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“Mistress Gabriella has made her point.” Stephen placed a hand on Malika’s shoulder, who jerked away from him with a scowl. If looks could kill, Gabby would be bleeding out on the ground right now. Felix’s gaze latched onto Malika, already plotting her death.
Stop.She shot him a quelling look. He swallowed the need to kill and forced his muscles to relax, one by one, forced his fingers to unclench.
The thought of his mate in danger, it was torture of the worst kind. Felix was torn in two, the need to ensure his mate’s safety warring against the man who recognized Gabby’s strength. The savage beast within him demanded he kidnap her and hide and guard her against all danger. Against the possibility of ever losing her again. But that would only backfire.
It was imperative he trusted her, believed in her, and not stash her away like a porcelain doll any time a threat appeared.
How? How did anyone do this? His admiration for Stephen shot through the roof. If someone had kidnapped Gabby to another continent, he would’ve burned down the country and never let Gabby out of his sight again.
When the meeting ended for a brief break, Felix shot to his feet. Between the lure of human blood and the tempting scent of Gabby’s, he couldn’t think. The more he contemplated treating Gabby as an equal, the stronger his bestial instincts bellowed.
He felt her eyes on him, but she said nothing. Just as well, he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to chat. If he stayed, he might do something he’d regret.
Chapter Twelve
FelixexitedtheCentralTower to be alone with his thoughts and to feed. He could have asked Tristan to send one of the human feeders, humans who provided fresh blood to vampires for a handsome salary. They were under the direct protection of the Head of the House, or in Vegas’ case, Julian. Strict rules ensured the feeders’ safety, such as only providing blood at most three times a week and no consecutive days of feeding. Any vampire who mistreated or harmed the humans faced the full wrath of Julian or the Head of the House.
Once outside, the fresh air helped clear his head. Though his kind didn’t need to breathe, it was habit, and a pretense most vampires kept up even today. They could stop breathing all together, but even Felix, at his age, found it uncomfortable.
Sometime habits weren’t worth the effort to break.
Then there were those you had to break, or risk losing the most important thing in your life.
Felix scrubbed a hand down his face, uncertainty squirming through his insides. If he were human, he might get one of those anxiety ulcers he’d seen on TV. For the first time in a thousand years, he was at a loss.
He could screw everything he’d learned or seen in the last two days and continue with his plan to kidnap Gabby, and then what? Convince her it was for her own good?
That hadn’t worked six hundred years ago. It definitely wouldn’t work now.
His feet took him past wide, cobbled sidewalks near the Central Tower to a few blocks away, where restaurants and bars lined the street. It wasn’t quite the Entertainment district where the most famous bars and clubs operated, but it would have to do.
What would Gabby do if he kidnapped her? Would she stab him and slaughter her way out of Eden? Would she unleash the ruthless vampire he’d caught a hint of when she’d had the dagger to his throat?
His vampire cackled with glee at the thought, eager to tangle with a worthy opponent.
Absentmindedly, Felix scanned the surrounding humans until he found a clean one who didn’t smell of alcohol or drugs or disease, a rare find in Vegas.
He merged into the shadows in the alley next to the restaurant and beckoned her. She sauntered over, her eyes glazed, until Felix released her from his thrall. When she saw him, there was a flash of fear before arousal and feminine interest lit her eyes.
Felix smiled, letting the magnetic and sexual pull of the vampire surround them. The woman’s arousal permeated the air as she licked her lips.
“Your wrist, please,” he crooned.
The woman held out her arm. “Do you want it from the neck?” Desire deepened her voice to a soft purr. Her lust meant nothing to Felix, a byproduct of the vampire’s power. Hunting was easier when the prey was more pliant.
There was only one woman he wanted, only one who elicited any true sexual need from him.
Felix bit down and groaned at the taste of warm, coppery blood, of health and youth and sex. There was something about blood straight from the vein even the best bottled blood failed to imitate. Felix restrained the natural sexual response from feeding. He wanted nothing from the woman other than her blood.
His already supernatural senses sharpened even further. Strength flooded through him, and his hand reacted on reflex at a disturbance in the air.
He caught the dagger’s hilt with its tip inches from his throat.
Felix finished his feeding with leisure and licked close the woman’s wounds. If his attacker had truly meant him harm, it would’ve taken more than one steel dagger.
Caught in the feeding’s sensual rapture, the woman hadn’t even noticed the weapon.
“Thank you. You may go now,” Felix coaxed.
