Page 24 of The Temptation of Roan Island

“Alright, that will be enough for now.” Inspector Ricin stands abruptly as if his seat is on fire. “Thank you for your cooperation.” He nods once at me, then looks at Ruby. “Where can we find the rest of the household, Mrs. Roan?”

Her smile is innocuous, belying nothing about the new moon party. “I believe you know the answer to that question, Inspector.”

His features pinch together, and he clears his throat. “Yes, well, where exactly is the party tonight?”

Ruby looks at me as if checking to see if I’m okay. When I nod and yawn, she takes Lucy’s hand in hers. “Allow me to show you the way.”

They’ve barely left before my heavy eyes close, and I fall into a haunted sleep.

12

SHEMAIAH

Tonight’s new moon party is less chaotic and more hidden than normal. Rather than a swirl of dancing couples and revealed flesh, most of the guests move behind the hanging tapestries in small clusters. A string quartet is stationed at the end of the hall. If I didn’t know exactly what’s happening behind the fabric overhangs, I’d almost say this party is tasteful, thanks to Ruby’s influence along with the inspector’s presence.

I’ve eaten my full share, maybe enough to fill the lake two times over. I should feel settled, but I can’t seem to convince the rest of my body to be quenched. I want something. My instinct to hunt burns through me, incinerating the satisfaction, igniting the insatiable need to feed, to fuck.

When Letty Lourx finds me, I immediately accept her advances and lead her behind a tapestry. It doesn’t matter that I’ve already taken from Mrs. Kinny, Mrs. Frellman, and Kendra Hawkes. It isn’t blood I’m after now.

Letty is older, experienced, and newly widowed. She came to her first new moon party three months ago, and I craved her, but she spent the night with Jafeth. Last month, she wasn’t invited as Noah opted to keep the numbers small following Hammish’s demise.

Letty Lourx is just what I need.

I sit on a bench and point to the floor at my feet, but the moment she drops to her knees it feels wrong. Too much like my father, who always preferred to take rather than give. As she unclasps the button on my pants, my stomach sours. When her hands brush over me, I’m flaccid.

“Come here.” I tug her up to straddle me. I’ve always enjoyed a woman riding my lap, the unhindered view of breasts in my face while she takes her pleasure, driving the show, getting just what she wants. This is what I need. Nothing like my father.

I lean back, and she undoes the top of her dress. Large breasts break free from their confines, capped by pert little nipples. An image flashes in my mind. Pippa. What color are her nipples? Are they large or small? Would they pucker for me?

My cock twitches.

Letty kisses along my neck, her hands working their way down between us. We’re so close to one another I can taste her rosehip scent on my tongue and find myself wishing for something different. I shake my head and hold my breath, staring straight ahead at the Mavarri tapestry depicting a victory celebration after some war, the caricatures woven in sexual poses. I need this. It doesn’t matter that Letty doesn’t smell like citrus and sunshine, like fresh rain and soured hope. I’m not after blood. I’m after pleasure.

She curls her hand under the waistband of my undergarments, knuckles brushing sensitive skin, but still my cock is only half hard. If even that.

It’s just the stress of the day. The inspector. Mrs. Darning’s peculiar behavior. Pippa passing out.

Pippa. She was so frail when I pulled her into my arms. The desire to go check on her hits like a wave that almost pulls me under. What the hell is wrong with me? I have a beautiful woman in my lap, and all I can think about is the woman upstairs who plays the piano poorly and who smiled so tenderly when her eyes fluttered open to see my face.

Letty takes my cock in her hand. My very limp cock. Fuck!

I push her away and stand so quickly she falls on her lush backside. I wince. “Forgive me.” I offer my hand.

“Is it me?” Letty’s brows wrinkle for a moment, but the concern vanishes when I help her to her feet and she loses her balance, falling against me, hands splayed wide over my chest. She giggles and tries to kiss me, but I turn my head so she gets my cheek.

“It isn’t you.” I extract myself from her hold. She looks down, a pitiful frown twisting her face. I should just feed from her. At least then she wouldn’t feel rejected. But I’m already full. Well, full and not full. I straighten my jacket. “Give me your wrist.”

Holding my breath, I sink my fangs into her blue veins and release my venom as I drink. Her taste is delightfully sweet, but like every other drop of blood tonight, it does nothing to quench my thirst. My stomach rolls, threatening to return the blood I’ve gorged myself on. It all tastes the same, feels the same.

I don’t want cloying rosehips. I want orange blossoms and… Fuck! Stop thinking of Pippa fucking Willoughby!

Letty moans just as Jafeth steps around the heavy tapestry.

“Ah, here’s where you’ve… come,” he says with a knowing smirk. He would never let me live it down if he knew how wrong he is.

“Oh god, yes,” Letty moans, expression glazed from the euphoria of venom. “Two of you.”

I wipe the blood dribbling from my mouth with the pad of my thumb and address my brother. “What is it?”