“Try thirty-two.”
I cross my arms over my chest and enjoy the way Vyce’s eyes trace the ink on my right arm. I’ve got quite a bit of it—almost a full sleeve from shoulder to wrist, plus a blue swallow above my right breast. Vyce’s gaze catches there...before dropping a bit lower.
“Thirty-two? Puh-lease. Sorry, but I don’t buy it for a second.” Vyce just shrugs and slides off the stool, just before another wave of wild energy sweeps into the bar. Two gazes latch onto my back. I know; I can fucking feel them.
Two more vampires, just as powerful as the one in front of me.
“You might not believe it, but it’s true.” He tosses me one last smile and gestures at the business card with his chin. “Give me a call sometime...” Vyce trails off, and I can tell he’s fishing for my name. I don’t give a shit if he knows it; Mom changed our names about two dozen times over my life. But this name—Cameron Darke—is the one I picked for myself as an adult, after she died.
“Cam,” I tell him with a sharp nod, twirling a pale finger in a small circle. “And I’m a morning regular here. Stop by if you’re interested in a little fun.” I wink at him and slap the bandage back on my neck before turning to glance at his two companions...
What. The. Fuck?!
The first man I’d laid eyes on was godlike...and there are two more on his level?!
Not possible.
I blink a few times as Harry mutters something under his breath like, “You’ll never learn, will ya?” He thinks I’m going to hit on the two newcomers, too. Shit, I just might. One of them has light blond hair, almost white, with a red streak in the front, his eyes the same ice-blue color as my left one. The other guy has gray eyes—like my right one because yes, my eyes are mismatched just like my blood—and short, black hair that’s longer on top and super short on the sides.
Just like the first guy, they move with fluid, liquid grace, drifting across the floor in near silence. When they reach Vyce, they all pause for a moment to talk before three sets of eyes find mine. I wave and the guy with the dark hair scowls. The white-blond dude with the red streak eyes me up and down in a way that says he’s clearly interested.
But he doesn’t walk over to me, turning and heading for the table in the back corner instead. All three of them sit down around it and order...three more pints of my blood from Miri.
“Tell ‘em we’re out,” Harry grumbles at the waitress as I snap my gaze over to him.
“Are you serious or are you dicking around because you don’t want me to sleep with one or all of them?”
Harry crosses his massive, muscular arms. His skin is tinted gray-green from his ogre heritage, but with his very human button nose and big blue eyes, the monstrous effect is limited.
“We’re out of blood because our supplier keeps getting bit by goddamn vamps and ruining all that pretty ruby red with fang pheromones.” I sigh and tap two fingers against my neck absently, moaning and feeling my pussy clench tight in response.
“I have an idea,” I say, hopping down from the stool as Harry curses and mumbles behind me. Pretty sure he calls me a fang fucker, but whatever. He’s right. I totally am. Sleeping with pureblooded vampires is...fucking intense. I can’t get enough of the high. Besides, combine their blood with some hot, sweaty sex? And my wounds’ll be healed before you can say climax.
I turn and saunter over to the table. Clearly the guys know I’m coming long before I ever get there, pausing in their conversation to look over at me.
“Cam,” Vyce says, testing the single syllable of my nickname out on his tongue before leaning back and folding his arms casually behind his head. I get the idea that he’s barely leashed, a violent storm raging inside of him that could break through at any moment...if only he’d just let it. “Allow me to introduce you to Wolfe and Sorrow.” He gestures first at the dark-haired man and then over at the blond one with the red streak.
Wolfe glares at me, his mouth in a tight, narrow frown while Sorrow—what a totally weird and seriously fucking awesome name—lifts a hand and gives me a friendly wave. When he grins, shadows darken up some of that sunny exterior, and I shiver. But in a good way. I like a little darkness in my casual partners.
“I was hoping you’d come over,” Sorrow says, his voice dangerously playful, lending a false sense of security that should never be there in the first place. He’s a fucking vamp, a seriously goddamn powerful vamp. And vampires just can’t be trusted in general; they’re worse than humans, and humans, admittedly, are some of the worst. “It’s not fair that the prettiest dhampir I ever did see should make Vyce’s acquaintance and not mine.” He stands and offers his hand.
After a brief pause, I reach out and take it, electrical impulses shooting up my fingers and into my chest, sending my heart racing frantically. God. The amount of magic in this guy is crushing, so intense that it steals my breath away. I yank my hand back and stare into the frigid depths of his eyes. His power chases across my skin, and I feel my body’s natural resistances kick into high gear. Vampires can roll people with a direct gaze if they’re powerful enough.
But they can’t roll a dhampir. Hah. Joke’s on them: their greatest disappointment and shame—their half-breeds—have resistances that few other species share.
“Lovely to meet you,” I say, turning to the last guy, Wolfe, and watching as he curls the corner of his lip in disgust. Standing this close to him, my senses can finally see through the veil of magic surrounding the guy, down to the core of his true being underneath.
Turned vampire, not born.
Meaning this guy, Wolfe, was once human. No wonder he’s such a prick.
“Not so lovely to meet you?” I say, almost like it’s a question. What is this guy’s problem with me? Usually, I get along better with turned vamps. They know what it’s like to get shit on by royals; we have too much in common to fight, the pariahs of our race.
“We’re working right now; we don’t have time for some horny dhampir that wants to use us to heal whatever ridiculous wounds she’s nursing. Fuck off.”
“Wolfe,” Vyce chastises as Sorrow raises a brow and glances over at his companion. “Is that any way to talk to a lady?”
“Lady, gentleman, fucking pixie, I don’t care. Why don’t you go down the street to Velvet Tempers and find yourself a fuck-buddy there? Plenty of vamps who are addicted to dhampir blood. Make a whore’s bargain with one of them.”
“Screw you!” I snap, baring my teeth on instinct. “You don’t know shit about me or why I came over here.” I lift my wrist to my face and tear into it, making myself bleed. All three vampires go completely stiff and horrifically still. They’re all still living vamps, so they can’t control the frantic flickers of their pulses, but they all stop moving, stop talking, stop breathing. “I was going to offer up some of that blood on tap you were so curious about.”
Holding my wrist over the table, I let it drip onto the surface in fat, red drops.
“True, I have ulterior motives for coming over, but who doesn’t? Every interaction is a transaction in some form or another. Instead of love and attention in exchange for sex like most relationships, I’m asking for blood and a good time. But if you’re not interested, you’re not interested.”
I spin on my heel and head for the door, tossing Harry a wave as I go. He looks ridiculously relieved to see me abandoning my quest for a tumble with one—or more—hot vampire assholes.
Whatever.