1
Viktor sank his teeth deep into the sweet, fleshy thigh. A cry of ecstasy brought pleasure to his ears as her life essence flowed down his throat. Ah, so difficult to stop, the urge to drink every last drop always present, but he never gave in to the temptation.
As his tongue brushed over the bite, her fingernails dug deeper into his shoulder, delivering a sweet balance of pain to his pleasure. It was at this point in the feeding he’d normally slam his cock into his donor, bringing them to a new level of heaven, but as he licked his lips a cold chill ran through him.
“Master, please,” the naked blonde pleaded, writhing on her back.
“Off with you,” he growled, adjusting his erection.
“I can’t—” she moaned.
“Sorry, pet, but I’ve got business to attend to,” he lied.
“But I don’t want to stop,” she whined, her legs splayed wide open on the sofa.
“Most delicious, but as I’ve said, got to run.” Without hesitation, he shoved away and buttoned his dress shirt, readying to leave.
A desperate moan escaped her lips as she reluctantly gathered her clothes. With a sexy smile, Viktor waved a dismissive hand and disappeared through a crimson, beaded curtain. He brushed away the glass baubles and stepped into the smoke-laden club.
Through the din of the music and rumble of conversation, the tremors of fear from a female drew his attention. He homed in on a darkened corner where a petite blonde violently tugged her arm away from a tall, pale vampire.
“I’m not a donor. I just told you why I’m here. I’m looking for a friend.” Her eyes flashed in defiance. She stood firm, not backing away.
“Came here for what?” the male growled, releasing his fangs.
“A friend. The bartender said you knew her.” She glanced to the burly man behind the bar who shot her a creepy smile.
“Women,” the vampire sniffed. “You don’t know what you want or why you’re here. Come to me, little princess. I will show you the pleasure of the darkness.”
Viktor rolled his eyes. Cliché. The dude went full out vamp on her, but she made no move to run. As he watched her stand strong, staring the vampire down, he couldn’t decide if she was brave or simply had a death wish.
Ah, humans. They’re such interesting creatures, he mused.
Viktor studied her defiance. With determination in her eyes, she lifted her chin, her fingernails digging into her leather purse. Courage laced with a healthy dose of humility was always the sign of a warrior. The beast could shred her within seconds, and something told him she knew full well what the monster in front of her could do. Whatever or whoever she was here for must be seriously important to her, for her to risk her own life.
Viktor contemplated whether or not to get involved. Perhaps she deserved the consequences of her actions. Humans who came to a seedy blood club should know the score. It wasn’t his responsibility. Stopping in for a nip of blood had been an impulse, a reprieve from his pain-in-the-ass chore of playing daddy to the wolfman.
He didn’t even know the human. It was none of his business. Don’t do it, Vik. Not your problem.
But as he caught the flicker of rage in the vampire’s eyes, the decision was made. Time to save the world again.
Viktor flashed in between the blonde and the thug, glancing at a speck of dirt embedded into his thousand-dollar Dolce & Gabbana derby shoes. Oh, for fuck’s sake. This is exactly why I don’t slum it.
“This doesn’t concern you,” the vampire snarled, spit flying. His enunciated speech, spoken in a rhythmic staccato, reminded Viktor of a vampire he’d met once in Saint-Tropez. Viktor’s lips drew tight into an icy smile, his eyes cold and dark.
“As much as I’m enjoying this little tête-à-tête, this darling little sprite belongs to me. Now, lovey. You mustn’t run off on me.” Viktor looked to the woman, whose anger radiated off her like wildfire. Detecting the slightest air of arousal, he shot her a sexy smile and winked at her, then quickly focused back on the vampire.
“She didn’t mention you. Claimed she’s looking for a friend. Now which is it?” The vampire bared his teeth with a low growl.
“She’s mine. So it doesn’t quite really matter, does it?” As he spoke, the voice in the back of his head warned his words would haunt him.
“I’ll have a quick taste, and you can have seconds.”
Viktor glanced to the woman. “He’s small dick energy. I promise you won’t have that problem with me, pet.”
“I saw her first.” His face reddened as he pumped his fingers, readying to fight.
“She. Is. Mine,” Viktor repeated, his voice calm. He briefly touched her shoulder. “Off you go, pet.”
“But I—” she began but Viktor promptly interrupted.
“No need for you to be here for this unpleasantry.”
“But I….” Her words failed her as Viktor dropped his fangs.
“I said, out!” Viktor growled and whipped his attention to the vampire, wrapping his fingers around his neck.
“Who do you think you are?” He gasped for breath, struggling to break free.
“Master Christianson.” Viktor gave a cool smile. He always enjoyed this part.
Silence engulfed the room, the jazz band in the corner easing down their instruments. Every single creature in the club froze. “The human belongs to me.”
“But she’s nothing. A blood bag, you piece of shit. This is her fau—”
Without warning, Viktor crushed the vampire’s throat with his bare hands. The head dangled from its neck as blood sprayed onto the crowd, eliciting screams of shock from the humans.
“I do believe it’s been a while since I’ve been to this dump. I regret you’ve all forgotten who I am. It appears you need a reminder. Tell your friends.” Viktor threw the body to the floor and stepped over a puddle of blood. “The girl. No one is to ever touch her again, am I clear?”
Viktor didn’t bother waiting for a response as he strode toward the door, stopping at the maître d’.
“Who’s the human?” A waitress dressed in black latex appeared and handed him a bar towel, quickly scurrying away into the smoky room.
“Um, sir. She’s new. Let me just check the register of new donors.” He nervously ruffled through stacks of paper on his podium. “I’m sorry sir. We don’t use computers here. Just a minute, I know I have it somewhere.”
Viktor’s jaw ticked in annoyance as he impatiently waited. Papers spilled onto the floor, drawing his attention to his own blood-splattered shoes. Fucking hell.
“What’s a girl like her doing in a place like this, anyway?” She’d been wearing Vans and a pair of faded jeans, her hair in a messy bun. She wasn’t a typical Miami club scene girl, let alone the typical blood donor. Surfer maybe? Yogi, he’d guess. Something about her didn’t quite fit the Miami vibe. No, California. Definitely California. Now what was she doing in a Miami blood club?
“We get all kinds, sir. The vampires prefer different donors. All ages, races, genders. We generally cater to the more economical price point, shall we say but…”
“She didn’t belong here.”