Suzanne McLeod - The Sweet Scent of Blood

And even though I’d known it was an inside job—no vampire could’ve crossed Mick’s threshold without an invitation—and that Mick was only the messenger, I agreed to the bargain when it was offered.

Siobhan was the first fae I’d managed to save. There’d been others in need, before Siobhan, but I’d found them too late. After Siobhan, I’d been much more successful, but by then I had my own insider information.

That bargain, the one I’d made then, was why I was now standing in a locked cell with a vampire accused of murdering his girlfriend, and it was why that vampire was taking me on an unwelcome trip down memory lane.

He was delivering an invitation.

So what the fuck was wrong with using the phone?

Chill air crawled over my flesh. I backed up and leant against the door, not sure if Bobby would say any more. He rocked from side to side, grey eyes glazed, mouth half-open revealing a glimpse of fang. He might have hit the jackpot and graduated from blood-pet to blood-sucker over the last four years, but he was still just a puppet, jerking on his Master’s strings. It would be decades before Bobby would reach his Autonomy.

I wondered if he’d known what the Gift had meant, or whether, with his looks, he’d truly been a sucker? Poor bastard. But then, he was better off than Melissa, his girlfriend. At least he wasn’t lying in the morgue. Yet.

Another blast of frozen air hit me. I rubbed my hands over my arms and shivered again. What had happened to the heating? I looked up at the vents, puzzled. Then it hit me: Constable Curly-hair must’ve cut the heat. That same heat that was keeping Bobby, the vampire from getting agitated. Bitch! I rapped my knuckles against the cell door. Time to go.

Movement caught in the corner of my vision. I turned back to see Bobby on his hands and knees, head hanging down.

This was so not good.

I slammed my hand against the door again.

Bobby started moving, his movements more fluid now as he crawled across the floor towards me.

I kicked the door with my heel, feeling the reverberation of the hard metal. Surely she could hear it out there?

Three feet away, he lifted his head and scented the air.

My heart thudded. I shifted, arms loose and ready at my sides. Maybe I was staying for dinner after all.

Two feet...

Calm. Don’t get him excited. I willed my pulse to slow, but the trick wasn’t working. Instead, the silver-laden air tightened my throat and panic pumped my blood faster. C’mon, think calm!

His hand touched my shoe.

I clamped my jaw to stop from screaming.

He wrapped his arm round my knees, curling into my legs. ‘Help her,’ he whispered. ‘Help Siobhan.’

My head dropped back against the door and I let out a relieved sigh. Bobby was still trapped in the memory. Cautiously, I brushed his hair aside, offered him a reassuring smile. ‘It’s okay, Bobby, Siobhan’s safe now.’

Pink tinged tears glistened in his eyes. ‘She is?’

I cupped his cheek, feeling the urge to comfort him. ‘She’s gone back to Ireland,’ I said softly.

He made a quiet snuffle, then turned, pressing his nose against the inside of my wrist. My stomach jumped. His arm tightened round my legs, his hand convulsing around mine, the points of his fangs sharp against my pulse. The back of my neck throbbed in answer. I breathed in the heady smell of liquorice and the venom craving hit me. Need and want flared hot through my veins, drew a cry from my mouth and flooded my skin with a blood-flush.

Damn. I was neck-deep in trouble ... and there was nothing I wanted to do about it.

I closed my eyes, anticipating the sting of his bite—

The pain didn’t come.

A tremor shuddered through me.

I stared down at him, and carefully, slowly, pulled my wrist away from his mouth.

He didn’t try and stop me, just watched, awareness sliding over his face.

Tension spiralled inside me.

‘You’re the sidhe.’ Anticipation laced his voice. He flowed to his feet, the movement almost faster than I could see, crowded me back against the door, shoved his hands in my hair. The liquorice scent bled into my mind, holding me captive. Hot breath seared my jaw. He bent his head to my throat. Then he hissed, the noise loud and angry, and punched the door next to my face. I flinched and he flung himself away from me, yelling with rage.

I risked a look at the dented door and shuddered. What was wrong? Why hadn’t he bitten me? He was young, a baby vamp, and even if he wasn’t hungry—which he had to be—no way could he resist a feed that close to a venom-induced blood-flush. He should have broken skin at the very least.

Fuck. And I hadn’t been about to stop him.

I almost cried at the irony. How stupid was I, to think I could deny it twice in one night? So much for telling Hugh I had the 3V under control: the desire to offer my blood was so desperate that I had to fight the urge to scratch at my own bare arms. And there was worse to come.

I gritted my teeth as the cramps hit. I clutched at my stomach, sliding down the wall, tears pricking the back of my eyes.

He crouched in front of me. ‘Christ, but I want to drink you down so bad.’ He pulled me into his arms, buried his face in my neck. ‘You smell fucking wonderful.’ Anguish sliced through his voice. ‘God, I can feel it, feel your pain, taste it. It hurts, hurts like hell.’

Panting, I grabbed at him, tore at his paper coverall.

Hands caught my wrists, held me still. ‘Shh. You smell so sweet, and hot, your skin’s burning with blood, I bet you taste better than Her, better even than Mel.’ His words vibrated along my pulse. ‘I haven’t had a decent meal in weeks. All that thin human blood is all He’s let me have.’

Hot claws raked inside me as though rending the flesh from my bones. I opened my mouth, screaming with the pain .

Make it stop.

Sharp tips punctured my heart.

Please, anything.

Ripped through my gut .

No more.

Then it was over.

‘Why?’ I gasped into his chest, limp and exhausted.

‘Bastard likes his games.’ He laughed, the sound bitter. ‘It turns him on. He lets you have a taste, just so you appreciate what you’re missing. Christ, I’m rationed to two mouthfuls, even from my own girlfriend—and he has to watch.’ He licked my throat. ‘Bet he’s getting his rocks off right now, watching me drool over sweet sidhe blood, knowing I can’t have even a drop.’

‘No—’ Still weak, I clutched at him. ‘Why that memory?’

He pushed me back, frowned at me. ‘What memory?’

‘Sucker Town.’ I gulped in cold air. ‘Four years ago. The fang-gang.’

‘I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.’ His fingers dug into my arms. ‘Which means the bastard’s been screwing with me again, stealing my memories. Fuck, I hate it when he does that—it’s bloody torture when he gives them back.’ He looked around the cell, disgusted. ‘And I don’t even fucking remember where here is!’

I slumped in his hold. ‘We’re in the police station,’ I whispered. ‘Do you remember about Melissa?’

‘Melissa?’ He shook me, making my head snap back. ‘What—?’

The door opening interrupted him. ‘Time’s up, sucker.’ Constable Curly-hair’s tone was gleeful. Something metallic clanged.

Almost as if in slow motion, I saw him react. He grabbed my shoulders, rolling me over, away from the door.

‘Hey,’ she shouted, ‘don’t make me use this.’ Green light shattered the edges of my vision. ‘C’mon, that’s enough now.’

Bobby threw himself on top of me, crushing me as a fork of green lightning arced round the cell. Burnt mint assaulted my nostrils. He jerked, limbs moving as though pulled by tight strings. His eyes widened with pain, then fell empty and blank.