The game in the living area had progressed beyond just drinking when Jan burst out of his room. Louie had climbed on top of the only male guest and was sticking his tongue down the guy's throat. With his hand deep in Louie's pants, the schmuck did not look like he was complaining. The other girl lay sleeping beside them. The licentious French vampire had not even bothered to seal the fang marks on her neck after feeding.
"Ugh!" For some reason, the scene irked him more than he expected.
"Jan?"
He was out the door before he heard Louie's shout. Thankfully, his hedonistic best friend did not follow him out.
Jan's long strides led him down a concrete path under Luna's embrace. The full moon was waning, but her light was bright as midday, or what he remembered of noon from his days as a human.
It shown on the manicured lawns and carefully trimmed trees. But he failed to enjoy the soothing sights of the community. His mind was in turmoil.
What's happening to me? I've never been turned off by fresh blood, not even the ones full of alcohol or drugs. So why's Eva's blood so disgusting to me? Is it because I tasted Ethan's?
The last question sparked another longing in Jan. He remembered the saccharine taste of the Lycan's blood and the smooth feel of his skin under his lips. If Jan closed his eyes, he could almost smell that sweaty, intoxicating scent of the young wolf in the air.
Jan groaned when he realized his fangs had extended. He shook his head, pushing thoughts of Ethan out of his mind, and then focused on placing one foot in front of the other on the path.
His ambling led him down the tree-lined walkway around a park in the community.
Up ahead, a flash of movement caught his eye.
There was something about the way it moved like the person did not want to be seen. He slowed his stepped, and focused on that spot, zooming in. Two bodies lurked in the shadows.
With the kind of clientele that a marked motel hosts, no vampire would be caught cavorting in public. Probably except for Louie. But Jan knew where his best friend was at this moment, and it was not under a tree.
Jan moved off the open path and into the shade, slinking between the trunks until he got close.
He sniffed the air.
One was human, the other was a Dhampir, the scion of another vampire. Jan could pick up the human element still in the fledgling's scent. He must either be freshly turned or a very sheltered one because Jan was almost upon them, and he had still not detected his presence.
Jan picked up a pebble and flicked it at the couple. The Dhampir looked up. A female. She had blood smeared over her lips and dribbling down her chin.
Uncultured swine!
She held a young boy in her arms, not older than twelve. His eyes were open, unblinking. Yet, she was still feeding on the corpse, hissing at Jan to protect her kill. Unlike vampires, Dhamphirs could not control themselves. They were almost animalistic, driven only by their thirst for blood.
This was the reason why they should never be let out unsupervised. It was also why Jan had promised himself never to sire one.
He took a step forward, and the fledgling cried again. She reminded him of the night he stood in the moonlight with Ethan, hissing in response to the wolf's howl, daring the world to face them.
The memory was like a smoldering dagger through his heart and his nose flared. His breath came out in ragged bursts.
The molten-silver eyes hardened, and he broke off a branch, about the thickness of his arm. The Dhampir dropped the corpse she held, backing away. Jan's gaze did not waver from her.
YOU ARE READING
Blooded Mate
Fantasy[[MATURE CONTENT]] Pack, family, mate. Loyalty, respect, honor. These are the words that form the foundation of the wolf society. At six years old, Ethan had to choose between his Alpha title and his survival on the night of his father's death. As a...
