“Has my motorcycle arrived? I thought I still had at least another month before I could even expect it.”
“No... Itiswhy I’m calling. Your bike shouldn’t have been arriving for at least another six weeks...but a motorcycle arrived in your name today. One that was not the right color or the right specs. We assumed it was a system glitch, and that someone else’s was switched with yours. But on looking further, we couldn’t find your original order, even though we received a bike in your name.”
Fucking hell. “What now?”
“We have reordered. And we put a rush notice on it, but...”
“But?” he ground out.
“It more than likely will take at least another two, possibly three, months. Orders are even more backed up than when you first purchased. We understand this is an inconvenience, and as a gesture of goodwill we will be offering two free oil changes, tire rotations, and an upgrade on your warranty.”
“Just call me when it’s in.” He rolled his eyes and flipped his phone closed.
Harlow stiffened with a grunt as something sharp slammed into the side of his neck. While numbness started to spread through his limbs, almost instantly his vision began to cloud. Phone slipping from his hand, Harlow clawed at his neck.Yanking out what felt like a dart, the thing flew from his hand as he lost the rest of the feeling in his fingers.
His vision was flicking in and out now, and at the sound of footsteps, he spun. Harlow only managed to stumble a single step back, before crying out, “FUCK,” as he dropped, losing all control of his body. He heard the thud as he hit the ground, but Harlow didn’t feel a damn thing. And when he tried to speak, his lips wouldn’t move.
Oh, I’m so fucked, Harlow thought as two hooded figures appeared. His vision was more gone than there as they dragged him away. Even drugged out he could tell they were moving faster than any human could, which really just cemented how fucking fucked he was.
When a familiar shit box silver Pontiac came into sight...he couldn’t help but think that maybe his paranoia should have paid more attention to his own safety instead of Foxx’s...
Ahh...fuck...Foxx… I’m...going to miss...our date...he thought hazily, before everything went black.
Sweet...so sweet. What...was sweet? Harlow stared blankly, but saw nothing... Saw nothing?Am...I asleep?But...he was eating something... No, not eating, drinking.
Mine!a voice in his head hissed.
No, notavoice...his own voice... Having voices inside his head that weren’t his own would be...a bad development.
Harlow frowned, his brow pinching when he realized his mouth was pressed to something.
What the fuck was he drinking? Odd...it didn’t feel like most of it was even going down his throat...yet he could taste it so clearly.
Whatever it was...was warm...coppery, sweet... So sweet...just like...taffy.
MINE,his mind roared loudly.
Wait...taffy?!
Harlow gasped as his vision slammed into place. At the same time, he reared back in panic, fangs he shouldn’t have tore from the neck of the person he’d been feeding on.
“Foxx!” he croaked, his throat sore.
Hands clenched where they were gripping the man’s upper arms, he held the vampire up while he sagged in his hold. Hauling Foxx against him, Harlow cupped his face with one hand. “Foxx...” he trailed off.
Slowly pulling his hand away, he stared at the bloody hand print he’d left behind...
Gaze flicking down, he found that wherever he was touching Foxx, he was transferring blood. As if thinking about it was enough, the feeling on his skin came then. The sticky warmness of it all, everywhere. It was everywhere. Harlow was coated...
Blood...so much blood. Biting... He’d been biting Foxx... Why...had he been…?
Harlow flinched, shouting as his head throbbed sharply.
“I should have done this a long time ago.”The words echoed in his mind, memories violently shoving their way forward.
“I should have donethis a long time ago,” Micah sneered above him.
Harlow smirked. “How’s the leg?”
