I shouldn’t have been upset—this was minor in the scheme of things and all I’d faced so far—but I knew I wasn’t going to find another man like Remo. One who knew when to let me fight my own battles, who let me make my own mistakes and respected me enough to let me find my own way. A man who didn’t even push me into having sex, though we’d come close, each of our own accord.
“Just like that?” I was proud of how my words came out without trembling. Without a single sobbing quiver, no matter what my emotions were doing to me on the inside.
His eyes hardened ever so slightly. “You forget that I am not like you. I’m not designed to be monogamous; no vampire is. Do you really think you’ve been the only woman in my arms the last few weeks?”
Lies. I could almost taste the lie on the air and had to fight not to flick my tongue out to confirm the scent of it. But if he wanted the lie to make himself feel better, then there was nothing I could do about it.
“Oh, you didn’t just do that, you idiot,” Ernie muttered from the ceiling above us. I didn’t look at him. I kept my eyes on Remo, because I knew this would be the last time I saw him.
There would be no going back after this.
The vampire mob boss stood, his whole body tense to the point that I could feel the irritation rolling off him, the heightened adrenaline and emotions strong between us. My own skin quivered, sensitive to all the tension he threw off. It twitched like mad in response.
“We have a business arrangement still,” he said. “You owe me two more feedings at my discretion for helping you, as per our agreement. If you’ll step outside, I’ll take one now. I’ll give you a few minutes to collect yourself. Don’t make me come back in for you.”
I flattened both my hands on the table and forced myself to raise an eyebrow. I would not let him see me cry over him. If he could be unaffected by this, then I could be too. “I don’t go back on my word, and that you think I would do that is insulting.”
His eyes softened, and I thought he’d say something, but he spun and walked away. I watched him go, unable to take my gaze from his retreating back, from the shape of his broad shoulders to the narrowed taper of his hips.
“Ernie,” I said.
“Yeah.” He floated down. “I got nothing for you. I thought he was going to go to bat for you, stand up against the world for your love . . . I’m sorry.”
I rose, smoothed my skirt and top, then strode after Remo. I would not break my word with him and go back on our deal. Why he wanted to feed now was beyond me, though. Maybe he wanted to impress the new vampires with his strength? That was probably it—the stronger he was, the better when dealing with them. The business side of my brain got it. My heart, though, was struggling.
I drew in a breath as I stepped out of the bar. I held the air, rolling it over my tongue and picking up on Remo’s signature scent of cinnamon and honey. I was going to miss that smell, miss the way it soothed my senses. I followed it around the corner of the building. His hands shot out of the darkness and yanked me to him. I gasped and put my hands on his chest, shocked at the aggression he was showing.
And more than a little turned on by it.
“You can’t just bite me, you know that.” I blurted the words out, shocked at the mix of anger and desire raging in me. The emotions were a heady mix.
“Then do it, and let’s be done with this,” he growled.
Be done with this, be done with me. He wasn’t doing this to impress anyone; he was doing it because he wanted me out of his life as fast as he could, and that meant using up my offers of blood as soon as possible.
Ernie cleared his throat. “You still got Beth’s feather on you? It’ll cut through clean.”
I nodded and put a hand to my purse, pulling out the silver-and-gold feather. It was from my friend Beth. A Stymphalian bird who’d died at the hands of Theseus. I kept her feather to remind me of her, and also to remind myself of the power I carried as a Drakaina. But also to remind me that I was not invulnerable to being hurt, or even killed. The feather could cut through even my snakeskin, making the innocuous-looking item deadly in the wrong hands. Remo’s hands tightened on my waist as I lifted the feather to my neck.
“Your wrist will be fine,” he snapped.
Of course, the wrist was far less intimate than the neck. But if he wanted my blood, he was going to do it my way. Which meant being reminded of exactly what it was he was about to give up. With a sharp motion I made a tiny cut at the base of my neck on the left-hand side. “Bite me,” I said.
With a growl he slammed his mouth against the wound, all traces of the man I knew disappearing under what he really was. A vampire. A mob boss. Out for himself and no one else.
A spike of pleasure shot from his mouth, down through my chest, and pooled in between my legs. I whimpered even as I clung to him, feeling his muscles bunch and flex under my hands. His mouth slipped from the wound and up my neck, trailing kisses, trailing love bites that made my knees weak. Our lips met, and there was an explosion of hunger in our kiss, our hands seemingly unable to draw one another close enough. This was good-bye, I knew it, and I fought to make it last longer. To make him see that I was good for him.
I was good enough.
Maybe I wasn’t.
He bit my lower lip, tugged it toward him, and then let go. I looked up into his eyes to see the same dazed hunger that had nothing to do with the belly and everything to do with the body.
“You are a siren; stop trying to sway me.” He pushed me away from him. I clamped a hand over the wound in my neck. I had to get it stitched up right away, to close off the wound that could be used against me. That’s what I focused on, that physical vulnerability. That’s why it hurt so much. It had nothing to do with the pain in my heart. Nothing to do with the realization that I’d been used again by a man who professed to care about me.