Page 38 of Vampire so Virtuous (Boston Vampires #1)

Cally saw the distant look in his eyes, a flickering hint of the loneliness of his life. But what did it matter that a monster was lonely? Did he not deserve to be? No, that was unconvincing; it failed even to persuade her. Everyone deserved someone, even if they were a coffin enthusiast.

Dangerous ground, Cally. He’s a monster, and don’t forget it.

She sighed. “You can feed from me, if you must, but not from my neck.” Not after how it felt last time.

His lips twitched. “There’s a lovely artery in your inner thigh.”

“Fuck, no.” Is he serious? She proffered her arm once more. “Wrist, or nothing.”

She couldn’t track his movement; one second, he was opposite her, standing casually with one hand loosely tucked in his pocket, the other holding the envelope, that smug little smirk playing on his lips.

The next, he was behind her, cradling her against him, his hand tightening around her throat as he forced her neck back, pinning her in place.

Somehow, the letter from the Curia was on the coffee table.

“Why do you think I would let you dictate to me?” his lips brushed her ear. “Especially when I know what it is you really want.”

“Please don’t.” She was helpless in his grip, all her strength and speed meaningless. It was futile to fight, and she hated how weak it made her feel.

He brushed his lips against her neck. “You shouldn’t say such things to me.” His voice was a breath across her skin. “It calls to the predator in me.”

“I’m no one’s prey.”

“Why so sure, ma chérie ?”

She felt the sting of his fangs at her neck, her body tensing reflexively beneath his bite.

She couldn’t help the gasp of pain, or the way it turned into a moan as soon as he drew the first mouthful of her blood.

Why did it feel so good? Why did it pull at her, in places it had no business pulling at?

“Stop…” The word barely escaped her lips, a whisper he ignored.

She felt him pull again and again, her blood rushing through her body, and the light-headed sensation flooding her mind.

Unable to help herself, she leaned against him, his body firm against her back, and lost herself to the pleasure he created—the pleasure she had so desperately wanted to avoid.

All too soon, he stopped. His tongue licked across her neck, and she knew there’d be no wound—just a trace, and even that would fade within a day or two.

Faster than before, thanks to the mark. She’d still need to skip another session with Joon, and pretend she wasn’t the plaything of a vampire.

The dizziness faded swiftly too, fast enough for her to push away from him. He didn’t try to restrain her.

“I told you to stop.” She wheeled to face him, backing away. The distance between them was an illusion of safety; to him, it was no gap at all. She clutched her neck in reflex, but the pain had faded. It only tingled, and not in a bad way.

Unbothered, he slipped his fingers into the pockets of his jeans with his usual infuriating grace and smugness. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”

“That’s not the point, you bastard, and you know it.”

“So you did enjoy it.” His smirk was intolerable.

She took a deep breath and let it out, but it didn’t help. “Do you know what rape is, Antoine? Do you know what makes you a monster?”

“Rape? How does feeding qualify as ‘rape’?” His expression sobered, and she took some vindictive pleasure in that.

Then he dropped his chin to his chest, staring down at the carpet.

“My only choice is to survive”—he gave a bitter laugh—“or go sunbathing, as you so delicately suggested last time. I choose, rightly or wrongly, to survive. Which means I need blood.” He looked up at her.

“I take comfort in knowing that it brings my prey some pleasure. Many vampires kill. I don’t.

Many vampires feed off pain and suffering.

At least I don’t have to do that. But it’s not rape.

” He didn’t meet her eyes. “I don’t kill, I don’t feed off those with families, and I don’t feed on someone more than once. ”

“Just a veneer of self-justification layered over a morally indefensible argument.”

He looked at her in surprise, then shrugged, resigned. “Perhaps.”

She watched him, trying to reconcile the pain in the hunch of his shoulders and his haunted expression with the smug exoticism he often projected. Sometimes it was like he was two different people. “It’s not even true. You fed on me more than once.”

He shook his head, as if she didn’t understand. “There’s something different about you. Your blood is the most potent, powerful and delicious blood I’ve ever had.”

“Lucky me,” she said bitterly.

“Mmm. Lucky me too,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t choose this, and that makes two of us. I’m stuck with being a vampire, and I guess you’re stuck with me.”

“It’s a cute line, Antoine, but it’s bullshit. It’s not the eighteenth century anymore. We have blood banks.”

“Dead blood,” he replied flatly, his lip curling in distaste. “If we don’t drink from the source, it’s like eating rotten food.”

“Does it have to be human blood? What about cows or pigs?”

“Yes, and you could just as easily live on rats and slugs. Why don’t you?”

She huffed in exasperation. “You have money. Science could probably explore whatever you need for food, and—”

“Extract it?” he finished for her, the words sharp. “Chattel feeding me like it’s pet food?” His eyes flashed, a red tinge fleetingly appearing through the pale blue. “You think I have no pride?”

Cally’s laugh was sharp, almost cruel. “Pride? You’re seriously talking about pride? You’re a fucking parasite, Antoine, a predator with a nice little rationalization for your own selfishness. And you’re worried about pride?”

She took a step toward him, words tight with contempt. “Let’s not pretend you’re above it. You justify your actions with whatever excuse fits, but the truth is, you’re scared to face what you are. A monster feeding off people because you can’t stop—no, because you won’t .”

“You’re damn right,” he said coldly. “Of course I won’t stop.

You called me a monster, wouldn’t you be disappointed if I did?

” He scoffed, but that flicker of hurt reappeared in his eyes—until he turned away, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“I won’t apologize for existing. I don’t even kill.

I take because I have to—and yes, because I can.

” When he spoke again, his voice was softer.

“I don’t need your moral high ground. I don’t need your pity.

You’re still alive, aren’t you? That’s all that matters. ”

“And what if I say no? What if I don’t want to play anymore?”

“I’d have to feed off others, instead. But the mark won’t ever fade.” He paused. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’d think about it?” she echoed, surprised he’d even consider such a thing.

“Marking you means you’ll always have enough blood for me, but perhaps it would be better if I went back to feeding off others, off those who never knew I had.”

She stared at him, then laughed, a humorless sound. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Don’t know what?”

“I had nightmares for days after you fed from me the first time—almost too scared to leave my apartment. You think you’re not affecting these people, but you are.”

He shook his head in denial. “No. I know I’m not.

You forget, I’ve been doing this for decades.

Centuries.” The last word was almost a whisper.

He frowned as he looked at her. “You’re different, Cally.

The way the mark is on you, the nightmares—hell, even the taste of your blood. There’s something about you.”

She turned away and paced across the room, hugging herself. She stopped before the window, looking out over his beautiful garden, bathed in the soft light of the house, the rest hidden in shadows.

“If I don’t let you feed on me, you’ll feed on others,” she said at last.

“They’d never know.”

“You say they’d never know. And maybe you’re right.” Does that make it any better? It didn’t matter. She turned to face him. “But I would know. Just like I’d know it wouldn’t have been necessary if I’d only agreed.”

He turned and picked up the letter from the table, his back to her. “Well, it’s your decision.”

“Oh, thanks,” she said sarcastically. “Decide between being your snack-on-legs or living with the knowledge I sent you out to feed on others. Some choice.”

He still didn’t face her, but his head turned slightly to one side. “Are you suggesting it’s for the benefit of random strangers, and not for me? ”

She frowned in surprise, contemplating his words. “For you?”

“If I feed on you, I don’t need to feed on them. Are you doing it to save others from having to go through this, or to stop me from being such a monster?”

“I…” Cally shook her head.

She didn’t want to think of him as anything other than a monster, it made it too complicated.

But it already wasn’t simple, was it?

Because for all his arrogance, all his self-serving excuses, he wasn’t what she wanted him to be. He wasn’t some remorseless predator, feeding and discarding without a second thought. He wasn’t soulless, incapable of anything but hunger. He cared, in his own way. And that complicated everything.

Damn it.

Why did I even come here tonight?

“I can’t believe I came here to get away from your thralls.” She clung onto her anger, letting it drive her. “Don’t send them after me again.”

His shoulders tightened within the silk of his gown, but he said nothing.

“Did you hear me?” she demanded.

“My hearing is far better than yours.”

That earned him another glare, which went unseen. “There’s lines, Antoine. You can’t…” She waved a hand in frustration. “You can’t suffocate me like this. You can’t just…” She trailed off again, not convinced she’d made her point. Whatever her point was.

He turned around, his pale blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Have you made a decision?”

“No, I—” She swallowed. “You… you’re going to go and meet this Curia?”

“ Oui. ”

“Well… at least you’ve fed.” ‘At least you’ve fed’? What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Cally?

“You should be safe while I’m with them.” He tapped the letter against his hand. “All the other vampires will be there too, so there should be no danger. But keep an eye out for Minh’s thralls.”

“I will.”

“Better yet, stay in the house tonight. You and your friend. Marcel will find you a bed.”

She stared at him in surprise. “Is that necessary?”

“A precaution, but a prudent one, I think. ”

“All right.”

He nodded, then turned and walked from the room without another word.

She watched him go, confused.

How come he’s the one drinking my blood, and I’m the one left feeling like shit?

Marcel opened the other door as if summoned. “All finished, madam?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” she said, still staring at the door through which Antoine had gone. She shook her head, and turned to Marcel. “What manner of man is he, Marcel? Not as a vampire, but as a man.”

The old retainer tilted his head and gave her a long, assessing look. “He is a man in pain, madam. But I have always thought of him a good man, a virtuous man—though one who carries his sins like shackles. If he were not, they would not weigh on him so.”

“Yes… yes, I can see that.” Cally chewed her lip, making her decision. “Tell him I said ‘yes,’ will you please? When you see him next?”

Marcel inclined his head. “Of course, madam.”