Ben had spent the previous year learning how to feed with the least emotional transfer possible. He didn’t want his reactions leaking into random humans who fed him; it wouldn’t be fair to subject unsuspecting humans to his roller coaster of feelings. He might have gained control over his bloodlust, but his emotional highs and lows were enough to give even the steadiest human whiplash.
Most nights Ben felt like he existed in the world akin to an exposed nerve. He careened from ecstatic to angry to sullen in the space of an hour. Flying made him happy. Missing the sun made him angry. Silence gave him peace.
His stomach twisted, the server waited, and the mysterious vampire was still staring.
Saffron tea wasn’t going to sate him.
Ben pointed his chin in the direction of a woman on the far side of the courtyard. “Her.”
“Very well. I’ll send Mer—”
“Don’t need to know her name.” He glanced at the server. “Just send her over.”
“Yes, sir.”
Yes, sir.
No, sir.
It will only be a moment, sir.
Right away, sir.
My greatest apologies, sir.
Ben supposed there were immortals who reveled in the deference, but it made his skin crawl.
I was just like you. He felt like shouting it. I’m a nobody. A poor bastard who fell into the immortal world, constantly in debt to beings greater than myself.
In debt to his adoptive uncle, Giovanni Vecchio, an immortal who plucked him off the street when Ben was twelve and gave him an education and a future. In debt to his Aunt Beatrice, a vampire who made sure he felt as loved as any natural child.
In debt to an immortal family who taught him how to protect himself and an ancient vampire who gave him vision.
Ben was in debt to vampire clients who had put their faith in him despite his mortal status.
And now he was in debt to others: a friend who betrayed him to save his life and a sire who gave him status he never wanted.
The mortal woman walked silently through the courtyard, her feet making no noise as they crossed the cobblestones. Her skin was a smooth light brown and her black hair was twisted up in a neat chignon that showed off a delicate neck marked with numerous healed bites. Her expression was carefully blank, but her hands didn’t tremble.
She knelt on the plush carpet before him and looked up with hooded eyes. “Sir, do I meet your approval?”
Her lips were already flushed and her eyes were dilated. What had led her to this life? Why did she enjoy the feel of fangs in her neck and lifeblood being sucked from her vein? Her face told him nothing, but her lips told the story.
“Yes.”
She rose and moved toward him, this time kneeling on the low cushion. “Would you like to feed from the neck or the wrist, sir?”
“Wrist.” He kept his voice even, but he could feel her disappointment.
“Your wish, sir.” She raised her wrist politely.
Ben turned to her and met her gaze. “Be comfortable.”
Excitement flared in her eyes. “Of course, sir.” She folded her legs to the side and leaned against the large back cushion before she held out her right wrist.
Through the entire exchange, the woman across the courtyard never took her eyes off him, and her bodyguard never looked at Ben directly.
Was she following him? Spying on him? Was she reporting to his sire?
To someone else?
Ben took the woman’s wrist in his hand and warmed his skin to a nearly feverish degree. He saw goose bumps rise on the woman’s arm, and a slight shiver ran through her when he put his lips to her wrist.
Since his hurried and violent congress with Tenzin immediately after his turning, he hadn’t indulged his roaring sexual desires. Like his hunger, sex felt like a weakness. He’d never been a man led around by his dick, and immortality wasn’t the time to start.
He didn’t close his eyes when he bit into her wrist, but he sent a wave of amnis over her skin to give her the pleasure she wanted. The electrical current that controlled his amnis was powerful, far more so than what would be normal for a vampire his age.
Ben Vecchio was the son of an ancient king, the only son of Zhang Guo, the first child he had sired in over four thousand years.
Raw power flooded out of him and onto the woman, making her gasp and arch her back in pleasure. An involuntary cry left her lips.
Ben took his mouth away. “Be quiet.”
She didn’t say a word, but she nodded. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen. Her chest above the modestly cut dress she wore was red.
He put his mouth back to her wrist and licked up the drips of blood that had run down her arm, careful not to make a mess. Then he latched onto her vein and drank in leisurely sips, his eyes still locked on the woman across the courtyard.
I see you. You see me. What do you want?
The only response the vampire had was to raise a carefully groomed eyebrow in his direction. She watched Ben feeding from the human with clear interest, a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth.
The woman he fed from was silent next to him, but she twisted in pleasure, her body heavy against his. She was panting and tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Her body shook with silent tremors of climax as Ben slowly fed.
Carefully. Deliberately. He felt the living blood splash against his throat like water tossed on a fire. Her taste reminded him of port wine. Rich. Sweet. He focused on the physical act of drinking. He focused on the sensation of his throat relaxing as the blood quenched his burning hunger. He fought the rising sexual desire that was inevitable.
He
