Page 24 of Kiss Kiss Fang Fang


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I took only as much blood as I needed, then discreetly wiped the encounter from the women’s memories. They’d find the twin puncture wounds on their necks tomorrow but would come up with some way to explain it.

I walked back to Cara, wiping my mouth with a cloth from my pocket. “I feel better now.”

Cara’s lips were pressed together, and she wasn’t meeting my eyes. “Good. I’m happy to hear it.”

She started walking quickly, and in no particular direction as far as I could tell. I watched her back, thinking of the things I wanted to say. There were many. And I didn’t know if I would’ve been saying them for her benefit, or my own.

I never asked to be this way.

I’d take it all back if I had the choice.

Many times, I’ve wished I was human. I’ve wished I could live and die a normal life with a normal person like you.

But I said nothing. I didn’t deserve to make excuses for myself. I knew what I was.

I chose to continue my existence. I could’ve found a place in the sun and waited for it to end me if I wanted. I could’ve let Bennigan tear me to pieces. There were a thousand opportunities to let this end, and yet I kept fighting to survive.

Feedings like she’d just seen were the cost of my existence, and I wasn’t going to apologize for them.

14

Cara

I swallowed uneasily. The place Lucian had taken us to looked exactly like the kind of place you went into if you wanted someone to drug your drink or steal your money. Or both.

“You’re sure about this?” I asked.

Lucian had seemed off ever since he fed on those women, and to be honest, I’d felt off, too. It was a brutal reminder that this was real.

It wasn’t just some silly story I’d tell when I was older about that time I had to pretend a vampire was my boyfriend slash foreign exchange student slash whatever. He was a vampire. He drank people’s blood. He’d made me drink his blood, and some insane voodoo magic bond was forcing me to feel like I couldn’t bear to be ten steps away from the guy.

Reality apparently couldn’t care less if this all seemed too off the wall to believe. Here I was, and there he was.

To complicate things, I was increasingly sure I actually liked the guy, too. Even if he did bite people in darkened alleys and live in some twisted, creepy world.

Lucian led me down a few steps directly in front of a black-painted brick building. The steps turned a corner and led to an equally black door with a woman dressed like a goth sitting out front. She eyed us, showing a little flickering recognition when she focused on Lucian.

“Is that you?” she asked.

Lucian grunted in acknowledgment. “It’s been a while. I know. But I’m here now, and I brought a friend. My girlfriend, actually.”

The woman swung an incredulous gaze in my direction. She got up from the stool she’d been perched on and sniffed me. She sniffed me.

“Is she human?” asked the woman.

“If you don’t mind, we need to go inside and speak with Alaric and Seraphine.”

The woman folded her arms, then shrugged. “I guess the Coldwells are going to stop having their fun with Lucian Undergrove back on the prowl, hm?”

Lucian looked like he didn’t want the woman to say anymore in front of me. He stiffly nodded, then pulled me inside.

“What did she mean?” I asked.

“It’s nothing.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Didn’t sound like nothing.”

He sighed. “The Coldwells were a particularly powerful clan who opposed something called The Pact. I was one of the vampires with the job of making sure they didn’t do too much damage. That’s all.”

“So do you get vampire paychecks?” I asked with a grin. “You said it was your job, so I’m assuming you have a boss?”

“That’s enough questions, Cara.”

Nope, I thought. It was probably never going to be enough questions to get me up to speed on all the weird rules and history of his world. But I’d learned he would answer my questions as long as I didn’t stack too many of them together all at once.

Lucian and I headed inside, and I was greeted with what was absolutely a bar full of vampires. They weren’t all beautiful, but even the more “normal” looking ones still carried a supreme air of confidence, as if they could snap their fingers and change the world, and they knew it. The dress code included slightly dated formal wear, extremely dated suits, fresh expensive designer dresses, and even old puffy ball gowns. It was like a choose your era costume party, but all the clothes were well-made and, I suspected, originals.

The music thumping through the air was modern and some of the people—the vampires—in the place were enjoying it as they danced. Most were crowded around tables speaking in low voices or enjoying drinks at the bar. It was normal, and completely abnormal at the same time.

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