Page 12 of Those That Don’t Exist (Hidden Vampires #1)

TY

“ S he’s got hunting instincts, and I’m fairly sure she felt the pull to me, to our kind.” The words feel like gravel in my mouth as they leave my tongue.

“Explain.”

Annoyance spreads over my body like goosebumps at Adicious’s curt response.

Gods damn him for grilling me on every little thing. If this was to be his future mate he should be the one putting in the damn work. Although the thought of him watching her like I do makes me want to growl. I have to try very hard to not huff as I offer up more information.

“She’s spotted me a couple times. She can feel the pact instincts, I think. She nearly caught me today, I’m sure she was tracking my scent.”

“Why didn’t you let her catch you. Maybe an interaction with our kind is what will finally trigger her fully,” Adicious snarls.

We’re in his office, he’s leaning against the front of the big oak monstrosity that is his desk.

I’m seated in one of the ratty leather chairs in front of him, trying to hold my gaze down.

“I wanted her to follow me somewhere quieter, we were in the middle of the city shopping district. Her friends caught up and got -”

“Then try again and don’t fuck it up,” he snaps over me. “My patience is wearing thin, Ty. I could swap you and Ronan, let him take care of this.”

“No!” I answer a little too quickly, my eyes lifting to meet his. My shadows swirl beneath me, barely contained. I spot them thickening under the desk too in my peripheral vision.

Adicious’s eyebrows draw together as he flashes me his fangs in warning. I’m pushing the line too far. It’s enough to have me drop my gaze again, wanting to avoid another beating. Unfortunately, I let my mouth run on.

“What I mean is, I’m on campus anyway, where she mostly stays. How would you explain Ronan’s presence there? Someone would notice if he’s not a student or staff sooner or later.”

“Don’t tell me how to run my pack,” Adicious roars, backhanding me across the cheek. I shrink away from the blow, and refuse to lift my hand to my face to soothe the skin.

“Sorry,” I bite out, then zip my lips.

Adicious paces in front of me for a few minutes.

“Ronan wouldn’t do a thorough job. You, as much as you need to remember your place, are better suited to this job for now,” he says. I slowly exhale a breath in relief.

“Now,” Adicious goes on, taking the seat behind his desk. “How is the other research going?”

“Good,” I respond, relaxing a tiny bit more. This is easier ground.

I dive into a full account of the other death certificates I found this week, the ones I suspect are fraudulent.

When I finally walk out of my leader’s office, an hour later, my brain is descending into a thick fog of exhaustion.

My stomach growls and my throat burns as I pass the common room, I can’t socialise any more right now. I retreat upstairs to my room instead, ignoring the thirst. As soon as I get the door closed I flop onto my back on my bed with a groan.

Putting an arm behind my head, I stare out at the functional small room. The white paint on the walls is faded and covered in general marks of wear and tear. The wooden wardrobe I share with my roommate stands with both doors open, clothes spewing out.

Clearly Mitch had overslept again and had blown through the room like a hurricane to get ready.

His bed, across from mine on the other side of the space, has also been left unmade and has even more clothes dumped on it.

He swapped between bar work and helping at the docks.

I assume by his lack of presence, and that I hadn’t heard his voice coming from the common room either, that he must’ve picked up a shift at one of the bars in the city tonight.

I hadn’t turned on a light, even though the sun had set and the night was creeping in.

I preferred to let my shadows out to play in the dusky light.

Some sweep from the dark corners towards me, others play across the space.

Seeing them dance always calms me when I’m stressed.

I watch them for a few minutes allowing my brain to relax.

Forcing the buzzing thoughts to leave my brain one refuses to quieten down.

What was it about this female? She was becoming more and more intriguing.

I’d come to know her from my brief daily acts of stalking.

She was certainly strong, I knew that from her comeback from the car wreck, but watching the way she was working to catch up on her studies had me admiring her work ethic.

She was starting to relax too, she had been so tense when she first returned to the campus, now her smiles and her laughter were becoming more frequent.

Maybe I was just feeling protective, she could be newly turned afterall, and newbies always needed a bit of guidance. The way I’d been raised meant caring was in my blood.

I’d helped Mitch quite a bit after Adicious turned him into one of us a few years back.

I was still not going out much after detoxing and he took a while to adjust. We’d become close enough to become roommates, although I would hardly say we were close.

At least, I hadn’t told him much about my past or my family.

I let my memories of this morning in the book store surface. She’d locked onto me, I’d felt it, a palpable air of predatory focus. It was a game of cat and mouse, even if she didn’t really realise it, and didn’t realise the mouse was actually a seasoned hunter himself.

I’d been so amused, watching her frustration grow, her face set in a determined scowl, as she repeatedly tried to catch me.

I’d not felt so alive in a long time. My heart had raced and my breath had caught each time I heard her step in my direction, not giving up.

Part of me wanted her to catch me, the other part had been so into the moment of fun I hadn’t wanted it to stop.

Outside the store I’d been able to pull on my shadows as I’d hid down that alleyway. I’d begged the gods to get her to follow and give me the ability to cloak her too. I’d planned to finally let her snare me.

Her friends had dashed those plans, and if I was right, she was just as disappointed about that as I was. It bled into her voice as she walked away, chatting to them.

The image flashes across my mind before I can stop it, of her, a walking spitfire, marching into the alley. I’d be lounging against the wall on one side, foot resting against it with my knee bent and my arms casually folded across my chest.

She’d demand answers, calling me on my shit in a tirade and end it by surprising me with a question.

“Are you stalking me?”

My cock twitches and my hand automatically reaches down to adjust myself. The touch makes it fill more as my brain supplies more of the scene I wish had played out.

I raise an eyebrow at her, and let a smirk catch my lips, causing her to almost stumble. Her anger rises further. She stops talking, waiting for me to answer.

I push off the wall with my bent leg and take a step towards her. She steps back as if just noticing how close she’s got to me in her rant. How alone we are down this alley, out of sight.

“So what if I am?” I answer her with a question, wanting to see how far I can push her.

She’s stunning like this, chest puffed out and hands on her hips.

She’s keeping up the bravado well, despite that step back.

She’s unwilling to admit she’s the prey and I’m the predator, even though her body will be screaming at her to run.

I step closer to close the distance between us.

She backs away, again.

I’m now unabashedly stroking my aching cock over my jeans. Fuck it feels good.

“Answer me dammit.” She finds her voice again. “I’ve seen you around for weeks, and whenever I try to approach, you run. Who are you?”

“You sure you want the answer?”

“Yes.” She flings her hands up in what I think is exasperation, confidence renewed. The red hot anger returning as emerald flames in her eyes.

I pounce. Grabbing both her wrists in my hands, I slam her back into the opposite wall using my hips to pin her body as I bring her hands above her head.

“I am something that only exists in myths,” I taunt her, whispering it low next to her ear.

She is such a complex creature. There is fear in her eyes but the anger is still vibrant too. I can practically see her mind working, processing everywhere we’re touching, trying to figure out how she can flip the tables .

In my bed my breath is hitching, my cock throbbing almost painfully now, a bead of precum leaking from the tip and into my boxers. I open the button and fly on my jeans, shoving them down to my thighs, along with my boxers, to take myself fully in hand.

In my mind she moves fast, but not fast enough.

She tries to pull a knee up to bust my balls at the same time as swinging her head forward to head butt me.

I, with my supernatural reflexes, simply turn my pelvis, so her knee contacts my thigh before I use my leg to push between hers, unstabilizing her on her remaining standing leg, forcing her to put the other back down.

I almost don't move my head in time but luckily she doesn't make contact, the movement only enveloping me with more of her beautiful scent.

“Nice try, Red,” I goad her, swiping my nose up her neck as she rests her head back against the wall. She stops struggling then.

“What are you doing?” she asks breathily.

“Can’t you feel it?” I whisper into her neck, my lips brushing where her collarbone meets her throat.

“You can’t deny the way you’ve looked at me when you’ve caught me stalking you.”

My fangs descend at the proximity of her artery.

“I was hoping for a conversation, maybe a date.” I feel her swallow as I continue to explore her neck.

“I can’t give you that. I shouldn’t be giving you this.”

I move both her wrists into my left hand, freeing the other to slowly brush my fingers down her arm.

I run them all the way down her side, over her clothes, until my hand comes to rest on her hip.

There's a small gap between her jumper and jeans, my thumb finds naked skin. She’s so soft, so delicate, under my touch, although I bet she is anything but.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” I lift my gaze to hers so she can see my sincerity. I wouldn't force myself on her, even in my fantasies.

“Don't stop,” she whispers as she grinds her hips against my thigh that’s still between her legs. Fucking hell.

I press forward, closing every inch between our bodies.

My lips crash to hers and instantly she opens to me.

I waste no time in entangling our tongues or pushing my hips into her so she can feel just how much I want her.

I’m rewarded with a groan from her, it travels straight from her throat and into mine.

As I swallow I swear it runs straight to my dick.

That's all it takes. I’m coming, firing cum all over the t-shirt I hadn't bothered to remove. My hand slows, prolonging the ebb of my orgasm.

My breathing comes in laboured breaths as I steadily recover. Fucking hell . That might’ve been the hardest I’ve come in years, and it was to a fantasy.

I lie there for a few minutes before common sense prevails, I need to get cleaned up. I do share this room with Mitch afterall and I’d never hear the end of it if he caught me post wank.

I peel the t-shirt off, sinking it into the plastic box we call the laundry bin, as I head into the ensuite to wash.

I move by muscle memory as I clean up, my brain trying to process what my imagination has just thrown at me.

I knew I was getting attached to Aurora, but I thought it was just feeling empathy towards her, wanting to protect her from any more shit. She’s been through enough.

Turns out my intentions are possibly just as nefarious.

Turns out I might not want Adicious to have her because maybe I want her for myself.

I meet my gaze in the mirror above the sink. I’m so fucked.