Ravenous

thought had gone down under a tidal wave of lust. All that had been left was need and appetite. The need to protect Holly had won.

Just.

Now she lay beside him, her breath rushing softly across the landscape of rumpled and torn bedclothes. He was going to have to buy her some new sheets.

Holly was on her back, fast asleep, her face turned toward him. The tangle of her straight dark hair webbed her features from view, spilling like the hatch marks of an illustrator's pen over the white contour of her shoulders. One hand reached up, fingers loosely curled around Alessandro's. She had fallen asleep holding his hand.

His scent was on her, and hers on him. I am hers. She is mine. Shifting slightly, he raised himself on one elbow, letting his lips linger against the warmth of her flesh. Like the spun- sugar sweetness of pears. Or what he thought pears were like. Memories of that kind had faded.

Hunger filled his mouth like acid, throbbing in the bones of his jaw. He parted his teeth slightly, relieving the pressure on fangs aching for the hunt. He needed to hunt.

She is mine to take.

Alessandro was on his feet beside the bed before he could even reject the thought. He had moved so fast, Holly hadn't even stirred. Naked, he watched her breath, hearing her heart beat in the quiet room. Appetite slunk through his body, hardening his flesh, reviving fires he had conscientiously banked. He was full and ready to take her, desperate to take her blood.

No.

And yet he did not move. He did not dare. She was everything—had given him, against all odds, everything—and yet his instinct was to destroy her. One lapse of concentration and he would be back on the bed, plundering life from the heart that had surrendered to him not even an hour ago.

I am worse than I even imagined. Did I really think some better angel would rise from these slavering, venomous hungers? That because I loved I would be anything other than myself?

Disgust gave him the strength to step back, and step back again. He bent and picked up his clothes from the floor, his limbs heavy with grief. He had to get the hell out of there before he made another near-fatal mistake.

The only thing he could give her was his absence.

He went home, cleaned up, and went to Sinsation. His arrival caused a stir, as it always did, among the venom seekers. When it was whispered that Caravelli wanted a companion, the humans flocked to him like plump and foolish birds. Alessandro was beautiful and his venom was strong. The pleasure he gave was legendary.

He switched off what he could of his conscious mind, letting names and images slide by without sticking, slick as rainwater over glass. He didn't want to be aware of what he did. Not so soon after brushing so close to bliss.

The honeycomb of small rooms at the back of Sinsation was neat and utilitarian. Alessandro was shown to a room with a couch and a lamp of cheap stained glass. His meal of the night reclined on the couch, her face slack with the anticipation of ecstasy.

I am a monster.

But even with hunger raging in every cell, with his meal spread languorously before him, he balked. It was too soon. Too intimate. The image of Holly lying beside him was sacred. He would not sully that image with the shadow of another.

I would sooner lie down like a dog on his master's grave and die.

He'd never felt like this before. Never refused to feed. Still, the decision was abrupt and final. He got up and left the room, ignoring his meal's cry of confusion. Sooner or later he would have to give in, but not yet.

Standing at the back of the lounge, he surveyed the tables occupying the space before the door. The patrons were an irrelevant blur, but their energy sharpened his focus. It was a place filled with predators and prey. Even if he was not willing to look for food tonight, he was still on the hunt.

Action was good. His spirit was too sore to dwell on Holly. So don't think about her. Think about what needs to be done. Macmillan. The book. Anything but Holly.

Alessandro eased from the back into the main room, skirting along the shadowy periphery of the tables en route to the door.

'Hey.'

He felt a hand on his cuff and looked down, tensing, but it was only Perry Baker, drinking a beer alone in the corner with his laptop for company. Reluctantly he sat down across from the young werewolf. He didn't want to take the time, but the look on Perry's face made him stop.

'What's up?' asked Alessandro. 'You look ragged.'

'Everything.' It came out almost like a grunt. 'I hate my life.'

The complaint was oddly comforting, as if Perry's misery put his own in perspective. 'At least you have life,' Alessandro countered. 'Try being Undead for six centuries.'

'You don't get fleas and you don't teach three sections of first-year Comp Sci geeks who can't wait for you to turn into Fido and pee on the mainframe.' Perry gave the hem of his oversized T-shirt an irritated tug.

Alessandro sat back in his chair. 'No, I managed to dodge those particular bullets.'

One of the waiters dropped off another beer and a glass of Alessandro's usual red wine. There were things to be said for being a regular, even if he didn't really feel like drinking.

The waiter paused. 'Was there something amiss with your meal, sir?' He was addressing Alessandro. Perry's eyebrows rose with interest.

'The meal was fine. I simply found I didn't have an appetite after all.'

'Very good, sir. Let us know if there is anything else we can provide.' The waiter left.

Perry's face was full of questions, but Alessandro quashed them with a look.

'So.' The werewolf snapped the lid of the laptop shut. 'Um, Dad said the queen called him. Something about portals to the hell dimensions?'

'You think I know something.'

'You have on an apocalypse kind of face. Plus, we found that changeling in the Laundromat. There's something up.'

Alessandro drained half his glass in one slug. Maybe he did want the wine after all. 'There's no point in spreading panic quite yet. The queen is calling the leaders of the supernatural community, giving them time to talk to their councils. They need to be on the lookout for trouble, because it could come anytime.'

'What kind of trouble?'

'Demon.'

'No wonder you look tense.'

'It's been a bad week.'

'More than just a demon? My wolfy senses are tingling.'

Oddly, Alessandro didn't mind Perry's prying all that much. Perhaps it was because his interest was genuine. Wolves were your friends or they weren't. For some reason Perry had taken to Alessandro.

'I had one of those nights when I understand what I am. We look human. We do many of the things humans do. Sometimes I forget that I am a monster.'

Perry signaled for more alcohol. 'Yeah, I know what you mean.'

'You? You're the poster child for integration. Young, good-looking, brilliant. If you can't fit in, none of us has a prayer.'

Perry looked into his beer. 'Ah. Well, for what it's worth, I went on a date after class. Nothing much, just a movie.'

'And?'

'The girl turned out to be more than just a drop-dead gorgeous roller-derby babe. I hate those vigilante freaks.'

'Roller girls?'

'No, effing self-proclaimed hunters. She tried to behead me. Had this bloody great katana in the car. Now, that's a buzz kill. Like, I mean, what did she think I was going to do? Shed on her upholstery? The chick was way over the top.'