Page 44 of Her Vampire, His Ruin

Before I can even consider the consequences of my actions, I’ve grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and slammed him into the oak tree. His dog barks, and I bare my teeth at it. “Quiet!”

It whimpers, but doesn’t make another sound.

The man however, he does.

“Get your hands off me,” he shouts, and I press my chest against his back, coasting my lips over his ears.

“Do not speak another word. Do not move. Do as I say, and you’ll survive.”

He instantly quietens, his body relaxing in my hold as I drag the collar of his jacket to one side, then bury my fangs into his neck. His blood hits my tongue, thick and warm, and I drink from him without remorse.

I’m fully aware I’ve just broken one of my own rules. Feeding is not allowed outside the protection of Avant Garde, but it was either feeding from this man or Edie. I chose the less complicated option.

Moaning, his hips undulate against the tree, my saliva coiling in his blood and heightening this moment with sexual pleasure. I’ve drank from both sexes, and their reaction is always the same, the loss of blood paling in comparison to the feeling of exquisite rapture.

I take just enough blood from him to dampen my hunger, then I withdraw my fangs, piercing the pad of my finger. A droplet of blood seeps from my skin, and I swipe it over the puncture wounds, watching them seal up. Releasing him, I step back, and he turns to face me.

“W-what just happened?” he asks, eyes wide with confusion, his skin pale.

“You will forget everything. You will forget this interaction, but you will go home and drink something sweet.” With that, I pet his dog, then stride towards my car parked at the end of the street.

By the time I get back to the club, I’m calm.

That calmness lasts all of ten minutes before Logan enters my office.

“We have a problem,” Logan says, the sound of Sybil’s sensual voice as she sings filtering through the open door.

Stubbing out my cigarette into the crystal ashtray on my desk, I lift my gaze to meet his through the haze of smoke. “And that problem is?”

“Two men are causing a scene trying to get into the club,” he replies, his voice cold, dangerous.

“So? Let the doormen deal with them. It’s their job.”

He flexes his fingers, a tremor running through his body. “I think you and I should manage this one.”

I snap my gaze to his. “Why?”

“It’s those predators,” he responds, a sneer darkening his features.

Whilst there are many men who could be described in such a manner, I know exactly who he’s talking about. With a sharp nod of my head, I flick my gaze to the wall of monitors.

“Suite ten is empty. Escort them there. Ask Phernella to keep them occupied whilst you stand guard,” I command, barely contained violence thrumming in my veins. “I will join you shortly.”

“Of course,” Logan hesitates, his piercing gaze meeting mine. I know what he wants without him needing to ask. “Yes, he’s yours. But that cunt who laid his hand on Edie, he’s mine.”

By the time I make my way to suite ten, the violence that’s been simmering inside of me ever since that pathetic sack of flesh hurt Edie is thrashing with need. I had every intention of dealing with these bastards eventually, especially after what Logan dug up about them both, but as they’ve graced us with their presence tonight, now is the perfect opportunity to unleash my wrath.

Standing sentry outside the suite is Logan, a cruel smile spreading across his face as I approach.

“Are they suitably entertained?” I ask, handing him the machete I brought from my office.

He nods, taking it from me. “Phernella has done an excellent job at distracting them.”

“Good.”

“Shall we?” Logan asks, pushing open the door.

I step into the suite, Logan following me.