Unfettered Vampire (Found & Freed: The Unfettered #5)

7. Chapter 7

Chapter seven

Ned

U gh. I can’t believe it is time to feed again. Hopefully, this time won’t be so eventful. I’ve blocked WellHung45, and if Morgan makes a new account, well, I know what he looks like naked now. In intricate detail. You could show me any random square inch of his flesh and I’d recognize him instantly.

So, no, last time’s disaster is never, ever happening again. And this stupid disappointment I feel at that, can go do one. Why on earth would I want a repeat of that calamity?

Things still aren’t back to normal. Every time I turn around, Morgan is staring at me with a strange look in his eyes. I don’t think he is going to fire me, because surely he would have done so by now if it was on his mind? But fuck know’s what has got into him lately. All I can do about it is try not to ruffle any more of his feathers and wait for this storm to pass.

Tonight, I’m going to feed as quickly as possible and then get the hell home. Comfy slippers and a good book is all I want. By all rights, I should be relaxing in a nursing home without a care in the world. Not still dealing with all the bullshit life brings .

My shoulders hunch. Even though it is nighttime and I’m nearly at the shitty hotel tonight’s hookup has chosen. It is a crap part of town, but I’m sticking to my decision to never go to a victim’s home. Hotels enable me to think of them as faceless, nameless food sources. It is less personal. It feels safer. And any little thing that lessens my guilt is something to hang onto.

“Hello, Ned.”

I nearly levitate out of my skin. My feet grind to a halt, and I glare at the vampire who has appeared right in front of me.

Tall. Blond. Thin. Blue eyes. Fancy suit.

Crap. It is Baltazar. Leader of the local flight.

“Hi,” I say warily. What does this fucker want? It can’t be anything good.

“I wanted to check on how you were doing,” he smiles insidiously. “A little youngling, all alone.”

I shudder and try to hide it from his all too knowing eyes. Fucking vampires. Apart from the whole needing to drink blood, and sunlight being a pain in the ass, I feel like an old human. A very old human. Yet to vampires, I am nothing more than a baby. I hate it.

“I’m fine,” I say with gritted teeth.

There is absolutely no point in telling him I’m not alone. I live with what feels like a thousand other people. Paranormal kin. My brothers in all but blood. And their assorted mates. Okay, none of them are vampires, but I’m not short of company.

And then there is Morgan and the kids. A whole other family .

I am not alone. Far from it. But a vampire is not going to see it that way and I’m not going to waste my breath arguing the point.

“Vampires belong in flights.”

His blue eyes are cold. His tone almost emotionless. He is acting as if he doesn’t care. But I can sense the threat. He doesn’t like that I am not under his rule.

I lick my lips. “The Grandmaster said I didn’t need to join a flight.”

“Silas feels sorry for you. Understandably.”

This motherfucker. I really hope that insult was aimed at me and wasn’t a sly dig at the Grandmaster. Though, calling him by his first name is giving me doubts. Oh for fuck’s sake, the last thing the paranormal world needs is another civil war.

I don’t like Silas. He is a necromancer, after all. But he seems to be a decent enough leader. And he helped Lello, so he gets my respect for that.

Add in the fact that he is holding a position of power while everyone knows about his traumatic past, well that is quite something. All in all, Baltazar is being a complete fucking asshat by insinuating that the Grandmaster is giving me leeway as a fellow victim.

But I can’t punch the twat in the face. He is like a billion years old or something. Far stronger than me, anyhow. Hitting him will only irritate him.

So I bite back my temper and wait to see what he says next.

He smirks at me. “Though, you are a special case. Killing your maker when so young, is quite something.”

My heart thumps. Then it thumps again. It starts to beat as if I am alive. I can hear my blood moving through the small veins in my ears. It is a surreal and very unnerving sound.

I stare helplessly up at Baltazar. A deer in the headlights. Too numb and dazzled to escape my impending doom.

Cold fingers trace under my chin. “It can be our little secret.” His head cocks to the side. “You are very pretty. I can see why he chose you.”

My vision blacks out. I can’t see a thing. I’m rooted to the spot. A statue carved of fear. Dread and terror are clawing at me. I’m helpless, so very helpless, and there is no hope.

“Ned!”

There are strong fingers wrapped around my wrist.

“Ned? Calm down. I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”

I blink, and suddenly I can see again. Baltazar’s blue eyes are full of concern and a smattering of shame. I wince and close my eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” whispers Baltazar. “I got a little too carried away with the whole intimidating, powerful flight leader act. I wasn’t thinking.”

I draw in a big, shuddering breath. Habit from when I was alive. Strangely, it is still calming.

“Ned, I may be many things, but a rapist isn’t one of them.”

For fuck’s sake. First, he scares the crap out of me, and then he drowns me with his pity. What a nightmare. Apparently I’m such a pathetic bastard, I can shock old vampires out of their usual dickhead behavior. Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant.

I open my eyes. Maybe if I’m pathetic enough he will leave me alone and decide he doesn’t want a damaged freak of a victim in his flight after all .

He is still staring at me intently, but he lets go of my wrist. I want to leave, but he hasn’t dismissed me yet.

“You may feed from my pet. It is the least I can do. You are in no fit state to hunt.”

Oh crap. This is an offer I cannot refuse. All the patheticness in the world would not save me from the wrath that insult would cause.

Was this his cunning plan all along? Has he orchestrated this entire situation? I cannot fathom the motive or reason, but it seems likely. Far more believable than him suddenly turning benevolent and kind-hearted.

“Thank you,” I say weakly. It is the only thing I can say. He has me trapped. Cornered. Whatever he is up to, I am his powerless pawn.

Baltazar’s hand rests on my shoulder. His touch is light, but his strength is unmistakable. He steers me to a nearby alleyway. There is a dark car parked at the very end of it. The vampire clicks his fingers and makes a beckoning gesture.

The car door opens and a human jogs up to us. A big, well-built man somewhere in his mid twenties. His brown eyes stare at Baltazar with utter devotion. He is barely noticing my existence.

“Kneel,” says Baltazar. “You are going to feed my friend here.”

The human drops to his knees as if his strings have been cut. My stomach rolls. Addicted humans give me the ick. I’m soft enough and still human enough to feel sorry for them. The thought that in a few hundred years all my humanity will have fallen away and I might be keeping a pet of my own, gives me nightmares .

The pet tilts his head, baring his neck to me. Offering his blood.

My hunger surges at the sight, and my body takes a step towards him.

“Enjoy,” drawls Baltazar.

I shudder. Fuck him. This is gross, but I guess it is not much different from what I was going to do to the random guy waiting upstairs in the hotel. At least this poor sod is aware of what is happening.

I step even closer. The fact that this man has to kneel in order for me to be able to reach his neck, is darkly hilarious. I’m really not the suave, tall, dark and handsome vampire of popular myths. No Hollywood director would cast me as one. I don’t look the type. I look far more like prey than predator.

Nevertheless, the human’s blood is singing to me, and my hunger is rising. There is no point in delaying this. So I take a hold of him and bite.

His blood gushes into my mouth. Hot and coppery. I gulp it down. Fuck, he tastes good. No drugs, alcohol or cigarettes. The clean, vibrant taste of a healthy diet and a young man in his prime. He tastes of youth. Of life. And I drink it all.

As soon as I’m sated. I stop. I remove my lips from his skin and lick the puncture wounds shut. Then I step back away from him.

He is swaying slightly. A dazed, glassy look to his eyes. The scent of his intense arousal is clouding the air. But he isn’t even looking at me. His attention is entirely focused on Baltazar.

The flight leader steps forward and holds out his hand to the kneeling man. He seems to have only eyes for his pet and that is just fine by me. Let him forget me and leave me alone. Maybe all is not lost and all he wanted from me was for me to play a part in his kinky sex games.

“Come on baby, let me take care of you.”

The human lumbers to his feet and follows Baltazar to the car. Doors open and slam. The engine roars to life. Then I’m all alone.

Standing in a dark alleyway and wondering what Morgan would taste like. Does he drink enough good whisky to be flavored by it?

If I drank from him, would he look at me with devotion?

Would he want to be mine?

These questions are consuming me. Burning through my being. I can think of nothing else. I am enslaved by them.

Oh shit. Icy cold horror douses me, bringing me to my senses. I draw in another shaky breath and run my hand through my hair. This is precisely why I have to keep my distance from Morgan. He has to stay my boss and nothing else.

Because he is lovely. And I’m a monster.