Page 5 of Bleed

The doors unlock with a soft click as I approach, the streetlights glinting off my slim platinum Bite bracelet as I reach for the handle.

All donors wear them. There’s a tracking chip inside so Bite can keep tabs on us during engagements, plus clients can scan the bracelet with their phones to pull up our profiles. That feature is mostly used at donor galas, where we can be bitten by multiple vampires throughout the night, but I’ve had a few clients scan mine when I arrive just to make sure I am who I say I am. Given the less-than-legal nature of this whole business, I suppose nobody can be too careful.

I pull open the car door, sliding into the back seat like I’ve done this a hundred times before. Because I have.

I’ve rapidly become one of Bite’s top donors, accepting multiple requests each week from vamps eager to pay for the pleasure of my company. Some just want to bite me. Others want more. I’m fine with either, as long as the price is right.

“Evening,” I greet cheerfully, settling into the soft leather of the back seat.

The driver gives a short nod in return, briefly meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror before blushing and dropping his gaze. He’s young, clean-cut, and adorably shy. I don’t recognize him, so he must be new.

“Bill, right?” I ask, defaulting to the name I call all the drivers who refuse to speak. I’m pretty sure part of their job description is not interacting with donors, but I’m not a fan of riding in silence.

Of course, he doesn’t respond.

My grin only widens.

God, I love a challenge.

I bite back a smile, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing my dress down over my tan thighs. “How’s your night going?” I press, leaning forward so he can see me clearly in the rearview mirror.

Men are easy. Most of them stop thinking the second a pretty girl gives them attention, and I learned a long time ago how to weaponize that to my advantage.

His eyes flick up briefly, his jaw tightening. Then he refocuses on the street ahead, pulling away from the curb smoothly.

I let a whole two blocks pass before I try again.

“Are you new, or have you been doing the whole mysterious chauffeur thing for a while?” I ask, keeping my tone light.

Nothing.

“Your commitment to the bit is impressive, but I’ve cracked tougher cases than you, Billy boy,” I say with a chuckle.

Another beat passes, then he finally caves.

“It’s Matt.”

“Ooh,” I tease, catching his eyes in the mirror and beaming a grin. “He speaks”.

The corner of his mouth twitches upward. Victory.

“So, Matt,” I sigh, settling back against the seat. “What’s a nice boy like you doing working for an underground blood agency?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he murmurs.

“Well, I’m not a boy. And I’m definitely not nice.”

He glances back at me again, color rising to his cheeks. “Well… you look nice.”

“Aww, thanks,” I chirp, flashing him another smile. “You’re sweet.”

The rest of the ride passes easily after that. We chat about how much city traffic sucks, discuss the promise of warmer weather in the forecast, and then we arrive at our destination. Matt pulls the car up in front of a glittering high-rise, shifting the gear into park and glancing back at me over his shoulder.

“See you in a bit,” I purr, tossing him a wink before reaching for the door handle.

“I’ll be waiting,” he replies with a shy smile.

I climb out of the back seat, knocking the door closed with a hip and starting for the glass double-doors at the front of the building.