Page 13 of Threads of Crimson 2

Benji paled. “That…that’s against your laws, isn’t it?”

“It is. It’s a heinous crime. It’s a wonder the fledgling didn’t walk into the sun and burn or starve. It’s disgusting.”

Like my mouth had a mind of its own, I continued, “And I don’t want to be involved in the politics of this. If I hunt down the beast who did this, it’ll be considered engagement.” I thumped my chest with my fist. “I belong on the periphery. I fought hard to be released from the confines of my family. If I hunt Ego’s Maker, it’ll be like plucking on the threads that connect me to my Sire’s other children.”

Benji moved on to his knees in the center of the bed. “Is that what you meant by helping the fledgling? You’re going to track who did this?”

I scoffed. “No, I didn’t promise him that. It’s just what I want to do.”

“Isn’t there someone you can report this to? Enforcers or something who handle this kind of thing?”

Goddess, if only it was that easy. “I could report it to the council, but…” I trailed off, licking my lips. I didn’t want to go down that road. Not ever.

“What about Damien?” he asked, sounding hopeful that someone he knew and trusted would take care of it.

My poor sweet human had no idea who Damien was in our world. He didn’t wield as much power at the council, but he was a close second. He wasn’t as harmful or dangerous to me, but if I cajoled him into looking for Ego’s Maker, word might get out that it was at my request. It would be like shining a beacon on me.

I shook my head. “No. I’ll help Ego with his transition, but I can’t do more than that. Not unless his Sire comes looking for him.” Then I would just have to hope he came alone—without telling anyone else where to find me—so that I could leave him in the sun to die. The same death that he’d left Ego to face.

“Ego?” Benji snorted. “There’s someone else in this world who really has the name Ego?”

Caught off guard by his question, I stopped pacing. “What do you mean, someone else?”

Benji rolled his eyes. “Come on, Lysandro. I know you’re old and love your classical music, but you’ve had to have heard of Ego, the famous pop star?”

I stared at him. Benji’s head tilted in confusion, and I arched an eyebrow. His gasp as he caught on was almost enough to make me smile. “Holy shit, Lysandro. You have to help him. That poor guy. What’s he going to do? He won’t be able to tour, will he? Do you need to find him a donor? Should we take him to Velvet Vein?”

The very last thing I wanted to do was expose the young fledgling to others in this world. He didn’t understand our culture, how long-lived most were, or how opportunistic. They’d eat him up and spit him out. “No, eventually, I’ll need to find him a donor, but right now he needs to be feeding from his Sire while he comes into his new nature.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “You offered to feed him, didn’t you?”

I threw up my arms in frustration. “What other choice did I have?”

Benji moved to the desk and sat on the edge, holding out his arm and offering me his wrist. “Then I guess that means you’ll be needing me more.”

He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t exactly right either. I already drank his blood far more than necessary, but I couldn’t get enough of his essence. Tending to Ego’s needs, though, my thirst for Benji would become more need than want. If that was possible.

Sitting in the chair, I stroked my fingers over the thin skin over his wrist. “Lysandro, what are you waiting for?” he asked, tone laced with humor and impatience. He really did enjoy our feedings. Especially his cock.

Giving one hard tug, I pulled him off balance and into my lap. Caught off guard, he stiffened, then curled an arm around my shoulders as I nuzzled my nose into his neck. “Lysandro,” he said on a breathy whisper.

“Do you really want this?” I asked as my teeth descended. “Will you give me the gift of your carotid artery? I know you’ve never—”

“Because it was always for you,” he said, cutting me off. “It feels intimate, doesn’t it?” His cheeks flushed a pretty pink with the question.

“Hmm, I think so,” I answered honestly, brushing the tips of my fangs across his skin.

“Please, Lysandro,” he begged.

The control I’d been fighting to maintain all this time snapped. My teeth punctured his flesh as my dick went rock hard. This was an intimacy I’d denied myself for so long.

I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I’d even gotten off with someone, but that didn’t compare to the vulnerability of this act for a human. It might not be more than another area to tap for my brethren, but to me, it meant something.

As I willed pleasure into his body, he moaned, squirming on my lap and making the situation in my pants more defined. I knew the minute he felt my desire by the way he scooted even closer, grinding down.

Slowing down, sipping at his neck, I hovered my hand over his erection. “Yes,” he hissed. “Please. Please touch me. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Deftly undoing his pants, I cupped him gently through his briefs, relishing the harsh, hot breath he exhaled over my cheek. His blood exceeded nourishment. It had become my drug. But his warmth was like a balm to the coldness that naturally enveloped me.