Page 1 of Blood Sugar

Chapter 1

Dine and Dash

Sadie

He wasn’t the guy I was there to meet. According to my supernatural dating app, I was supposed to be looking for a blond werewolf named Buck. It was early, the sun barely set, but I’d been busy with job interviews the last few days and hadn’t fed at all.

All work and no blood makes Sadie a grumpy vampire.

But even my aching veins couldn’t dampen my mood. Smiling, I ran my fingers over my phone’s screen, tapping my pink manicure against the glass. The email saying I was hired glowed on the display, along with my reply of enthusiastic acceptance.

I was officially employed, and I was going to get a good meal. Things were finally looking up!

Buck wasn’t here yet. I’d been to this bar a few times since arriving in Pumpkin Hollow. It was dark, with heavy wood paneling and towering shelves behind the bar filled with bottles of various sizes and colors. They served beer in angular flagons and squat, golden candles glowed at each table.

This town really went all-out with the Halloween theme. It made sense, considering the population.

After I was turned, a half-fae friend told me about supernatural-friendly towns where most or all of the residents were some type of shifter, vampire, ghost, etc. Moving here was my second chance—a place where I could build a new life without fear of being found out and hunted by clueless humans.

Here, I could smile and no one batted an eyelash at my fangs.

My teeth ran over the points. It’d been six months, and they still felt strange in my mouth, but I didn’t hate them anymore. In fact, they were almost cute.

“Want anything, honey?” the bartender asked. Tapered ears peeked out from her cinnamon curls, but I wasn’t sure if she was fae or something else. This was all so new to me still.

“Just water, please,” I said. I was so grateful she was understanding and didn’t give me a hard time for not ordering alcohol.

When she slid a glass of ice water across the bartop, I handed her a couple of dollars in tip. I would run out of cash soon, but I had a job now, so it would be okay. Light, bubbly relief filled my chest, radiating out until my fingers tingled with it. I was going to be fine.

Condensation gathered on the glass, cold against my skin as I picked it up and sipped.

The bartender moved to the far end of the bar where a couple of guys were drinking and talking. The one with the mustache paid his bill and then slapped his friend on the back before leaving.

His friend rested his elbow on the bar and took a swig of his remaining drink. His messy hair, an inhuman shade of purple-red, fell across thick brows over warm, dark eyes. My gaze traced over his straight nose and lips—the bottom one fuller than the top. Stubble shaded his sharp jaw, the maroon tone contrasting with his tan skin.

My mouth went dry. He was painfully handsome.

Glass broke and I jerked in my seat, twisting to eye the bartender. She glared down at the shattered mug on the polished wood floor. With a grimace, she reached for the broom in the corner.

The man said something to her, too quiet for me to hear, and she smiled. He raised his hand, muttering a few words. The glass repaired itself, now sitting in a puddle of spilled cider.

Magic.

He was a witch.

“Thanks,” the bartender said, giving him a grateful smile before stooping to grab the mug and mopping up the spilled liquid. The witch shrugged like it was nothing, but he had a smug curve to his lips as he went back to his phone.

His jaw ticked as he typed out a text message and then flipped the device over onto the bartop. With a heaving sigh, he raked his hand through that vibrant hair like something was frustrating him. He only had an inch of his drink left, and the idea of him leaving made me frown, though I wasn’t sure why.

He looked stressed, with stiff posture and a tired slump to his shoulders. It didn’t take away from his good looks, and I found myself wanting to talk to him and hear what he was worrying about.

Something about him drew me in. I could help him forget his worries, at least for a while.

His large hands wrapped around his mug and lifted it for another sip. What else might he do with those hands? I was so damn hungry.

I might as well shoot my shot—no reason not to.

It wasn’t like I was jumping a stranger in an alley to suck their blood. I’d found most men around here didn’t mind being bit during a hookup. Supposedly, it felt good. And if he wasn’t interested in me, I’d wait for Buck.