I should have known that this is where our conversation was going.Did Aila not just tell me she knew what I did at Harry’s Saloon?
Mirroring her position, I face her.“Feeding.And it’s not my kink, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Aila shakes her head, moving her hair away so that the sticky strands don’t glue to her skin.“No, that’s not what I was thinking.You’re a vampire, aren’t you?Everyone on Landslide—all the beautiful people—you’re all vampires.”
“When did you, you know, work it out?”
Aila rolls her eyes.“Duh.When you sucked my blood just now.Not even the most iron deficient psycho on earth is going to fuck me and then bite me.Not with my mom so close by.My overprotective, worrying mother… Plus, you punched right through a steel-framed crock pot into the wall.”
Heaving a sigh, I have to ask.“What are you trying to say, Aila?Don’t you want to be friends anymore?”
She giggles, falling onto her back as she tries to make sense of it.
“You’re so cold.You fall down when the sun catches you.All the shutters on the chalet windows are closed.You’ve never asked me out on a normal date.But that’s not what gave you away.Besides the bite, I mean.”
“Well, darlin’.”I have to grin.“Here I am, waiting for you to drop the hammer.What gave me away?”
Shifting close to me, Aila drapes her legs over my waist.We lie there face to face, those special parts of our bodies only inches away, and yes, I’m ready to begin fucking all over again.
Slowly, Aila touches my face, moving her dark eyes from one feature to the next, a rapt expression as she absorbs the sensation I give her.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about the night we first met.It made no sense that you would leave like that.We were fire together, Theron.For so long I thought you just abandoned me, but I was wrong.You made Mister Flashy Belt Buckle regret pulling that stunt, didn’t you?”
Putting on a precise legal accent, I make a joke of it.
“I can neither confirm nor deny the whereabouts of Mister Theron ‘Hunter’ Rabane’s son on the night in question.”
Leaning in, she presses those full lips of hers down on my mouth.Immediately, Aila pulls away and wrinkles her nose.“Ugh.You taste like my blood.And my pussy.It’s like licking a blood-flavored cream pie.”
That breaks the ice.We laugh.And for one moment, I think that we can just go back to fucking each other again.But Aila stops me.
“Tell me where you come from, Theron.I promise not to tell anyone.I mean, I have no desire to be categorized as some weirdo conspiracy theory nut job.”
Falling back, I drape the covers over my crotch, because I am enjoying our post-coital closeness.
“Nah, sweetheart.You don’t want to be bored shitless by stories about the Midnight Riders.At the end of the day, we are a lawless bike gang, out for blood and mayhem, dedicated to feeding on the weaker sex and filling their dreams with fucking and fantasy.”
Climbing onto me and leaning her chin on my chest, Aila hugs me tightly.
“Theron, that isexactlythe kind of story I want to hear.”
My memories of that time are full of pain and suffering.
The rumors of a death cult rampaging close to our home began spreading in early spring.It was said they worshiped a goddess of death, a woman so beautiful that one look at her face could strike a man dead.She had to be carried in a tent, raised on a platform on the shoulders of her priests, hidden from the raw-white winter sun.
Survivors spoke of crazed hordes roaming over the mountains and forests, a huge army willing to live or die for the glory of the Red Queen.
At first, we put the rumors down to myths and legends, yarns spun by shamans who had ingested too much mushroom mold while dancing around the campfire.
But we were so wrong.
That’s the trouble with those who lived close to the land of Eternal Ice: life was already challenging enough without us adding suspicion and drama.
You might have noticed this personality trait in the Midnight Riders.We are stoical and monosyllabic, because it’s in our blood.And when we finally get to talking, well, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that we are men of action, and not many words.
Those ancient tribes who lived around what is now the northwest part of Russia and Lapland, they tracked the reindeer herds as far as the Grinding Ice Sea.The harsh climate forced them to breed out all the weakness and emotion from their children.These are useless attitudes to have during such tough times if you come to think about it.
If a man wasn’t brawny, brave, and uncomplaining, he was banished or forbidden to breed.No exceptions.And with so many Alpha males striding around, it was also forbidden to fight amongst ourselves or bitch behind someone’s back.
