that she needed to know more about. A lot more.
Luckily the only thing she promised was not accepting invitations. Theo said nothing about turning up uninvited.