Page 20 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

Even his growl.

CHAPTER 6

We had barely moved deeper into the corridor when the sound of hurried footsteps came from behind us—light, rapid, the distinct cadence of another overeager fledgling who hadn’t yet learned the meaning of caution.

I closed my eyes briefly and sighed. Not again.

Before I could turn, a young man came rushing around the corner, nearly colliding with me in his haste. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his features still holding that lingering softness of youth. His hair was a tousled mess of dark curls, and his shirt was half-buttoned, as if he’d thrown it on in a hurry.

“Cassara!” he said, his eyes lighting up with unmistakable excitement. “I just heard you were here. Can we⁠—”

He didn’t finish.

Con moved faster than air. One moment the boy was speaking, the next he was slammed hard against the stone wall, the impact echoing through the corridor like a gunshot.

The young vampire gasped, fangs flashing reflexively in shock. Con’s forearm was pressed across his chest, pinning him effortlessly, his other hand gripping the front of the fledgling’s jacket. The golden light in his eyes had flared into something feral—cold and ancient, the look of a predator whose patience had finally run dry.

“If one more male asks for private time with Cassara,” Con said, his voice low and lethal, “I will flay them.”

The fledgling’s mouth opened, a stammer dying in his throat as Con leaned in closer.

“Do you know,” Con continued softly, almost conversationally, “how long it takes a vampire to regrow his skin?”

The boy’s eyes widened, pupils blown in pure terror. He shook his head frantically.

“I do,” Con said. “Weeks. Painful ones.”

I stepped forward, my voice serious. “Constantine.”

He didn’t look at me at first, his attention still fixed on the trembling fledgling. For a heartbeat, I wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard me. The air had shifted—thick with his aura, an oppressive heat that made the shadows crawl away from him.

“Con,” I said again, more firmly this time.

His eyes flicked toward me then—still molten, still wild—but something in my expression must have reached him. He exhaled once, slow and controlled, and released his grip.

The fledgling stumbled back, clutching his chest, too terrified to speak. His mouth opened soundlessly, but whatever apology he meant to stammer out was lost.

“Get out of my sight,” Con said quietly.

That was all it took. The young man bolted down the hall so fast his footsteps blurred into silence, the echo fading into the stairwell.

For a moment, the only sound left was the soft hiss of the sconces along the wall.

I turned to Con, my pulse still thrumming. “You can’t keep doing that,” I said, though my tone came out gentler than I intended. “They’re fledglings by our standards.”

His jaw tightened. “They need to learn respect.”

“Fear isn’t the same thing.”

He met my gaze then, and the feral light in his eyes dimmed just enough to reveal something else beneath it—something rawer. “You think I don’t know that?” he said quietly. “But they don’t see you the way I do, Cass. They don’t understand what you’ve done for this clan. They see a story. A legend. Something they can chase.”

His words caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to sound almost… wounded.

I took a slow breath, letting some of my own tension ease. “You don’t have to protect me from admiration.”

His mouth curved, not quite a smile. “It’s not their admiration that worries me.”

The quiet that ensued was heavy but not hostile. The flicker of candlelight brushed over his face, tracing the hard lines of his jaw, the restrained strength in his posture. I could still feel the echo of his fury in the air, like static clinging to my skin.