Page 3 of Make Me Bleed (Sanctuary #2)
CHAPTER 2
JULIAN
I t isn’t often that I leave the house.
There’s no reason for me to. Eating human food just reminds me how much my body craves blood so I don’t go down to the canteen. Now that I know that the commissary doesn’t sell any, I avoid the small store. We have a library that I have visited, and a community center that I haven’t, but with so many pulses, so many veins around, it’s just easier to stay inside where the temptation can’t reach me.
All of the human donors are claimed. Vampires are as territorial as wolves. None of the other vamps in Dyea will share. I wouldn’t expect them to, even though most of the sanctuary is now in on Bridget’s secret. After that witch hunter female attempted to burn down Dyea, she couldn’t really hide her fire magic anymore; not when Bridge spent the last few weeks reversing the damage that Linda’s arson did out in the woods. That means that her cover as my human donor is blown, and I wondered how long it would take for one of the other vampires to take advantage of that.
Not all vampires are capricious, clever, and domineering, but enough of them are that I expected at least a few to use my thirst against me. My fellow vamps made their disdain for me clear shortly after my arrival. Unlike a shifter pack, there is no community amongst us fanged supes unless a Cadre forces that on us.
We don’t have a Cadre here, though I’ve lived in Dyea long enough to understand that there is a sort of hierarchy among the vampires. Though they keep to themselves—and have basically treated me as if I don’t exist—I’ve interacted with them enough times to figure out who to be wary of and who might be a potential ally.
And Julian?
He’s at the top of the hierarchy and my list of vampires to steer clear of.
I’ve managed to do so for the most part. I’ve only ran into him a few times since my arrival, but after I finally shut down Bridget’s intervention for the time-being, I decide to head out and go for a stroll—only to immediately catch Julian’s attention.
Like most of the vampires, he keeps his human donor tucked out of sight. He’s alone, and when his pale blue eyes light up as he sees me step out onto my porch, I can’t shake the feeling that this is another setup.
My hand reaches behind me, searching for the knob. I could push in the door, slip inside again, and slam it before Julian can get any closer?—
—and that might have worked if he wasn’t a vampire with the gift of super speed.
One moment, he’s on the opposite side of the oval that creates the inner rim of the sanctuary town. The next? He’s on my porch, one arm outstretched, caging me in against the door that I never had the chance to open.
He grins, flashing his fangs. “Elise.”
He smiles like he means it, but I know better. That’s why I do whatever I can to slow my racing heart before I give Julian the wrong idea. “Afternoon.”
His grin widens, and I clench my jaw. Crap. He got the wrong idea alright. Instead of assuming that the way he’s cornering me is enough to spook another vampire, he caught the thrum of my pulse and immediately believed it was a signal of my attraction to him.
He’s gorgeous, of course. It’s a vampire quirk. To lure our prey close, we have to be alluring, don’t we? Tempting, too. We rarely need to rely on thralling our donors when a seductive smile does the job for us.
Julian has aristocratic features: high cheekbones, a sloped nose, firm lips. He’s as fair-skinned as I am—thanks to SPF-5000, I’m sure—with sleek white-blonde hair smartly parted on the left. He has a divot in his chin, and a come-hither look in his eyes as he bows his lean body over mine.
There’s also a slight flush to his cheeks that says he’s not only full, but that he’d recently fed.
Bastard. He’s rubbing it in, isn’t he? I’m almost sure of it, and then he uses his other hand to stroke my cheek, drawing attention to how colorless it is.
There’s something about Julian. He wears civility like a suit, but there’s been poison under every polite word he’s said to me since I followed Bridget to Dyea. It’s another reason why I’ve stayed away from him, so why is he here now ?
I don’t know, and I’m not sure I really want to.
Trying to stay polite myself—as befitting a born vampire, trained from the cradle… and not the coffin—I ease my head out of his reach. “I was on my way to meet Bridget,” I tell him. It’s not a lie. After my walk, I planned on seeing if Bridget would talk to me without her wolfy shadow. “So, if you’ll excuse me…”
I’d hoped that would be enough. That Julian would understand that, whatever’s brought him to my doorstep, I’m not interested.
He likes to think he’s in charge of the vampires in Dyea. Stacey warned me about that my first few days in town, one of the only vamps who deigned to notice our arrival. If there was a Cadre, Julian would insist on leading it, but since there isn’t, he controls the vampires through the whisper network that doesn’t quite reach my side of the sanctuary.
He’d left me alone, and I was so consumed with making sure that Bridget was okay—and, yes, with my thirst, too—that I forgot about Julian.
Until now.
I thought my excuse, flimsy as it was, would be enough to get the other vampire to drop his hand and back away. Instead, his gaze sweeps over me like I’m a pet who’s performed an amusing trick and he’s debating whether or not to give me a treat.
I don’t like drawing attention to myself. I get enough of it as it is, and I’ve learned long ago that no matter what I wear, my vampiric nature will win out. Whether it’s a burlap sack or a piece of silky lingerie, most males react as though it’s the latter. That thought in mind, I’ve always decided that I might as well choose the style of clothing that I feel the most comfortable in.
My parents insisted that a proper van Duren female is always immaculately dressed. Whether in a skirt or trousers, wearing flats or heels, I haven’t changed my appearance since I was a young fledgling, barely coming into her fangs.
I do prefer my heels. Bridget calls me petite, and she’s being kind. I’m short. The heels give me an added three inches in height, and I crave them.
I totter on them now, trying to hide from his pale-eyed stare.
The way Julian is watching me so closely without saying anything gives me enough of a push to duck under his arm so that there is some space between us. It helps that I’m a good six inches shorter than Julian, even in my heels, and I’m an expert maneuvering on the high points. Plus, my quick escape only seems to interest him more.
Crap. The last thing I need right now is a male deciding I’m worthy of his attention, vampire or not. One of my favorite things about living in the sanctuary is how small of a community it is. Between staying inside our given cabin and not having such a large population to deal with, it’s been such a relief to just exist .
No constant dates, desperate for a nip. No humans stalking me when I reject or refuse them. No males eye-fucking me without any shame. No females doing the same, or if they’re not, then scalding me with their hateful, jealous glares.
If only Dyea had a blood bank or a few unclaimed donors willing to feed a vamp. It would be perfect then, though it’s fairly close now.
Or so I thought, until Julian moves gracefully down the porch steps, meeting me on the earth, his calculating gaze never leaving my face.
From a distance, it would seem as if we were simply a vampire male and female circling each other, having a chat. He’s not so close as to be considered improper—or a threat—and I’m not showing off any signs of my innate discomfort. Slowing my heart rate further, giving him a lofty expression in return, I ask, “Was there something you needed to discuss, Julian? Because I don’t have anything to say to you.”
“Don’t worry, Elise. I’m not offended by how eager you are to be rid of me. I know better than most of our kind how testy the thirst can make us.”
I immediately tense up. The thirst… he knows. He can tell just how much I’m struggling with it.
I can’t deny it, and Julian takes my silence as my agreement that he’s right. His voice is suddenly smooth as he says, “The thirst is terrible, Elise. Luckily, I can help you with that.”
Out of the kindness of his heart? Not likely. “And how would you do that?”
“I won’t share my human. I think we both know that. But there’s another arrangement?—”
Arrangement. “Such as?”
For the first time since I’m paying attention, Julian’s gaze dips. His eyes train on the cleavage revealed by the top of my dress. “Let me feed you,” he murmurs, “from my vein. As for what you’ll give me in return… I’m sure we can figure something out.”
And there it is. Did I honestly think it could be anything else? As though Julian is treating me like I treated all my males on my countless dinner dates, he’ll feed me—but I have to do something for him in return.
Only Julian won’t want to feed from me. It would be too reckless. In order to trigger a mate bond between a vampire and their chosen lover, there must be a dual blood exchange. When I’m ready to claim my beloved—either my fated partner, or the one I’m willing to spend the rest of my immortal life with—I’ll bite them, then I’ll allow them to make me bleed. Then we’ll fuck, and the tie that developed during the second exchange will be finalized.
All vampires learn that when they become sexually mature. A one-way exchange is fine. That’s just feeding. But when you’re vulnerable and feed your male, then give him your body? The bond is unbreakable.
If Julian takes my blood after giving me his, sex would forge a connection between us I could never escape. The blood is such a crucial part of a vampire’s mating. Unlike shifters, who focus on the actually fucking part and are more often than not virgins when they claim their forever mates, vampires can sleep with whoever they want without worry… so long as only one of us bleed.
He’ll feed me his blood to quell my thirst. And if he does, he’ll expect me in his bed as soon as I’ve taken my fangs from his skin so that he could plunge his cock inside of me instead.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had a male vampire proposition me in this way. To be fair, my situation with Peter is proof that it isn’t the first time I’ve had a human male in the know about supes who was eager to feed me so that I’d fuck him in return. It’s another quirk of vampire society. Like I once told Bridget, it’s considered uncouth to repeatedly feed off of a human donor of the sex you’re attracted to without introducing other pleasures of the flesh.
Julian’s human donor is a woman; I’ve scented her on him. If he’s looking at me with eyes that are currently undressing me on the spot, he’s at least somewhat attracted to females. He’ll be sleeping with her, I’m sure, but it would just be another arrangement to him unless she’s his beloved.
And because a mated vampire would never offer to feed another female, she’s not… which means he would see no problem entering into an arrangement with me .
He doesn’t.
I do .
It’s not just about my body, either. I’ve been sexually active since the lure of hot human blood made me reckless as a freshly mature forty-year-old vampire. I was a late bloomer—coddled and protected by my parents as a born vamp—but in the thirty-four years since I started fucking a select number of my donors, I’ve gone through plenty. I only stopped when Peter wouldn’t give up, and I chose to swap out my dinner dates to keep another human from getting too attached… and to stop Peter from stalking the males who fed me, warning them away from ‘his’ vampire.
His vampire. While wearing Delilah’s fang on a chain around his neck, he dared refer to me as his…
I am Elise van Duren. I belong to no one else but me .
“I appreciate the offer and your concern, but I’ll be fine. Thank you anyway.”
“Are you sure?” He’s still amused, and also insistent. “Because, as lovely as you are, Elise, you don’t look fine.”
I clench my jaw. If he thinks saying something like that is going to make me change my mind? He couldn’t be more wrong. I’ve never wanted to drink from another male less than I do the smug Julian.
Where has this sudden desire to worry about me come from? I’ve spoken to him maybe twice since my arrival in Dyea, and both times I’ve gotten the idea that he was sizing me up and finding me severely lacking.
Maybe he should remember that.
I grin, making it as dazzling as I can, content in the knowledge that he can proposition me all he wants, but there’s no way he can make me agree.
“If I get desperate enough to reconsider, I’ll make sure you know.”
Julian lashes his hand out, wrapping his long, spindly fingers around my wrist. It’s a gentle hold, though he moves so quickly, I get the impression of a rattlesnake. Like he’s showing me how fast he can strike, and though he shifts his hold so he can caress his thumb along my palm before releasing me, he could do something else if he chose to.
And then he gives me a smile that’s warm, while his icy blue eyes stay cold.
“Please do, Elise.”
I know in an instant, I was right. He’s definitely the sort of vampire to be wary of. He’s elegant, yes—but he’ll burn down the town if it gets him what he wants… and, to my despair, it seems as if Julian has set his sights on me.
Luckily, Bridget isn’t just a fire witch. As she’s explained to me, she’s actually an elemental witch now. She discovered the true extent of her powers when Linda Green attacked Bridge and Conall. Sure, she’s a whizz when it comes to wielding her flames, but she also has control over wind, water, and earth.
Let Julian try to burn down Dyea. She’ll stop him, and knowing my own strengths, I’ll stand by and watch her.
Matching his expression, I remove my hand from his and lift it, tucking a stray strand of ruby-red hair out of my face. “Of course.”