But sex with a stranger has never, ever made me feel like this.
I can’t look away. I’m disgusted, horrified, but that doesn’t seem to make any difference to my fucking body.
She’s in ecstasy. How is that possible?
I’ve seen vampires feed more times than I can count. It’s always brutal. Their victims beg if they can, cry out in agony if they can’t, and are always left dead or traumatized. This girl doesn’t look traumatized at all. She looks blissful, like there’s nowhere else on earth she’d rather be.
I must stare for too long, or maybe I make a noise without realizing it. As if he’s sensed my attention, the dark haired vampire opens his eyes. His gaze snaps to mine, pinning me in place with irises that are the exact shade of dark gray as storm clouds.
Chapter Six
Fight.
Run.
Freeze.
The conflicting impulses to do all three of those things ricochet through me as my eyes lock with his.
God, I wish I had my weapons on me.
I’d be an idiot to use them in here, but just having the cold steel pressed against my thighs would make me feel better.
My heart’s racing. Dammit. I need to breathe, need to slow it down, but the darkly handsome vampire at the head table is still watching me. He slides his fangs out of the woman’s throat, and she squeaks a little moan, like he’d just pulled his dick out. He licks the blood off her neck and his tongue closes her wounds.
They can do that? Motherfucker. Those bastard street vamps never do that.
He gives her a sultry look and gently pushes her off his lap. She gazes back at him like she’s in love, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths as she turns and wobbles happily away. But he’s not watching her go. No, his gaze has settled on me again, and it feels like he’s looking right through me.
A shiver trickles through me as he licks the last few drops of blood from his lips. He looks predatory. Possessive. Terrifying.
So why does he also look sexy?
“Oh god. Do you think she’s his bonded?” The full-figured blonde girl beside me poses the question to no one in particular.
A sparkly-eyed redhead with a perfect build, perfect skin, and perfectly symmetrical face picks up a fork and toys with it, laughing softly as she eyes the blonde girl. “Fuck, no. Don’t you keep your ears open at all? Prince Bastian doesn’t keep bonded humans. He prefers to… sample the whole buffet, so to speak.”
I frown. “That doesn’t make sense. He’s the prince, isn’t he? He could have anyone he wanted, and as many of them as he wants.”
The redhead purses her lips at me and flicks a handful of perfectly manicured fingernails dismissively. “You know how men are, don’t you? He’s a wild one, from what I hear. Doesn’t want to get tied down, doesn’t want to be stuck with any one tribute for too long.” She smiles sweetly at me, but I can see behind the mask well enough to know she might as well be baring her teeth. “I don’t think I got your name, sweetheart. Who are you?”
“Darcy,” I say flatly.
“Winona,” she drawls, extending a hand.
I shake it briefly. I’ve got callouses on my callouses and enough strength built up to crush her dainty little bones. A flash of disgust crosses her face, but she tucks it quickly behind her perfectly friendly mask.
“And you?” she asks the blonde beside me.
“Chelsea,” the blonde drawls, as if it doesn’t matter anyway.
“My name’s Jessica.” The girl I spoke to in the hall pipes up. She sounds a little desperate for a friend.
Winona dismisses her with a cutting glance. “Nobody cares, sweets. You obviously don’t want to be here. The vampires will sense that about you, and you’ll get stuck in general tribute limbo forever. Just accept it.”
Jessica’s face twists like she’s about to cry again. I clear my throat and lean forward, then remember I’m conversing with women and sit up straight instead. I’m used to dealing with monsters and men—there’s a whole different set of body language rules for that.
“General tribute seems like a better role in the long run,” I say. “Being bonded to a vampire sounds kind of crappy.”
Winona’s eyes widen in shock. “What? Come on, be realistic. Would you really rather be common fodder for all the vampires, for any nobody to stick his fangs in whenever he wants to, to be passed around like some prostitute?”
I shrug. “Rather be a prostitute than a puppy.”
Jessica looks at me curiously and Chelsea shifts uncomfortably in her chair. Winona’s smile has turned to ice.
“A puppy,” she repeats with a breathy, unconvincing laugh. “Is that what you call it? To be permanently bonded to a powerful vampire—someone like the prince, or even one of the lesser members of the court, would give you the power. Haven’t you heard the saying, sweetheart? Behind every powerful man is a woman pulling his strings? You would be the string puller. As a general tribute, you’re just meat.”
I can’t help but laugh at her. “You think you’d be the one pulling the strings? Jesus. Tell the truth, Winona. You’ve obviously done enough research to know the answer. What happens to a tribute once they’re bonded to a vampire?”
She flushes a pretty pink, and her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “I think everybody at this table knows just as much about it as I do.”
Several girls shake their heads. A couple just look away.
“Please tell me.” A slight girl with wide green eyes glances back and forth between me and Winona. “One of you. Either of you. Tell me. I… I thought bonding was
