Page 32 of Bite Me

“You’re not drinking?” Darien’s voice jolts me from the thought. He’s overdressed for a party. The guy wears cuff links to breakfast.

“Nope.”

I’m still riding the high of simply being in the same room as Emma’s fresh blood. I wondered if I’d ever lose control if I was put in the wrong position at the wrong time, but once I smelled her blood, I didn’t even think about the taste or the potency.

All I could think of was getting her somewhere safe.

Then, once I had her somewhere safe . . . Well, that doesn’t count. My first instinct was to protect her, which is a problem for me. Because now things should be easier.

I’ve been trying to keep her away, and now my task is to do the opposite. The Osbornes are actively being sought by people like my grandfather.

That’s why I’m at this party.

We’re standing on the fringes of the Solexxa House party. Ambient jazz pop plays, and unlike Luxxia House parties that are so loud that it feels as if my ears are bleeding, I’m actually enjoying the calm.

Solexxa House was designed by one of the most influential women in Vviveren at the time. She was said to have an adoration for emerald green, plants, and fish, which is why two of the biggest fish tanks in Vviveren are located on campus. They’re costly to maintain, but Doxlothia has no shortage of donors.

I know Emma is here because I smell her. Traces of her are littered everywhere. The walls. Shoulders. Coats.

When I find her, she’s drunk and twirling around in a dress that’s open in the back and shows her perfect, creamy skin. I wonder what it might feel like to run my tongue down the center of it. Her hair is straight, and she’s got on thick, winged liner that I’ve never seen her wear and body glitter covering anywhere that’s exposed.

Luther comes into view, spinning her with a bottle in his other hand, and I’m suddenly rethinking that drink. I don’t know what his game is, but I don’t fucking like it. Luther is a legacy family son as well, which means he will likely get married off somewhere down the line. That also means he doesn’t have any interest in partners apart from fucking them.

Which is none of my concern. But even with Parker and Olivia and the other Osborne sister whose name I always forget here, I’m afraid to take my eyes off her.

Darien would be the one to pick me out of the crowd. I swear that he looks for opportunities to annoy me.

I sigh. “We don’t need to talk.”

“I thought we were friends.”

I don’t have friends, and for good reason. The Dacre who thought friends were a good idea died years ago.

“The only thing you can trust is the bond of family,” my grandfather had told me one night. That was the first time I’d ever seen him with watery eyes after his best friend betrayed him. It’s a long story.

“Is there a reason you’re pestering me?” I snap, desperate to be alone again.

“Just wanted to lend a helping hand with the Osborne sister this semester.”

Emma?

Darien’s been working his way into having the Osbornes and Parker tucked in his pocket by helping them and then using that to shoot himself higher in social status. He’s somewhat of an information broker. It’s working now that he’s been photographed with the most popular couple in Vviveren multiple times.

“I heard news that the girls’ lack of interest in the Donor Program is drawing more and more attention, what with the newfound fame they are gaining thanks to Olivia’s linked mate bond.”

“Attention from whom?”

That sounds strangely similar to what my grandfather told me.

“Just heard it fluttering about in certain circles.”

I fight another sigh. He keeps his hands clean; that’s how he’s able to move people around to do things that benefit him. It also makes him a great source of information.

“And you think I care because . . . ?”

“Am I supposed to ignore your obvious infatuation with the youngest Osborne sister? I have a radar for those types of things.”

Whatever. As if he’d be able to prove that in any capacity. Plus, this infatuation is a direct result of being scent-matches, and that’s something I don’t need anyone to know.