As I worked my way to the exit, I happened to glance through an arch and stopped dead. I’d found Cillian, and he wasn’t alone.
A young woman—with a steady heartbeat I could hear from where I stood—posed before him, head tilted back, hands cupping a bountiful bosom, offering up her cleavage as a meal. He eyed it, nothing more, and yet jealousy raged through me.
While I had no claim on him, I couldn’t watch him eat. I needed out of here. Brimming with emotion, I stalked for the main doors, passing by occupied seats and settees, only to suddenly find myself grabbed and dragged into a lap.
My startled gaze fell on a guy, probably late twenties, dirty blonde hair, handsome, wearing nothing but bootie shorts. Very human, judging by the way I could hear his blood pounding. Oh, and that blood also found its way to the growing bulge under my bottom. Awkward.
“Well, hello there, sexy. You look like you need a bite,” he stated, tilting his head to the side, showing off the column of his neck.
“I’m not hungry,” I stated. The truth. Those glasses of plasma I’d downed kept my ravenous need in check.
“Vampire babies are always hungry. And I promise I am delicious. Have a taste.” He cupped my head and dragged it to his neck, forcing my lips against his flesh. But I didn’t bite. I didn’t appreciate his aggressiveness.
“I said no,” I grumbled pulling my face away.
Before I could shove myself free, I found myself lifted and tucked behind a broad tuxedoed back, manhandled with ease by none other than Cillian.
It would appear my maker wasn’t happy.
“Since when does Sophia allow her pets to lay hands on her guests without permission?” he growled.
“The lady looked upset. I was just trying to please,” exclaimed the young man.
“She said no and you ignored her.”
“Uh.”
A fang-showing Cillian dragged the guy from the chair and held him aloft by the neck. “Do you know what happens to people who take liberties with those under my protection?”
Sophia suddenly appeared by his side. “Put Marco down, Cillian.”
“He offended me,” growled my maker.
“I think he’s aware of that fact,” Sophia’s dry reply.
“Is he?” Cillian hissed giving Marco a shake.
“I’m surprised by you. You’re not one to usually make a scene.”
The rebuke caused Cillian to drop Marco. Literally. The guy hit the floor in a heap and stayed there, head down, groveling.
A stoney-faced Cillian growled, “You might want to send this one back for more training, or the next person he insults might not be as lenient.”
“I’ll ensure Marco is dealt with. Now, why don’t you and your protégé come with me and try a special vintage I’ve been saving.”
“Thank you for the invitation, but Skylar and I will be leaving now.”
“So soon?” Sophia pouted. “But it’s barely past one, and the entertainment is about to begin.”
“I’m no longer in the mood.” Cillian’s less than warm words to Sophia. He hooked his arm around my waist and practically carried me as we headed for the exit.
“I’m sorry for ruining the evening,” I muttered.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“Then why are you so pissed? Nothing happened and I could have handled that guy without your help.”
“You should not have had to do anything. That servant knew he wasn’t allowed to lay hands on you or any other guest without invitation. It’s part of their training to avoid incidents. A predator will strike if startled. You would have been justified tearing out his throat.”
