Page 31 of Nosfer-Meet You

I look back at the screen to catch a glimpse of the movie monster stalking its prey. Scotty runs his hand up and down my arm and whispers in my ear, “I heard a rumor. Just some gossip. There’s a lagoon monster like this one right here in Mystella.”

I let out a snort. “There are no such things. They are not real, Scotty.”

He peers down at me. I cannot read his expression. His lips curl into a half smile, half grimace, and he squints.

“What?” I ask, blinking.

Scotty speaks in the worst mock-French accent I have ever heard in my life. “Zey ahre not reál. Zey ahre just storiés.”

I frown. “They are. And don’t make fun of my accent or I will have to start mocking yours.”

“I’d love to see you try, love. And you really have no room to talk, little miss folk tale,” he says. “You’re not supposed to exist, either. We were told stories in our covens about the Nosferatu, a secret sect of vampires who were created by drinking the blood of Kasha the Naga Goddess.” He wiggles his fingers in my face. “Oooh, scary.”

“Yes. And it is true. We were originally created from her blood as retaliation for her murder.”

“So, then what makes you think the lagoon monster doesn’t exist?” he asks.

I bite my bottom lip. “You are annoying.”

He leans down to press his nose against my forehead, nuzzling it, and suddenly I am acutely aware of my every nerve ending, my every cell. My entire body tenses, unused to physical affection, if that’s what this truly is. Unused to a touch that doesn’t hurt, doesn’t make me want to scream, doesn’t make me want to tear myself apart with my own claws.

Whatever this is, it feels … correct.

“Yeah, but just because I’m annoying doesn’t mean I’m not right,” he whispers in my ear. A new feeling suddenly floods my senses, overriding my judgment. My body awakens for the first time, and now all I can think about is Scotty. Scotty without his clothes on. Scotty between my legs, soothing the ache that I cannot reach myself because it is buried deep within my soul.

This madness … it is a craving.

Before I can get swept away in the madness, I recoil from his grasp and punch him in the shoulder. “Enough. Tell me the rest of your sad story so we can go find someone to eat. The night is young, but at this rate, we will go to sleep starving.”

Scotty stares down at me, his expression blank and unreadable again. He rubs the spot on his arm that I hit, and for a second, I feel guilty for my reaction. Perhaps I was too harsh with him. But in typical Scotty fashion, he simply smiles at me as though I just told the world’s funniest joke.

“What?” I narrow my eyes at him, simultaneously wanting to run away and kiss every inch of his bare skin.

His eyes shift from red to a deep azure, and a strange haze clouds them. One I haven’t seen before. A look of hunger, yes, but not for blood.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, leaning in closer until his lips are practically brushing against mine. “I would just really like to kiss you right now, Jules.”

I swallow thickly. Oh, gods. Why does he want to kiss me? Doesn’t he know what I am? What I look like? Why would he want to⁠—

“May I? Kiss you, that is,” he whispers, and his eyelashes flutter like curtains in a breeze. His eyes … he has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen on a man. Every girl in my village would have killed to have those eyelashes.

Before I have time to even think about the consequences, I blurt out, “Please.”

His lips are on mine in an instant, and every single thought still rattling around inside my skull dissolves. Though I may have forgotten what it felt like to have a man’s lips on mine, my fingers, at least, remember what to do. They run through Scotty’s hair, groping for purchase. Scotty groans from my needy movements. My greedy grabbing of his hair. The way I deepen the kiss with my tongue until the ache between my legs becomes unbearable.

Oh, to have his lips and tongue between my legs. If only I could go back in time. Back to the stables when the boy who worked in them would visit me during those sweltering summer afternoons. He’d press my back into the yellow straw and bury himself deep, drawing out the gasps and moans from my lips like a compulsion.

I would do anything to be under Scotty’s compulsion now. A vampire his age could never, should never, be able to enthrall me. And yet.

Oh, and yet.

“Scotty,” I moan against his chapped lips. He brushes his thumbs across my face, tracing my cheekbones like he’s trying to draw himself a memory. “I need you to touch me.”

Scotty snickers softly before kissing my forehead. “I am touching you, silly.”

“No,” I say too quickly, and snatch his wrists in my hands. His eyes widen. Not out of concern but curiosity. He tilts his head and smiles. “Not like this. I need more.”

Scotty nods in understanding, and he pushes me back against the grassy knoll. Fortunately, the cloak of darkness gives us a layer of privacy against any potential prying eyes. But the couples in the cars pay us no mind anyway, too fixated on the movie screen or their own dates. His fingers travel along my navel, dancing across my skin. I let out a soft sigh, and he smiles at me again with his dog-like exuberance.