Wondrous, beautiful, life-extending, power-blending blood struck his tongue, and he swallowed. Striking a quick bleed point meant more and more of the blood gushed toward him. Rather than suckling a wound, he was drinking as quickly as he could, and it wasn’t enough. Streams of warmth were slipping past his lips, coursing down the boy’s chest to be caught on the ropes and the way his arms were bound to him. The boy moaned, and the vibration through his throat echoed through Roger.
He had held back this portion of himself. The one that truly enjoyed the feed. And God was the blooddivine.
There was a moment, just before death, when the blood of a victim was at its peak. Roger had chased too many past that threshold, and the souring of the taste ruined the rest of the feed.He pulled his mouth away from the wound and held the boy in his arms as the life fled his body.
Death didn’t necessarily bring peace and beauty with it, but the boy’s body was the sort of shell that made poets wistful. Roger picked him up in his arms. A momentary confusion flared across his thoughts. He wasn’t about to torture Dmitri by laying the boy beside him. His actions had been about mitigating pain, not bringing more of it.
A bouncer stepped forward and silently offered to take the corpse. Roger handed the boy over, taking a second to smooth his hair.
As the bouncer carried the boy’s body away, Seamus joined Roger and gently put a hand on his shoulder. “I forgot what a joy watching you feast can be.”
The words were said with such genuine compliment that Roger smiled at his sire despite himself. His defenses were down, and he could feel Seamus attempting to tug on his desires. That sharpened his mental barriers, but the rush of taking a life still infused Roger’s grin. Nothing could replicate the last few swallows of a life’s blood, and nothing tasted as precious as a human’s. When Seamus leaned in, Roger pressed his forehead against his.
After all, without Seamus, he would’ve been dead centuries ago. Some forgotten pirate beneath some crushing wave. He wouldn’t have the world to taste.
An applause was resounding, vibrating. Roger rolled his head to the side, keeping lightly in touch with Seamus’s forehead. “You’re in my mind.”
“Are you mine, Roger?” Seamus whispered. “My captain? My beloved rake?”
No honest word would pacify him. With Seamus so deeply in his mind, he’d feel the urge for dishonesty. Roger’s loyaltyhad been tested before. There was one way he could lie with his tongue.
He kissed Seamus, gentle and careful. Too much passion would infuriate Anton and cause the madman to throw a fit. Seamus sought the taste of the blood on Roger’s tongue and lips, and he let him have it.
Fuck, a monster shouldn’t be able to kiss like this.
For a moment, the briefest glimmer of an infinity, memory swept into the place of reality. The first night Roger had been a vampire, they’d shared a kiss. It’d been nothing like this, some mix of heat and greedy touch, but Seamus’s meaning had been clear. He had been claiming some piece of Roger’s soul, and his claws had scratched at him ever since, digging and scraping to claim more and more of it.
This kiss was freeing. Roger could hear the applause around them, and he could rebuff Seamus’s attempts to sink into his psyche. As Roger slowly pulled back from the kiss, Seamus had a dazzle in his mottled red and blue eyes.
Because this was how he’d survived the centuries. When he was very,verygood, he could seduce the devil himself. Roger smiled and began to retreat toward the back of the stage. “Thank you, master.”
He was determined for that to be their last kiss.
CHAPTER 30
An invisible band tightened around Zack’s chest. He couldn’t draw a deep breath. The whole thing was perverted to a level that he’d never truly contemplated as possible. Roger sank his fangs into the young hunter’s neck like he was creating some sort of art performance piece. And there was a strange sort of beauty to it.
The part of him that took on Cal’s voice berated him for the mere thought, aided by memory.I always knew you were into some vile shit.
I’m not into this, the rational part of his mind responded.This is shock. I’m in shock.
And that was solid ground he could stand on. The world continued to spin around him, but he could take in the pieces and slot them into place. Reality wasn’t beyond his grasp, merely fuzzy around the edges.
Because if he looked too closely, he’d scream.
Especially when Roger kissed Seamus like they were old lovers.
Were they? Roger had always sounded like anything that had happened with Seamus hadn’t been by choice. Was that kiss part of an act to keep Seamus happy? Or was everything he’d eversaid to Zack the lie? Was Roger a sociopathic mastermind who was stringing Zack along?
You know that isn’t true, the practical voice declared. But numbed as he was, Zack couldn’t help wondering if he had dug far enough into Roger’s past.
The horrific show didn’t end with Roger’s kill. Seamus and Anton picked one of the two remaining hunters to share. They ripped into her neck, blood spraying from their bites, and the audience fucking loved that too. When Seamus promised that the vampires who made the most noise would have the scraps, meaning the fourth hunter, the bastards started making a thunderous amount of noise. A wave of disappointment sounded when Seamus picked a close knot of vampires.
All of this happened while Roger stood onstage. He was off to the side now, but he had that sly grin on his lips that twisted Zack’s stomach into knots. Zack had liked that grin, but he wasn’t sure he could stand it anymore.Have I killed? Yes. Have I enjoyed it? Not every time, Roger had said when they met.
I know him.
Don’t I?
