“If I don’t get eaten first.” A claim that triggered a new worry. “What if I get hungry? Pretty sure I’ll get in trouble if I eat one of the guests.”
“Only if you drain them dry and without permission.”
“There’s people who want to be bitten?” I couldn’t help my surprise.
“It wouldn’t be a vampire party without some live food.” He flashed some fangs when he grinned. “But if you’re worried you might drain them to death then there are wait staff moving around with trays of beverages and snacks. Just watch for the ones offering fresh hemoglobin.” As he spoke, Cillian snared a fluted wine glass full of dark red liquid from a man in a dark vest who passed by. “Here, try this.” He handed it over and I eyed it with suspicion.
“Doesn’t smell or look like blood.”
“I assure you, it is plasma, just not from a human.”
“From what then?”
“Knowing Sophia, something rare. Drink up and then mingle while I say hello to a few people.”
“I can’t believe you’re ditching me already,” I grumbled.
“People will be more apt to speak and befriend you if I’m not by your side.”
“Why, are you disliked or something?”
“Something,” his vague reply. “If you’ll excuse me, I want to say hello to Bertrand as it’s been years since we’ve been in the same room.”
Cillian strode away and I clutched the glass so hard it was a wonder the stem didn’t snap. Despite knowing it wasn’t a fortifying wine I chugged it, and damn. Shit was tasty. I snared another glass to have something to hold as I began to wander.
This might sound dumb given my age, but how did one muster the courage to go up to actual strangers and start a conversation? It might have been easier if I’d spotted someone standing off by themselves, however everywhere I looked people hung out in clusters of two or more.
A glance at Cillian showed him having an intense conversation with several rather attractive men and Sophia—who saw me looking and I swear intentionally dragged her fingers down Cillian’s arm.
Jealousy bit me hard even as I had no right to feel it. I chugged my glass of blood, snagged yet another, and ended up standing at the base of the Christmas tree looking up, way up. How did they get it inside?
“Not easily. It takes quite a few strapping men to get it through the double doors. One of them died when they cut the string binding it and didn’t move fast enough.”
I whirled to gape at the man talking to me. The one who’d read my mind. Or had I spoken aloud?
His lips quirked. “Sorry. You were thinking rather loudly.”
And my new thought probably screamed since I noticed his horns and immediately the devil came to mind.
He smiled even wider. “I get that a lot, actually, but I’m more like the less cool cousin. I’m a satyr.”
Soon as he said it, my gaze dropped to his feet. Er, hooves. Well, damn.
“First time meeting non-humans?” he said still sounding amused.
“Guess it’s a little obvious.”
“You do have a wide-eyed look about you, yes.”
“I was only made into a vampire less than two weeks ago.”
“Ah, just a fledgling,” the satyr teased.
“I’m Skylar,” I stated holding out my free hand.
To my surprise, rather than shake, he lifted it to his lips and placed a kiss on the back. “A pleasure. I’m Tom.”
“Tom?” I blurted surprised at his simple name.
