Page 12 of Fangbanger

The vampire is begging to be stabbed.

“You started it.” I shrug and focus on removing my teabag from my mug, but my back is tense and my gaze flicks up to his as he watches.

His pupils expand like he’s imagining biting me, and a muscle jumps low in my abdomen. I scowl. I don’t actually want it, but I have wondered.

I assume every slayer has wondered, though I personally blame Karina for planting those images in my head, for obsessing over the porn she found where the vampires do more biting than fucking. None of their partners ever seem to mind, and I found myself on edge after peeking at the link.

I take deep inhales through my nose, willing myself to keep my heartbeat slow. I might taste like dirty dishwater to him, but I also would prefer not to seem like prey.

“You’re like a twitchy little rabbit,” he says idly.

“And you’re not what I expected.”

His uncanny eyes are assessing. “Been up close with many vampires, have you?”

Starting at age eight, I want to say, but the words dry up in my throat and my gaze jerks away from him. The emotions I’ve been avoiding roll over me with the force of a crashing wave. The rawness of my soul is too exposed under his silver gaze.

I focus on bandaging my hand, wrapping the wound tightly and tying it off. I tuck in the edges across my palm, fighting the rising choking sensation in my throat. Every breath feels like nails are puncturing my lungs. My organs feel like they are too small, and I can’t fucking get this bandage⁠—

My scissors clatter to the table. I jolt, then squeeze my eyes shut. Get over it, Leah. Keep going. I’ve made a life of that motto. I take deep inhales and exhales that make tears gather at the edges of my lashes from how my cracked ribs expand.

I blink away the pain before I push the bandages toward Marcus. He’s bleeding from the wound in his chest, a slow, sluggish stream, and he’s shifting like he aches.

It’s more peace offering than necessity.

He makes no move to take a bandage, instead watching me as I swipe at a cut on my arm. My shoulders stiffen. I have had it. I am exhausted. I hurt everywhere. I want to lick my wounds and process the last four hours of my life. I want to curl up in a hot bath and then bed, not force my sleep-deprived brain into a bargain with him.

“Take a bandage.”

“I’ll heal.” He seems unconcerned by his injuries, instead watching me with the predatory intent of a hawk.

I roll my shoulders. “You make me nervous, vampire. I don’t trust you.”

“Regrettably, we will have to trust each other.” He makes the word sound like poison.

I scowl. “Let’s start with the basics. Why do you want to kill your brother?” I force my shoulders to lower. Being in his presence is deeply unsettling. I’ve invited a monster into my home, and oh look, he’s staying for tea. Right before he rips out my throat.

“He needs to die.”

He sounds heartlessly determined to murder a family member. I can’t imagine what that would be like. I’ve cherished the family members I’ve had.

“Gonna need more than that, vampire.”

He runs his tongue over one fang. “My brother is…broken.” His gaze goes over my shoulder. “He lost his fated mate before he could complete the bond, and since then, he’s been on a killing spree the likes of which the vampire world has never known. He is likely the vampire your parents were tracking. I am honor-bound to dispatch him. He needs to die after the pain he’s caused.” The final words are growled. Marcus’s eerie eyes flicker silver-gray to black and back again.

I shiver. Killing spree. The words remind me of the blood-drenched days of my childhood. “I want the kill.”

Marcus raises a single brow. “No.”

I press my palms to the table and lean forward. I’m nearly trembling. “You owe me the kill. I want it.”

“I owe you nothing,” he growls. “You risked my life with an unknown spell. You stabbed me. You are a distraction.” His fangs flash.

My fingers tense, ready to grab my blade. I am eager to make something of the emotion roiling inside me. “They were my family. They died in front of me.” I snap my mouth shut before more of my messy feelings can escape.

His gaze tracks over my face, down to where the bones stand out against my skin. I hate him so much it steals my breath. He is so much stronger, so much more experienced. And now he has the one thing I want more than anything—the key to avenging my parents.

“You cannot kill him alone.” He holds up a hand. “He is mad, you reckless slayer. He drains humans to the point of death. He is stronger than I am. He can daywalk. You risk your life.”