Page 101 of The Donor’s Dilemma

Her mother was her compass, and she was right. The problem wouldn't be fixed by simply lowering the age limit of donation. The picture was far too big for that.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Although her desk was still covered in sticky notes, Stella seemed far less manic when Verity arrived for her Monday night donation.

“He’s still got someone in,” she said, glancing up at Verity while packing her things away.

“No worries,” Verity replied, taking a seat. “How’s he been tonight?”

“Fine, why?” Stella looked up at her with narrowed eyes.

It wasn’t always obvious how to take Stella. She could be snarky and prickly at times, and Verity still wasn’t sure if the vampire liked her or not. Their acquaintance was more like a truce than a friendship, like a cat who you never fully trusted not to scratch you. Theo, on the other hand, talked about Stella like she was sent from Phoenar himself.

“No reason,” she said, removing her jacket and smoothing the fabric of her button-up dress. Grabbing a paper from the table, she pretended to read until Stella stopped staring and returned to tidying her desk. Of course, she’d be able to tell Verity was a little more anxious than normal. Thinking about it only made her heart beat faster. After being around vampires so much these past weeks, she had hoped to gain a bit more control over her body, but apparently not.

Other than a few texts, she hadn’t spoken to Theo since he’d dropped her off the previous night. From the limited messages they had exchanged she got the distinct impression he wanted to pretend the whole ordeal with Abe hadn’t happened, which was fine by her. The only thing that truly concerned Verity was his refusal to admit he was hungry. She was well aware of how little he’d drunk at SubRosa, but he declined her every offer.

Turning the page of the newspaper she caught the homely scent of ink on cheap paper. In fact… she looked around the reception area. Normally she wouldn’t be able to smell something so subtle with the copious amounts of flowers decorating the space, but there were none. Not one rose or lily to perfume the air. Not even a bit of foliage. Good. With the city budget strained as it was, it was only right that the flowers went before jobs and livelihoods.

She turned the page, finding an article on housing. It would seem that the city was on the edge of a house price crash, with the market being flooded with luxury houses and apartments and not enough people to buy them. It was written as if readers should feel sorry for the poor mansion owners struggling to sell homes that could house a small village and cost more than a family would make in a lifetime. Verity’s heart bled for the poor dears.

“Can you remind him he’s got a meeting first thing tomorrow?” Stella asked, throwing her bag over her shoulder.

“Will do,” Verity replied.

Stella thanked her, already walking away with her eyes glued to her phone.

It was another ten minutes before the office door opened and two police officers emerged. One human, one vampire, wearing almost identical uniforms. Only the vampire had a crescent moon embroidered on his shoulder and the human had a sun.

“Leave it with me, sir,” the vampire was saying.

Theo appeared, shaking the vampire’s hand and offering his thanks before turning to the human. The man’s face glowed as bright as the sun sewn onto his jacket. His cheeks looked sticky as he offered a limp hand, mumbling something Verity couldn’t make out.

“Chin up, Talbot,” Theo said, giving the hand a hearty shake. “We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Talbot nodded before hurrying after the vampire who hadn’t bothered waiting, giving Verity her first unobstructed view of Theo. He looked exhausted, his pale skin taking on the same dull hue as his eyes.

Not waiting for an invitation, Verity hopped from her seat and approached, sliding past Theo when he stepped aside with a tight-lipped smile.

“You look like shit,” she greeted, grabbing the whiskey and looking for somewhere to sit. Other than Theo’s high backed chair and the two small couches, every other seat was missing. “Where are all the chairs?”

“We needed them for a meeting earlier. I can go get…”

“No, it’s fine,” said Verity, sitting on a couch and patting the seat beside her.

Their legs touched as he sat, the fabric of his trousers resting against her bare knee. They could have moved back but neither seemed inclined to.

Theo started pouring whiskey, but Verity held out her wrist.

“Feed first.”

Ignoring the request, he took a sip.

“Come on,” Verity said, forcing her hand into his. “You must be ravenous.”

Familiar heat coursed through her when he took her hand, watching her as he massaged. Something was different. His hands worked, firm and sure, but something had changed. His expression was stony, jaw set with determination, or perhaps irritation. He barely spoke to her. Hadn’t bombarded her with the usual deluge of calls and texts. Didn’t want to see her the previous night.