Even in the following few days after Seth bonded me to him, I thought I’d remade my life for me. I thought I’d gotten what I wanted. But I didn’t yet realize what I’d done. What I’d allowed to happen.
The crushing, violent need to drink propelled me forward on reluctant feet. I knocked on the double doors to one of thepenthouse suites that was a permanent residence and by far the grandest.
With a click, the door opened itself. Seth lounged on the leather sectional, his lean frame framed by an emerald silk robe that lay open.
The blue glow from his phone cast eerie shadows across the sharp planes of his face and glinted off the tortoiseshell reader glasses perched on his aquiline nose—glasses I knew were purely for show, a calculated affectation.
Without even glancing up from whatever had captured his attention, he raised one long, pale finger in my direction, commanding my silence and patience while he continued scrolling with his other hand. The quiet tap-tap-tap of his manicured nail against the screen was the only sound in the cavernous room.
Hands shoved in my pockets, revulsion skated under my skin at what I was here to do. A few more taps, then he finally set the phone down.
“You are up to two million followers from that last video we posted.” His grin was victorious, but faced with it, something wilted inside me. The stunts were thrilling. The best hit of life reinforcing adrenaline a guy like me could ask for.
But the followers, the growing adoration and fame...I couldn’t care less. But that was what he wanted. I was his new spectacle. My job was to draw a crowd.
“Is my lucky charm thirsty?” Seth asked in a patronizing tone, before straightening and patting the spot on the couch next to him. “Can’t have that.”
In my original vision, I’d be using one those vampire ethically-sourced blood banks to drink from pouches like they were Capri Sun for the rest of my life.
Instead, there was only one source I could drink from now. Only one blood type my body would accept as sustenance. That’s what it meant to be in a blood-bond.
I slunk across the room, feeling like a dog, settling next to him. Seth’s arm opened to rest around my shoulders and draw me in. “There’s a good boy.”
My nose wrinkled before I bit into him. Despite myself, I let out a shaky sigh as Seth’s blood welled from the bites, and I sucked his essence down. My cold, frozen body warmed, thawing with the blood I took in.
I drank his raw, electrified power with a stringent aftertaste, but my body responded enthusiastically, my hands clawing at his shoulders and chest as I took more and more.
“There’s my golden boy,’ Seth patted the back of my head. “What would you do without daddy?”
6
TIMOTHY
Aroar greeted me the moment Miranda and I stepped out onto the Menaggio’s rooftop. Wind whipped around us from this high up.
The packed crowds lining every railing gave it the same charged atmosphere as a stadium right before the main event. Spotlights swept across the sky in sharp, feverish strokes.
A thousand humans pressed against the barriers, phones held high, every voice tumbling over the next in a feverish chant of Aaron’s name.
My gaze slid to Seth, who had positioned himself on his own elevated viewing platform on the far side of the terrace. A velvet-roped lounge built into the roof’s highest corner, perched above the others. Gold-trimmed railings. Plush seating. Personal bartenders. And a faint shimmer of wards woven into the canopy overhead. Yet again, he’d built a throne disguised as VIP comfort, but the intent was obvious.
He was recreating a memory where he was an ancient Greek ruler who would oversee the gladiators slaughtered for his amusement. Anger and fear zipped up my spine, striking mybrain with pulses that made it difficult to maintain logic and calm.
As if sensing me, his eyes connected with mine, and that insufferably smug grin widened as he toasted me with his martini glass.
As Miranda said, pure dick pickle move.
“Is that thing permanently attached to this hand?” Miranda asked in disgust.
“I don’t like the looks of this,” I said as I forced myself to focus on the setup.
Two massive rig towers rose from the roof, each bolted into reinforced steel plates that extended right to the building’s edge.
“Neither do I,” she said through gritted teeth. “But we need to be here, and you know it.”
“Do I?” I countered dryly despite the somersaults my stomach made. I wasn’t sure if the internal acrobatics were because of anticipation or anxiety about colliding with Aaron.
With a glance, I caught sight of a gaggle of girls holding signs that said different variations of, “Suck Me Dry.” They were already teary-eyed and vibrating with tension at the prospect of seeing the vampire in action.
