Page 42 of Bitten Vampire (The Bitten Chronicles #2)

Chapter Forty-One

The worst thing happens. Bloody sod’s law. I don’t know whether it’s performance anxiety or fate refusing to cooperate, but the next evening, as soon as the sun sets and I try to have a vision, nothing happens. I worry this power is going to drive me insane.

Why isn’t it working?

“I should find more self-help podcasts,” I grumble to James as he walks past.

If we survive, I might even try meditation. I’ve never been more terrified, and every time I say that, something else goes horribly wrong.

I really must learn not to tempt fate.

Baylor, curled at my feet, sneaks out his tongue and licks my ankle. He ate something that smelled suspiciously like fox poo on our walk, and his breath is minging. I wrinkle my nose at the rapidly drying spit.

James hands me his bottle of hand sanitiser. “Thank you,” I say as I douse my leg and give it back.

“Did you know there are vampire podcasts? Actual podcasts made for vampires. Of course, they’re not on human channels, and it takes a vampire with far too much time on his hands to know where to find them.”

I stare at James, utterly flabbergasted. “This is… this is amazing.”

“I know,” he whispers back.

I grab my phone, and with his help, I find and start downloading the app as though my life depends on it.

He clears his throat. “So… any updates on your oracle thing? Do we know what’s happening tonight?”

“No. My power is on the fritz.”

He plonks himself beside me and whips out his tablet. “It says here that oracles can burn out if they overdo it. You’ve probably drained your magical reserves. Maybe we could try a circle, like you are doing with the stake?”

I lift my eyes from my phone and fix him with a look. “The stake.”

“Yeah, it’s sentient, right? Just like your talking house. You’re not telling me it was you who went all vampire hunter on those human assassins. Simone said you couldn’t fight for shit. I watched the footage back, and when it was over, you sat on the steps and cried.”

“Bloody Sherlock Holmes,” I mumble. “The stake is going to be furious when she finds out everyone knows about her. She’s very… st abby-stabby.”

He shrugs. “She must like us. That’s why she protected us from the assassins. We’re clearly the good guys.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Ah, because I’m right.” He gives me that infuriatingly smug look.

I give him my best unimpressed stare.

“My life’s not ending because a sentient stake decides I’m a bad guy.”

“Well, you were a bad guy when we first met. She was dying to stab you.”

“Yeah, but I’m not now, am I? I’m a great guy once you get to know me.”

I roll my eyes. “Sure, James.”

“So, what are you planning to do?”

“With what?”

“The visions, obviously.”

“Well, I’m completely tapped out. I managed to see Valdarr, but that was it. Now I’m wondering if I wasted the chance.”

“No, you didn’t. You did the right thing. We’ve had so many changes; with our liege missing it was impossible not to panic. Clans need a powerful leader to keep everyone safe. The average lifespan of a newly turned vampire is three years, because our world is so dangerous.”

I shake my head; I knew things were bad, but not that bad.

“Vampires are volatile. Something in the genetics means many of us lose our humanity; we become psychopaths. You might think I’m a fuddy-duddy, obsessed with rules and procedure, but I’ve watched friends change.

Even when that doesn’t happen, living so long wrecks a brain that was never built for it.

It’s like vampire Alzheimer’s—eventually they go blood-crazy. ”

Like the Grand Master.

“Look, about the visions… I don’t know how your power works, but if anything had happened to My liege last night, you’d never have forgiven yourself. At least you went all in.”

I blow out a breath, my hair fluttering around my face. “It’s just… if it were only me, I’d be fine. I wouldn’t feel so?—”

“—neurotic?” he offers.

“Anxious,” I snap, though I can’t help smiling. “But because it’s Val?—”

“You’re terrified,” he says gently. “You really do love him, don’t you?”

“Yes. I do.” I fold my arms across my chest, hugging myself. “Yes, even though his father is evil, Valdarr is still… a good man.”

“He’s good, but he’s ruthless. You don’t want to see him angry.”

“Yeah, well, I guess you don’t survive a thousand years by being soft.”

“Or by being stupid,” James mutters. “You’ve got to trust him to handle this now.”

“But the difference is, the last time we went to The Hall of Silence, I saw us die—over and over—and nothing he did could protect us.”

“Yet you protected him. You took over, dealt with the situation. That’s what a good partnership does, each taking turns.

Be that way again—calm, focused. And you are going to tell them, right?

When you register as a day-walker, also register as an oracle.

Do that proud know-it-all thing you do, and make them think you’ve already seen what’s coming.

If you stay calm and confident, they’ll never risk killing us, because they’ll assume you’ve foreseen it and changed the outcome.

Reverse psychology.” He taps his temple.

“Make them think you’ve seen it all, even though you haven’t.

They’ll be too busy panicking about what you might know. ”

“You know what? That’s… actually genius.”

“Of course it is. I’m basically a tactical mastermind.”

I grin, and before I can stop myself, kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks, James. You are a superstar.”

He splutters. “Don’t be leaving your spit on me—my liege will know!”

“Your liege will know what?”

We both jump as my vampire strolls into the room, wearing an infuriatingly knowing grin.

“Have you been kissing my mate, James?”

“No! No, no, no!” James throws up a hand, tablet clutched to his chest. “I’ve been helping her with podcasts and giving her life tips.

No kissing from me. None at all. Oh, look at the time.

I need to finish the paperwork: Accord Codes 201.

2, 206.1, and 208.4, mate-bond registration, day-walker certification, and oracular-precognition forms. MB-1, DW-3, OM-9.

We’ll need seals and signatures before we leave. ”

He bolts, practically tripping over himself as he leaves the room .

I watch him go and giggle. “That was hilarious.”

Valdarr smiles faintly. “I’m glad you’re getting along.”

“Yeah, he’s all right.”

“Yeah. He is.” He sits beside me and pulls me against his side.

“So,” he murmurs, glancing at my phone, “what are you doing?”

“Have you seen this app? Podcasts! Motivational, helpful. Look at this one—” I scroll to something utterly ridiculous:

Bite Club Confidential, episode 8, “Confessions of a Vegan Vampire”—a candid interview with a vampire who claims to survive on beetroot juice and dark chocolate alone.

“That’s a… very unusual topic,” Valdarr says, deadpan.

“Yeah, but it’s interesting.”

I think back on what James said. It’s so simple, yet so clever. “About the court, James thinks we should register me as an oracle.”

“Yes, I noticed he’s already filling out the forms.” We share a grin. “I think it’s a sound idea.”

“Me too. Not that I’m much of an oracle; I still can’t see what’s going to happen tonight. James says I should act as though I know. I’m inclined to agree.”

“We could try something else. A little power boost,” he says, tilting his head and studying me.

“What sort of power boost?” I narrow my eyes.

“Well… vampires can drink from each other.”

“Oh,” I squeak. I have no idea what to say.

Valdarr simply waits—calm, unbothered—giving me space to work it out .

I have read enough about vampire culture to know that drinking from one another is… normal. It’s part of their nature and their society. It isn’t taboo or monstrous—at least, not to them.

Yet my human brain recoils. It whispers disgusting, inhuman, wrong .

Except, I don’t see Valdarr as a monster, and I don’t see myself as one either.

So, if we are not monstrous, why should this be?

“I know it’s natural,” I murmur, taking a deep breath. “It’s normal.”

“It is.”

“Will it weaken you?”

“No. It will strengthen us both,” he says softly, “and deepen our bond.”

I nod. “Then… yes. I’ve never bitten anyone before. I mean, I tried a peach once.”

Valdarr pulls a face. “Bet that wasn’t very good.”

“Disgusting,” I agree. “So… do I just bite? Is there a preferred spot?”

“The wrist isn’t ideal.” He gestures to the side of his neck. “Here is better. Or the femoral artery in the upper thigh, but that might feel a little… personal.”

My mind goes straight there. I wonder who he’s bitten or who has bitten him. I growl before I can stop myself.

He chuckles, eyes sparkling.

“Sorry. So… do you want to bite me as well?”

“It would be good to exchange,” he says.

“Right.” I nibble my lip.

“You can go first,” he adds gently. “Maybe the power boost will help your visions.”

“Okay then.” I shift closer on the sofa.

He unbuttons his shirt and slides it off one shoulder, revealing golden skin, muscles and his intricate tattoos.

Oh bloody hell.

“So I just bite?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s not going to hurt you?”

“No.”

He taps a spot on his neck. “Here.”

I swallow hard and lean in. His scent—musk, power, and a faint metallic note of power—fills my nose. I brush his skin; he doesn’t even breathe. My hand trembles.

He rubs small, soothing circles on my back. “It’s all right, let the vampire part of you take over. Your instincts know what to do.”

He taps the spot again. “Just bite.”

Oh, gosh. I’m really going to do this.

But he’s my mate, and this will strengthen the bond. I press a brief kiss to his neck, then steel myself. It is going to be fine.

Fangs out, I sink them in.

His flesh parts easily, as if made for this. Rich, powerful blood surges into my mouth, fizzing with something electric. It tastes nothing like the blood I’ve tried before. His blood is alive with magic.

I take only a mouthful; I don’t want to be greedy. When I draw back, I gently lick the wound clean, sealing it, and press a kiss to his neck.

I didn’t frenzy. I didn’t lose control. It was… nice—pleasant, even. Who am I kidding? It was mind-bendingly incredible !

He looks pained, and I panic.

“V—Valdarr, are you all right? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry if?—”

“No,” he says hoarsely. “You didn’t hurt me, sunshine. It’s just… a lot. Having my mate bite me. It’s intense.”

“Oh,” I whisper. “Well… would you like to bite me now?”

“Yes,” he says, “but give me a moment.”

He sits motionless, eyes closed. When he opens them, they’re violet—glowing, vibrant, wild. I haven’t seen them like that since he was furious.

I brush my fingers across his cheek; he leans into my palm and kisses it.

“Are you ready,” I ask softly, “to seal the bond?”

He nods, smiling.

He gathers me onto his lap. The evidence of how much he enjoyed my bite presses against me, and I do my best to ignore it.

I slip off my top, leaving me in only my bra. I feel shy when he looks at me, and I cannot meet his eyes.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers. Valdarr leans in, nose tracing the line of my neck, lips brushing my skin.

He doesn’t rush.

I can feel the smile tugging at his mouth. Then—slowly, carefully—he bites.

Power floods me; emotions crash in, some mine, some his. It feels as though the universe pauses and says, “There. That’s them.”

The bond wraps around us like a steel cable. I feel his love, his need, and my own answering feelings rise to meet them .

It’s not just the bite; it’s a joining of souls.

He drinks only a little, then seals the wound with a kiss. He also kisses the scar on my neck.

“Wow,” I whisper.

“Wow, indeed,” he replies.