Page 33 of Nosfer-Meet You

“Have you fallen on your head when I wasn’t looking?” I tease, lightly swatting his chest. “Because you know what I look like. The last man I slept with was when I was still a human.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah. I’m not blind, Jules. I see you. I see all of you. What’s the problem?”

I blink slowly. “I … I’m ugly, Scotty. That is the problem.”

“According to who, exactly?” His brows knit together, like he’s trying to solve a difficult problem. Or maybe he’s angry with me? “Because I know you’re going to say ‘to everyone,’ but that’s a bunch of shite. You’re cute, Juli.”

“Maybe when I was a human, but no one told me I was particularly handsome when I was alive, either, because⁠—”

He places a fingertip on my lips again, silencing me. “Shh. Sorry, sweetheart, but that’s not exactly your call to make, is it? You’re beautiful. And you’re just going to have to deal with me having a different opinion than you.”

If I could blush right now, I’d die from the embarrassment. But instead, I avert my gaze. I look up at the stars, and then … and then I feel the stinging behind my eyes. No, no, no. Don’t cry. Not now, you silly old thing. To be this sentimental just because a man called me beautiful!

I jerk my head back to meet his gaze, then clear my throat. “Tell me more of your story. I want to know what happened after the frenzy.”

He sighs. “Really? You suck at taking compliments, by the way.” A flash of his fangs, and I can’t help but smile back.

“I know. But I really do want to hear the rest of your story. Please. Humor me.” I melt against his chest thanks to the delicious orgasm. Something I haven’t experienced in … far too long. It will be easier for me to simply listen to Scotty right now.

“Yeah, right, so, we can skip over the parts where I took that job at Fletcher and Sons, right? Because it’s boooooring as fuck,” he says. “You don’t want to hear me drone on about sorting mail. But I did take that job, and it was a good thing for me. Well, until it wasn’t…”

Chapter 18

Scotty

HAPPY NEW YEAR

NEW YORK CITY DECEMBER 31ST, 1999

The turn of the new millennium has the humans spooked. I mean, they’ve been losing their fuckin’ shite thinking that because their tech can’t go up to the year 2000, everything will shut down and it’ll be the end of the world. Airplanes will suddenly fall out of the sky! Nuclear plants will go into chaos! Power grids will fail!

So that means when I wake up on New Year’s Eve to an empty apartment, all I can think about is making sure Harriett stays indoors. I’ll bring her some blood bags to snack on, and we’ll watch the ball in Times Square drop, as usual. Marcus and Ava already have plans to go out in search of Y2K parties, because humans with nothing to lose are easy meals. I think most vampires have the same idea.

Except for me and Eli, of course.

Since it’s a holiday, Eli’s given me the night off, but I’ll be expected back at the office tomorrow evening. New Year’s Day is only a holiday for humans, and I’ll be sleeping through it anyway.

I roll off the couch and make my way over to my fridge and open it … only to find that my last packet of O-Positive’s been eaten. I glare at it, then slam the door shut. “Who the hell drank my blood?” I mutter.

“Sorry, mate,” Marcus calls from the bathroom. The toilet flushes, and he walks into the living room wearing a fuzzy robe that I most definitely do not own and holding an empty packet of blood. He tosses it at me, and I catch it with one hand. “I got the munchies last night. Me and Sapphire were up late again, and I promised to get her home safe. And then one thing led to another, and I smoked a bowl, and before I knew it … yeah. Snack attack. I’ll get you fresh later, promise.”

I continue glaring at him. “Why are you dressed like that? Wait. No, more importantly, why did I hear the toilet flush?”

We don’t have to use the toilet, thanks to not having a working digestive system. But our other systems work just fine. Ugh.

I let out a deep sigh and drag a palm down my face. “Did you seriously just have a wank in my bathroom? Why, Marcus? And why do I tolerate you?”

Marcus hobbles over to the sofa and sits down. And that’s when I notice his bare ass cheeks are touching my sofa cushions. I grab a glass from one of the cabinets, fill it with water from the faucet, then throw it in his face before he has a chance to react. He lets out a yelp and jumps to his feet.

“Gedda fook off me couch wid ya mucky-as-owt flesh on me furniture.” I yell. “Are ya soft in de ’ead?!”

Marcus stares me down. “Was any of that actually English?”

“All of it,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “Now, answer my questions. Why were you using my bathroom and eating my food? And why are you dressed like that?”

“It’s Sapphire’s,” Marcus explains, as if I’m supposed to know who that is. “The girl we met at the strip club a few weeks ago?”

I roll my eyes. “I didn’t go, remember? You went with Ava.”