Page 25 of Zomromcom

“No one knows exactly how they do it,” he continued. “There are rumors that a particularly powerful witch gave them the ability in an ill-fated bargain, only to perish with their hands on her neck as they exercised their new power for the first time.”

Any sleepiness had now vanished. Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly into the shadows surrounding them.

“They can consume anywhere from a day to an entire human lifetime with each feeding, and their victims age that full amount of time within seconds. A single human year only goes so far, though. I’m not sure exactly how far—the fae are a particularly secretive species—but perhaps a week of extra life.

Maybe more, maybe less. Since only the Fates know our destined lifespans, the fae also can’t predict exactly how much time is available for consumption before choosing their targets.

” To his credit, his tone matched the grimness of his revelations.

“Before Supernaturals and the Enhanced revealed themselves to the common human world, the greediest fae, those pursuing immortality at all costs, played the odds. They didn’t exercise patience or try to mitigate the impact of their actions.

They didn’t discreetly consume a few months at a time or only target the elderly.

Any vulnerable human would do. And the younger the victim, the more years available for consumption, so the fae stole children and gulped entire lifetimes.

No one from your world knew of their existence, so no one suspected their involvement. ”

That quickly, she was cold again. As if she’d leapt back into that murky moat and let the water envelop her whole.

His breath rattled a bit in his lungs. “Most other Supernaturals don’t know about that particular fae ability either. My parents didn’t know. As a child, I didn’t know.”

Her lips pressed together, and she braced herself.

This wasn’t simply useful information. This was personal, and whatever story he was telling wouldn’t end well.

“We were making our way home from a festival. It was past midnight, but we cut through grimy alleyways and dark, wooded areas, because we had nothing to fear. We were predators, not prey, even though my parents insisted we show respect and mercy to those we fed upon.” The bitterness in his tone stung her ears.

“I was proud of that. Eleven years old and convinced that strength allied with righteousness would inevitably prevail.”

Her breath hitched. Eleven years old . Whatever horror he was about to recount, he’d suffered through much too early.

The story rolled on, inexorable. “Only a minute from our home, under the branches of a willow tree, we spotted movement. A human couple attacking a drunken man as he staggered home from an inn. They’d pinned him to the tree trunk and were choking the life out of him as he twitched helplessly beneath their hands. My parents intervened.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, she nodded to herself. “But the couple wasn’t human.”

“Glamoured fae. They dropped the man to the grass and—” He inhaled sharply.

“It happened so quickly. Branches encircled my parents’ wrists and ankles, holding them in place long enough for another branch to pierce their hearts.

A makeshift stake. They were dead before the human took his final breath. ”

Which meant he’d been right there. Close enough to see his parents’ bloodied, lifeless bodies. Close enough to check on the man and feel his heart laboring to a halt.

Somehow, she knew he’d done that. She knew he’d tried to assist the human victim and found himself as helpless to save the stranger as he’d been to save his parents.

And—did he just say the fae could commit cold-blooded murder with a fucking tree ?

How the hells had he survived? “Did they not see you? Were you hiding?”

“Oh, they saw me. But my death wouldn’t feed them, and I wasn’t a threat.

We vampires had no community to take vengeance for us, no friends, no authorities to intervene, and I was far too young to prove an entertaining foe in combat.

” Despite his bored tone, infinitesimal tremors racked his entire body.

He was vibrating like a tuning fork with anger and grief and heartbreak.

“They laughed at my attempts to avenge my family. When I tried to follow them, roots erupted from beneath the grass and barred my path.”

Her heart squeezing in her chest, she pressed back against him and reached for his hand. “Max—”

“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t require pity. It happened a long time ago.”

It wasn’t pity she’d hoped to offer, but that didn’t matter. She wouldn’t force her acknowledgment of his grief upon him or offer comfort for emotions he wanted to deny.

There were certain memories too dangerous to touch without some kind of self-protection. Make unguarded contact, and the third rail of your past could incinerate you.

She knew that better than most.

Better to focus on facts than feelings, then. “Do some of the fae still…”

Suck away years of human life like an evil Roomba? Murder with impunity?

“I don’t know. Probably.” Slowly, the rigid tension in his body began to soften. “They’d have to be more subtle, though, now that we’re out in the open. Maybe take a year or two at a time and feed more frequently instead of snatching a human’s entire lifespan.”

“Since that would draw too much attention from either human or SERC authorities.”

“Precisely.”

Maybe she shouldn’t ask, but—“You found the fae couple, didn’t you? Later.”

“It took me over a century,” he said, sounding exactly like the vicious creature of darkness humans had once imagined vampires to be. “In the end, they learned to suffer.”

By hunting down his parents’ killers, he’d transformed himself from prey into predator once again.

And perhaps his utter ruthlessness and towering determination in doing so—a century , dear gods—or the cold, sneering satisfaction in his tone when he spoke of the fae couple’s fate should frighten her.

They didn’t. She couldn’t seem to drum up much sympathy for the prey in question.

“Why didn’t you kiss me good night?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. At some point in the last several minutes, her brain-to-mouth filter had apparently flicked a two-finger farewell salute and hitched a ride to parts unknown.

He sounded impatient. “I told you. You need sleep.”

“A two-second kiss would hardly delay my—”

“I wouldn’t stop after two seconds, Edie.” His voice was a near snarl, the press of his erection against her ass steely. “You know that.”

“You’d fuck me.” Not a question. A statement.

“I’d fuck you.” His grip on her hip held her in place as he rolled his own hips, the grinding motion liquid. Sinuous. Taunting. “If you said yes, my Edie, I’d fuck you until you couldn’t remember how it felt without ma bite inside you.”

Her thighs squeezed together, and it only made matters worse. “I’d say yes.”

“I know ,” he snapped. “Which is why I’m not kissing you good night.”

After a minute of fraught silence, she said, “I assume ma bite means your dick.”

“You assume correctly.”

She thought back to earlier that day, fighting the urge to slide a hand—hers, his; either was fine—between her legs. “What does ma puce mean?”

“?‘My flea.’?” When she twisted her neck to scowl at him, he petted her upper arm soothingly. “It’s a term of endearment.”

“Sure it is.” She flopped her head back onto his left biceps. “As opposed to an intimation that I’m an irritating pest.”

“Can’t it be both?” His laughter shook them both, and she bit back her own smile. “We vampires have an affinity for bloodsuckers, sweet Edie. And either way, you must be under my skin, no?”

Her exaggerated harrumph made him laugh again. As she’d hoped it might.

She hadn’t meant to bicker with him about kissing, fucking, or fleas, but the discussion had served them well. All the anger and lingering grief had drained from his voice. His body no longer resembled a granite monolith at her back, and he wasn’t vibrating with tension anymore.

As he kept leisurely stroking her arm, she relaxed too, letting his hold and the cushions support her full weight. The ache of unsatisfied desire gradually diminished, and she sighed against the muscled curve of his satiny skin and snuggled closer.

“Do you have nightmares too?” she asked quietly. “About your parents?”

“Not about them.” His exhalation tickled her scalp. “Not anymore.”

That wording…it implied he did have nightmares, at least on occasion. But if those terrible dreams didn’t feature his parents, what were they about? What in the world could possibly be more traumatic than watching the murder of your family?

Her mouth opened to ask. Then closed again, slowly.

She didn’t have the heart to pry any further tonight. Not after he’d already shared so much of himself and such a painful part of his past with her.

When she remained silent, he gathered her closer. His right hand slowly slid to her chest, as it had earlier that day. His palm came to rest over her heart, his fingertips light and cool on the swell of her breast.

He couldn’t surround her completely. She was too generously proportioned for that. But he’d curled himself around her like armor, and at the first sign of trouble, he’d leap in front of her. Exactly as he’d done earlier that day.

She hadn’t even thanked him.

“I thought we were going to die today,” she whispered. “More than once. Thank you for making sure that didn’t happen.”

The tablecloths surrounding them rustled as he shrugged. “I could say the same to you.”

She sighed and let her eyelids slip shut. “I’m so glad to be alive.”

And not only because she was eager to learn whether rumors of vampiric stamina and dicking-related talent had their basis in fact. Although that didn’t hurt.

“I am too,” he murmured, then kissed the crown of her head. “Strange, that.”