“Hestarted it, not me!”
“Andyou’vegot to be the bigger one and not let him get to you like this,” she says firmly. She squeezes my shoulder tightly before letting them go.
As much as I resent her right now, I’m lucky to have my sister. Nobody else knows me like this.
Well, nobody other than…
“Can’t I just stake him alittlebit?” I ask her cheekily.
“No, Celine, stay out of it!” she says, tossing her hair back haughtily and checking her smartwatch. “The longer you bait him, the more he’s going to do things like this. Just leave it alone.”
“Fine,” I groan. “Just for you.”
“Good! Now, I’ve got real work to attend to.”
She spins on her heel and clicks back over to the elevators. Probably going to yell at some poor night manager about bleaching bedsheets or something.
I do appreciate her concern. But that doesn’t mean I haveanyintention of letting things go with Cedric. If she thinks I’m not going to strike back at him, she clearly doesn’t know me at all.
And now Tudor is going to be away…it’s perfect timing.
But that restless feeling is coming back.
I need a drink first.
The bar is full of dancing, partying breathers. But I can smell her immediately.
It’s strange, since I haven’t drank from her. There’s something about her blood that’s unique. Like an elegant signature, punctuating the thick club air.
I find the bar quickly. The crowd parts for me as they always do.
She shines, a glittering jewel in a chest of gold. She stopped wearing her uniform shirt several weeks ago. Tonight, it’s been replaced by a tank top that shows off her arms and chest. She wears a gold bracelet around her bicep, its curved edges tight against her skin. Her box braids are piled high up on her head, wrapped in a yellow silk scarf.
In the sacred moment before she spots me, I watch her unselfconscious, graceful movements. She takes a glass from a low shelf and polishes it, the hint of a satisfied smile on her lips. Her eyelids flutter in the dark as she inspects the glass for spots. She has lovely, curled eyelashes. With my night vision, I could easily count them.
“Oh!” she says. Her eyes widen when she sees me, her heartbeat picking up noticeably. I can almost hear the whoosh of blood pumping through her veins. But she doesn’t seem put off. She puts down the glass and rag and comes a little closer to the edge of the bar, as though approaching a lion’s cage at a zoo. Fascinated, but fully aware of the danger and power of the creature before her.
“Bonsoir.”
“Hello,” she replies. “Can I get you a bloodwine?”
I smirk. “I have other ways of sustaining myself.”
She swallows. There’s a subtle twitch of her lip. “I’m sure you do.”
I wonder what she’s thinking. There’s something unusual about her. I’m used to breathers being wary but intrigued by me. But there’s something else. She looks at me as though she knows everything about me. She’s careful around me, but she looks at me as though we’re equals in power and strength.
Which is obviously impossible.
“Rum and coke, please!” shrieks a voice from the other end of the bar. I turn and glare at the customer who dared to interrupt our exchange. He jumps at my icy stare and quickly scrambles away from the bar. “Um, never mind! Sorry!”
The bartender looks at me with a raised eyebrow and a grin. “Not very good for business to scare all your customers away.”
“We’ve got plenty,” I wave my hand. “I’d rather speak with you uninterrupted.”
She bites her lip, but the expression of pleasure on her face gives her away.
I lean forward slightly over the bar. “Will you join me for the night?”
