Page 69
Callan quirked a brow. “Fate is not biased. My, you witches really are too naïve for your own good.”
I scoffed. “No one would willingly let a vampire feed off them.”
Callan’s pale hand rose to his chin. He lightly scraped his thumb over his jaw. “You would be surprised. Even humans offer themselves up once they realize the benefits.”
“How, when vampires don’t exist in their world?”
“Don’t they?”
That halted my words. Was there another side of Cutters Cove I wasn’t aware of? Where humans knew vampires existed? I didn’t believe it, let alone entertain the thought any further.
“Fuck that. It’s not an option,” I said, leveling with him.
This time Callan let out a loud laugh. “Then I suggest you find out if the roots from the botanical can be salvaged. Because, my young man, and I say that with 500 years more life experience than yourself. If you do not wish to enter our world, that botanical is your only option.”
He stared me dead in the eyes, laying my options out before me in an icy shortlist.
Fuck. I nodded once. Draining the rest of my whiskey, I rose from my armchair. Another moan from the living room sounded. This one was lighter than the last, bordering on a plea.
I needed to get the fuck out of here, now.
Turning on my heel, Callan’s presence followed me to the front door.
“You know, if I could take it back, I would,” Callan said somewhat earnestly.
I steeled my gaze back at him. For the first time that evening, Callan looked every one of his five hundred years.
He continued. “Ava. You.”
Ava’s name punched every ounce of warmth from the room. He had killed her in a moment when he was not in control of his bloodlust. When he’d gone rogue. Callan was lucky both Ty and I hadn’t fucking killed him. Fortunately, we both knew the real Callan. And the vampire who stood before me right now was not the same man who had killed so recklessly years ago. It had taken Ty a long time to come to terms with this, and to this day, he kept his encounters with Callan minimal.
“If I turn, I’ll rip your throat out,” I warned.
Callan chuckled, a quiet rumble from deep within his chest. “Heart, youngling. You rip out the heart.”
***
Something in the air tonight bled into my nerves. Like a knowing, or a feeling lying in wait. I felt it everywhere, in my veins, in my gut. I just didn’t know what the fuck it was.
Shaking away the feeling, I ignored it.
Looking over to the booths lining the far wall for what seemed like the hundredth time in the space of ten minutes, I found Scar. She looked stunning tonight, and, as she chatted to Morgan, I couldn’t help but smile. It was nice to finally, openly, check her out in public, something I’d never let myself do prior to knowing she was my fated mate. The words seemed unbelievable after all this time. I didn’t understand why it had taken so long to get to this point, but I wasn’t about to question it. The feeling of the mate bond had me in a chokehold. Like it had slammed the back of my knees and sent me to the ground. Permanently. I would do anything for her and had come to terms with the fact that I was completely and utterly smitten.
“Hey, stranger.”
A stupid grin plastered on my face as she approached, placing her empty glass on the bar. “Hey yourself. Having a good night?”
She gave me a sultry look. “Always. Had my eye on someone from across the bar.”
I made a show of looking behind me, then along the bar leaner. “Oh, yeah?”
Her eyes danced with a teasing spark. “Yeah. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. Reckon I might lure him into a dark corner at some point tonight.”
My smile grew wider. “Oh yeah? I know of a storeroom that may or may not be just what you’re looking for.”
Her teeth dug into her bottom lip. “And where would I find this storeroom?”
My gaze veered to a door off to one side, nearer to the bathrooms.
