Page 91 of Taming His Vampire Mate

I waited for the punishment. For him to twist the knife, exploit my weakness, or cut me with my own sorrow. But instead, he said, “You know, I think I’d have done the same in your place. If I could give someone their humanity back—even a stranger—I think I’d move heaven and hell to try.”

I hissed a breath between my teeth. “I don’t know where this leaves us. I’m not good for anyone, Jeremy. I haven’t been for a long time.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Maybe I don’t need you to be ‘good.’ Or anything at all. Maybe just having you next to me is enough.”

“You say that to all the boys you’re mated to.”

He snorted, eyes dancing. “That’s actually sort of true.”

“What comes next?”

“Well, some sleep. Or food, then sleep. It’s been a while since I ate. You hungry?”

My gaze dipped to his throat, to the steady pound of his jugular. “Are you offering?”

His lopsided smile was almost obscenely adorable. “I told you we should finish the bond whenever you’re ready. I mean that now more than ever. If you want to bite me, you can. I trust you.”

“Right,” I said, staring. “Um. That—”

I broke off, my brain suddenly useless. The thought of tasting him, of giving him the pleasure of being fed from, was beyond tempting. I’d already handed him every tool to hurt me, but for the first time with anyone ever, I felt at peace in my vulnerability. Because deep down, I knew he wouldn’t.

Why not seal this and make it official?

“Anyway,” he said briskly, standing. He arched a brow at me, grinning shamelessly. “Until you’re ready, I’m hungry. Let’s get something to eat.”

Then he strolled to the edge of the roof—a four-story drop—and jumped.

Scowling, I rolled my eyes and followed.

* * *

Given it was well past midnight, nothing nearby was open—unless we wanted IHOP. Jeremy grinned at the thought, and I knew exactly what he was picturing: me in a chain restaurant under dingy lighting, surrounded by tatty carpet and sticky tables, the smell of butter and scrambled eggs in the air.

And—no. Just no.

We ended up at Nathaniel’s Place. The bar was still open and half-full, a mix of vampires and humans. Some of the humans were donors—employees of the king, well paid to feed whichever hungry vampires needed them. Others were friends or lovers of vampires before their turning. And a few, like Derek, had simply wandered in one night and never left.

We’d just claimed a table near an empty pool table when Pierce came storming over, James right behind him.

“What in the ever-loving fuck is he doing here?” Pierce demanded.

“Getting some food, I hope,” Jeremy said mildly.

Pierce ignored him, pinning me with a glare. “I don’t care about your personal life, but he doesn’t get to be anywhere near James. The dungeon is one thing. But nothere.”

A few regulars were watching, but I ignored them. “Jeremy and I would have ordered and left without a word.Youwere the one who brought James over here.”

“Pierce, stop,” James said, with his hand on his mate’s arm. “Seriously. I’m okay. We talked about this.”

“I still don’t understand it,” Pierce snapped. “After what this bloodless fuck tried to do to you? To us?”

“About that—” Jeremy began.

“You really think it’s a good idea to talk right now?” Pierce practically snarled, stepping between him and James. “What the hell are you still doing here?”

“You can back off now,” I said, my voice going dangerous. “He’s helping me, just like Nathaniel told him to. He’ll keep his distance from James. But if you lay a hand on him, you won’t get it back.”

“Okay,no!” James cut in, glaring at both of us. “I need you—bothof you—to knock it off.”