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Soren grinned wider at the thought. It sure as hell turned Soren on. He’d been wanting to sink his fangs into this man since the first day he saw him. The little taste he’d gotten on the day Soren had healed him from Lucien’s attack hadn’t been nearly enough.

Gabe placed his own hand over Soren’s on his chest. “Will it hurt? Danny said it doesn’t usually hurt. Was—was he just saying that?”

So not fear, exactly, but his human was definitely nervous. Soren shook his head. “Maybe for an instant, but I promise you I’ll make you feel good. Very, very good.”

Soren licked his lips, his gaze moving to Gabe’s neck. He knew he should feel more empathy for Gabe’s nerves, but the predator in him was focused on only one thing right now.

Soren wanted this—wanted him —and he was beyond ready to take what he wanted.

“Close your eyes, Highness,” he purred.

Warmth bloomed in Soren’s chest when Gabe complied easily, dark lashes fluttering.

Soren let his vamp come to the surface. If the corner weren’t so dark and hidden, the changes might be evident to those around them but not necessarily.

Vampires were subtle monsters. Adapted for blending in with their prey.

Soren knew his eyes were darkening, black taking over his pale irises and the whites beyond. He felt his fangs drop.

But that was it. Easy as pie.

He reached an arm up, placing a hand on the back of Gabe’s neck to bend him down to Soren’s level, rising onto his toes to meet the human halfway. He liked Gabe’s size normally, was delighted and turned on by taking control of the larger man, but it was a little inconvenient for feeding.

Maybe Soren should have worn his heeled boots.

When Gabe was right where he wanted him, Soren dropped a soft kiss on his neck, directly over his pulsing jugular. Gabe’s breath hitched. Soren tongued the same spot, lavishing it with attention.

“Soren…” Gabe’s voice came out strained.

“Yes, Highness?” Soren smiled against his salty skin.

“You’re teasing me.”

Soren licked his mark again. “Just warming you up.”

Gabe’s fingers spasmed on Soren’s hips. “Please, Soren.”

Well, when he asked so nicely…

Soren couldn’t possibly deny such a polite request. He sank his fangs in with one smooth motion, moaning around the burst of flavor on his tongue. Gabe tasted as delicious as he smelled—clean and bright, with earthy undertones that had Soren’s head swimming.

Or possibly that was Gabe’s blood alcohol level. Soren had gotten buzzed off drunk victims before—it was actually a faster way for vampires to feel the effects of alcohol, rather than consuming booze themselves.

He drank deep, gratified when he felt Gabe’s cock hardening against his stomach, the human moaning in surprise at his own reaction. Soren couldn’t blame him. His own cock was hard as well. Blood and sex. This was what life—a vampire’s life—was all about.

If he wanted, Soren could enhance the pleasurable sensations his venom was sparking along Gabe’s neurons with compulsion, but Gabe didn’t seem to need it. Soren had never been so pleased with the side effects of a vampire’s bite as he was now, feeling Gabe’s undeniable reaction against him.

Because he didn’t just want to claim Gabe. He wanted Gabe to feel good. To crave being fed on the same way Soren already knew he was going to crave feeding on his human.

Ending a bite had never been a problem for Soren—not since his very first days as a vampire—but it took every ounce of willpower to release his hold on Gabe’s neck.

The human just tasted so goddamn good .

Soren placated himself by lapping up stray drops as he licked the wound closed with his healing saliva, humming to himself.

Gabe was panting against him, his fingers still in bruising grips on Soren’s hips.

“Fuck. I mean—fuck. Danny told me it felt good. I just— I thought he was trying to keep me from worrying.”

Soren dropped a last kiss over the now-healed bite. “No. It’s usually very…pleasant…for humans.”

“And—” Gabe paused, and Soren swore he could see a flush forming on the man’s cheeks under the club’s flashing lights. “You could do that just with me, right? I have enough blood to…satisfy you?”

A pang of desire shot through Soren at the thought. Feeding on Gabe. Feeding only on Gabe.

But he couldn’t resist teasing. “If that’s what you like… In the old days, vampires often kept a favorite human pet to feed on exclusively.”

As expected, Gabe’s brow furrowed immediately. “I’m not your pet .”

Soren smirked up at him. “Then what are you?”

But Soren didn’t get to hear the answer to his question, because out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar face in the crowd.

One that couldn’t possibly be there.

Every muscle in Soren’s body tensed. He can’t have found me already.

“Stay here,” he barked, pressing Gabe back against the wall. Gabe opened his mouth to protest, but Soren was gone before the words could leave the man’s mouth.

He pushed through the crowd in the direction he’d seen him.

Not there.

Soren tore through every inch of the club, aware that he was moving faster than a human should be able to, unable to find it in himself to care. Hopefully the flashing strobes would hide it, make the crowd think it was a trick of the light.

Not fucking there.

Had Soren been seeing things? Was his fear making him paranoid? Maybe the strain of over a century of running was finally catching up to him.

Unsuccessful, he eventually made his way back over to Gabe, who was standing in the same corner he’d been left in, arms crossed over his chest, an impressive scowl on his handsome face.

“What the fuck, Soren?” Gabe glared at him. “You feed off me, call me your ‘pet,’ then just disappear? What, you saw something tastier-looking across the way?”

There was real hurt in Gabe’s tone, hurt Soren should address, but he could feel old defenses coming to the forefront. He rolled his eyes. “Your jealousy was cute at first, human, but it’s quickly growing old.”

Soren watched as the color drained from Gabe’s face. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Soren was fucking everything up, too frustrated and overwhelmed to be patient the way he should with Gabe’s insecurities.

Normally, this was where Soren would just…walk away. He hated misunderstandings, considered them an easy excuse to let someone go. Explaining himself took emotional energy Soren didn’t usually care enough to give.

But he found himself walking toward Gabe instead of away, placing his hand on Gabe’s chest, over the man’s heart. Gabe held himself stiffly, but he didn’t reject Soren’s touch.

That was something, right?

“I’m sorry.” The words tasted like ash in Soren’s mouth. A perfect night, ruined by Soren’s shitty baggage. “I can explain, but I want to go home first. Is that okay?”

He waited for the yelling, for the accusations, but Gabe only nodded, his lips pressed together tightly.

The drive home was tense.

Soren took the long way back, or at least his version of it—taking unnecessary turns, backtracking down the same streets. He wasn’t a fucking secret agent; he had no idea how to actually lose a tail if he had one.

Soren’s strategy had always been based on avoiding detection as long as possible, not so much the escape part once he was found. But he did his best.

Gabe didn’t comment. He’d closed his eyes, slumping down in the passenger seat, apparently unwilling to deal with Soren until he had some sort of explanation.

Soren knew he had fucked up badly. Gabe had let himself be vulnerable in a real way with Soren—let himself be literal prey to a monster—and Soren had immediately, if unintentionally, messed with the man’s head.

What was supposed to be a moment of carefree teasing had turned into something else entirely.

At least it left Soren free to drive like a lunatic.

Now if only he could ease some of the tightness in his chest. Because Soren knew, even if he fixed things with Gabe, it wouldn’t make any difference. None of it would help. It was only a matter of time now.

Even if Soren hadn’t been able to find him in the crowd afterward, he knew what he’d seen.

Hendrick had found him.