Page 67 of Guardians for the Vamp
I bite my lip attempting to control my fit of laughter. “I love when you’re nervous and vulnerable. It makes you seem almost human.”
“How dare you. Take it back.”
That only makes me laugh harder, and Thorne joins in. I wouldn’t say we’ve lost our minds... I think we’re just on edge. The fated mate bond has been gnawing at us… growing stronger every day we fail to complete it, so every little thing we do is exaggerated.
Like yesterday, Thorne blew his load simply by making out with me.
Our laughter slowly dies just in time for the SUV to pull in front of a building across from Central Park along Fifth Avenue. It’s a simple-looking building, about fifteen stories tall, stuck between two other buildings with an off-white brick facade.
Nothing I’d expect the First Vampire to reside in.
Inside, a doorman greets us. He’s expecting us and leads us to a private elevator off to the side. He inputs a code into a display and exits. A few seconds later, the doors close, and we’re taken to the top floor.
We enter the apartment, which is a duplex. The first room is a sitting or reading area with a single chaise lounge and a fireplace along the green wall. There’s a spiral staircase on the opposite side of the room.
“Welcome,” Rorik says, suddenly appearing.
Thorne balls his fists at his sides and mumbles something about ‘fucking vampire speed.’
Rory scans our group, one of his thick eyebrows rising at the two additional bodyguards Thorne brought with us.
“Would you like a tour?”
“Yes,” I say at the same time Vara says, “No.”
“Something to drink?”
“No,” Thorne and I say at the same time Vara says, “Yes.”
Rorik smiles, the expression almost appearing foreign on the face of a vampire known to keep to the shadows.
“Follow me,” Rory says, giving me a wink before turning to take us down a hallway.
I push Thorne behind me, knowing he was about to murder Rorik over that harmless wink, and follow the elder vamp. He points out a few bedrooms and a bathroom before we stop in the kitchen. He makes a drink for Vara, not even asking her what she wants. He hands her a glass of vibrant golden booze, and she raises a brow after taking a sip.
“Remy Martin Black Pearl. How did you know this is my favorite?”
Thorne growls, and Vara grabs his hand. “It’s okay, Thorne. This vampire is not a threat to you.”
He winces. The protectiveness has become worse after the attempted hit on my life. Nearly every day, I’ve had to calm him down from wanting to rip someone’s throat out. I’m pretty sure he would kick someone into an oncoming bus for merely looking at either of us.
“Your nightclubs always have the best liquor,” Rory says. “This cognac is the only one you keep on the shelves but don’t offer it on the menu.”
“Very observant.” Vara shrugs. “But itisfor sale. I only offer it to high-profile supes. If the so-called first vampire had just mentioned his name to any of my bartenders, he would have been served.”
“Good to know.” He chuckles and turns to lead us into the living space.
It’s compact but cozy, the walls in here also green. The vamp loves green, that’s for sure. A white couch sits in front of a brick fireplace with two matching white arm chairs on either side. A painting hangs over the fireplace of a vampire fucking what appears to be a human woman who’s feasting on a female gargoyle’s cunt.
“You like it,” he asks me.
It’s not a question. He knows I like it because he can smell my arousal. Not to mention my fangs have dropped.
“It's me and my mates,” he says.
Our heads slowly turn away from the painting to Rorik who continues to stare at the erotic scene.
“I met them 2,200 years ago when I lived in what is now modern-day Croatia. I was 800 years undead.”
