by Becca Blake
Azalea’s eyes widened. “For blood?”
Lilah nodded and took another drink of her tea. “If you sign a contract with the Blood Den to be a Feeder, they let you move to the Second District. And the pay is great, too.”
Azalea rubbed her neck and shuddered. “But you have to let vampires…bite you? Wouldn’t that hurt?”
“I’ve heard it’s not as bad as you’d think,” Lilah said. “My sister went and did it.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Azalea said.
“Haven’t seen her in over a century. She came back here to visit for the first few decades, but then I guess the glamor of her new life in the Second District sucked her in, and she moved on. She hasn’t bothered with me since.”
“Why haven’t you gone, then?” Azalea asked.
Lilah scoffed. “Vamps give me the creeps. She says they’re kind, that they do right by the Feeders. That’s all well and good, but I don’t want them sticking their teeth into me…or sticking anything else into me, for that matter. I’d rather stay here and keep whoring myself out to my own kind, thanks.”
“But your sister says the feeding isn’t all that bad? It doesn’t hurt?” Azalea asked. Part of her hated that she was more curious than horrified by the idea. But if signing a contract with the Blood Den could get her into the Second District faster, wasn’t it at least worth learning more?
“That’s what she says.” Lilah leaned back in the chair, rocking it on its legs. “She says it’s dreamy and pleasant all at once, like when someone here actually manages to show you a good time. But better than that.”
“I don’t know that I believe that,” Azalea said.
“Believe it or don’t. You won’t know unless you try it.” Lilah took both cups and rinsed them in the sink. “Not that I’m suggesting you try it, mind you. The Madam would kill me if she thought I was encouraging you to leave. But if you do, say hi to Sara for me, will you? I miss her.”
Azalea thanked Lilah for the talk and left the brothel, slipping past the Madam to avoid getting trapped in another conversation. Once she was outside, the pressure in her chest finally began to dull. A break was all she needed. A week away from having strangers’ hands all over her body would help clear her head.
But it wouldn’t change her situation.
At the end of the week, she’d still be stuck in the lowest tier of Terra Nocturne’s society, selling her body to save up for a better future.
Her gaze traveled up the cliffside to the wall that separated the Second District from the Third. Behind that wall, the elves who’d bought their way there lived alongside the lower class of vampires, enjoying all the same pleasures, the same quality of life. Miria thought the stories of life in the Second District were too good to be true, but Azalea had to hope. If the Third District was all there was, they had nothing to look forward to.
What was a few hundred years if they could live out the rest of their lives in peace? Though, she’d only lived through a fraction of that so far. Hundreds of years still seemed unfathomably long to suffer through, especially if there was another option that meant she didn’t have to wait that long.
She gave her own neck a hard pinch, increasing the pressure until she yelped. The pain lasted only a moment, and then it was gone.
Maybe feeding a vampire would be the same way. As Lilah said, she wouldn’t know until she tried. If Azalea could tolerate it, she could gain entry to the Second District, and she could save up enough gold to bring Miria with her. She would never do what Lilah’s sister had done—she wouldn’t leave Miria behind and forget about her.
Before Azalea could change her mind, she started toward the steep staircase that led to the Second District…and the Blood Den.
3
Azalea’s legs ached from the climb up the cliffside stairs. As she neared the top, she paused to look out over the Third District and catch her breath. Her home, Madam Leone’s, the Silver Leaf pub where Miria worked… It all seemed so small from up here.
There would be no shame in turning back to it now. It would be safer. Easier.
And nothing would ever change.
She took a deep, shaky breath and turned to face the tall gate at the base of the watchtower that separated the two districts. As she approached, the two vampire guards who stood watch stepped forward to meet her.
“Stop right there.” The one on the left, a thick, muscular man with blond hair cut short, raised his arm to block her path.
“You shouldn’t be up here.” The second guard crossed his tattooed arms and glared down at her. “Go home.”
Azalea pulled her shoulders back and straightened up. “I’d like to go to the Blood Den.”
The two guards exchanged an amused glance.
“The Blood Den,” Azalea repeated. “In the Second District? I’d like to go there and—”
“We know what the Blood Den is, girl.”
The one with the tattoos chuckled. “You think you can handle it there?”
“Why don’t we try you out before you go?” A wicked grin spread across the other’s face. He dragged his gaze slowly up her body, stopping only once he reached her neck. “We can make sure you’ve got what it takes.”
“No.” Azalea put her hands on her hips, though the fluttering sensation in her stomach betrayed her confident stance. If they wanted to feed from her, her protests wouldn’t stop them.
The tattooed one scoffed. “Excuse me?”
“I said, no. You’re not going to try me out. Not without paying the proper fee at the Blood Den first. Once we get there…” She shrugged. “I guess then we can see.”
The blond guard laughed. “I think you’ll do just fine there.”
“Unfortunately,” the tattooed one said, shooting his partner a glare, “we don’t have anyone available to escort you right now.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” the blond said. “I’ll take her.”
“Not without someone to take your place at the gate, Darien. You know Lucian won’t like it.”
“Fuck what Lucian thinks.” The old gate creaked its resistance as Darien pushed it open and took Azalea’s hand. “Let’s go, then.”
He ignored his partner’s continued protests and pulled her through the well-lit cobblestone streets of the Second District. Everywhere she looked, both elves and vampires went about their business together. Even the elves were well-dressed in fine clothing that was fresh and clean. Their full cheeks and content expressions were so different from the gaunt faces she was used to seeing on those she knew, so different from the face she saw when she looked in the mirror.
Azalea wrapped her arms around herself to hide her crumpled tunic, which had once been white but was now a dull greyish brown. She didn’t expect the stares of pity and contempt from her fellow elves. Her cheeks burned.
Didn’t any of them remember what it was like to be in her position?
She kept her gaze cast downward as Darien led her through the Second District, through winding streets and back alleys, until finally, he stopped.
“We’ve arrived.”
Azalea looked up at the structure before her, a stone column formation that reached from the ground at her feet to the cavern’s ceiling far above. A clock face was carved into the stone on each side of the tower, large enough that they could be seen from anywhere in the city. Above the red door at the base of the clock tower was a glowing sign with the club’s name.
Blood Den.
Azalea pulled against the grip of the guard who held her, trying to back away from the building.
This was a mistake. She wasn’t ready for this—she shouldn’t have come.
The guard flashed a white grin that showed off his fangs. “What, regretting it already? You haven’t even gotten inside yet. Didn’t you promise me a bite if I paid the fee at the Den?”
She froze, and her
wide eyes met his.
“Don’t let them see that weakness here,” he whispered in her ear, his soft tone a mockery. “Or they’ll send you back to that shit hole forever, and I’ll never get my taste. That’s not what you want, is it?”
She shook her head. “Let me go. I’ll walk in.”
“Good girl.”
It took a moment for Azalea’s eyes to adjust to the dark room inside. The black walls had a subtle damask pattern in a dark grey. The only color in the room came from red velvet curtains that stretched from floor to ceiling behind a counter-height desk. The steady beat of music carried through the walls, promising something more exciting beyond.
An elven woman with gaudy earrings dangling from the points of her ears stepped out from behind the counter. Her hair was pinned up in large curls and accented by more jewelry that weaved through the dark strands and across her forehead.
She began to greet them, but her smile faded as she looked over Azalea. “You couldn’t have worn something more suitable for your first time here?”
Azalea wrapped her arms around herself again. “I’m sorry. These are the nicest clothes I own. I was hoping to buy something better after…after the first time.”
“I’m sure.” The woman crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the vampire. “I didn’t know you were recruiting for us, Darien.”
The guard who had accompanied her pushed up against her back, his breath a chill wind on the nape of her neck. “She came to us on her own.”
“When is the last time you bathed?” The woman walked around Azalea, continuing to evaluate her.
“I paid for one last night,” Azalea said. “After work. I always do.”
The woman hummed her approval, then took Azalea’s hand and examined her fingers. “And what do you do for work?”
“I work in a brothel.”
“Madam Leone’s?”
“Yes.”
The woman flung Azalea’s hand away as though she’d just learned it was diseased. “We’re not interested in Leone’s secondhand whores here. Go home.”
Heat rose in Azalea’s cheeks. “Working at Madam Leone’s means I have experience.”
“Experience opening your legs for dirty elven lads, maybe. The vampires here like their meals to be cleaner.”
Azalea looked to Darien for guidance. He offered nothing beyond staring back at her with cold disinterest. But then, he’d already given her his advice, hadn’t he?
Don’t let them see that weakness here.
He was a vampire, but he had once been a man, and that meant he spoke a language Azalea knew well.
She ran her fingers over his bicep and looked up at him through the strands of hair that had fallen in her face. “It’s a shame you won’t get that drink after all. I was looking forward to it.”
He said nothing, but his devious grin spoke the same praise as before. He reached around her and ran his hand up her body until it rested on her collarbone.
He was no different than any of the other men who’d laid their hands on her, she reminded herself. She’d offered her body hundreds of times, and this shouldn’t be any different.
Her body disagreed. Her flesh prickled at his touch, and every instinct within her screamed at her to run as fast and as far as she could.
“I’ll give her a try and let you know how she is, Sara.”
Sara. The woman behind the counter was Lilah’s sister. Was that why she had so much disdain for Madam Leone?
Sara scowled at Darien. “You know there are plenty of other girls here. Cleaner ones.”
“None who’ve yet to be bitten.” He dropped a fistful of gold coins on the counter. “I’ll be taking this one upstairs, and I’ll be the first to claim her vein.”
For a moment, it looked like Sara might argue, but then she sighed and gathered the coins from the counter. “Of course, sir. Whatever you’d like.”
Azalea ignored the heat from Sara’s glare as Darien led her through the curtain and into a wide room with a high ceiling. Men and women, a mixture of vampires and elves, relaxed on velvet couches and chairs, sharing drinks from the bar at the center of the room. A group played music on a small stage at the far end of the room, and female elves dressed in nothing but strategically placed jewels danced on poles on either side of them.
On a balcony that overlooked it all, a dark-haired man wearing a silver crown sat alone and unmoving.
Darien caught her staring and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Lord Nero Cineris, king of the city. He likes to come here and watch, but he never drinks here.”
“I know who he is,” Azalea murmured, unable to tear her eyes away from him. She’d just seen him that morning at the execution. She’d been terrified of him then. Now, though, he just looked bored.
The king dragged his gaze lazily across the room, pausing when his cold eyes met Azalea’s. For a moment, her heart stopped in her chest, and the overwhelming urge to flee kicked in once again. She lowered her gaze and positioned herself behind Darien so that his body was a shield from Lord Nero’s icy stare.
She followed Darien across the room and into a narrow, winding staircase that led up through the clock tower. As they ascended, they passed by several rooms, all with velvet curtains covering the doorways. When they reached a vacant room, Darien ushered her inside and pulled the curtain shut behind them. There was nothing in the room other than a bed with a leather upholstery frame that matched the couches downstairs and a pair of bedside tables with iron lamps lit dimly by leyline crystals.
Azalea sat down at the edge of the bed, folding her hands in her lap. Could the vampire hear her heart pounding? Could he sense the blood rushing through her veins?
Did he know how terrified she was?
He was upon her before she could react. With frightening swiftness, he threw her back on the bed and pressed down on her collarbone until she cried out in pain. Her yelp drew a smile from him, and he moved in even closer, hovering over her. “You’re afraid.”
“I’m not,” she breathed. She reached for the strings of her dress and unlaced it with shaky hands.
“No need to lie,” he whispered. “I know what you’re thinking. What will it feel like when I pierce that soft neck of yours for the first time?”
With one hand, he tore the tunic undershirt from her body, crumpling it like a napkin and tossing it aside.
The urge to flee overwhelmed her. She shoved at his chest. He was a mountain of muscle and fierce energy, unyielding against the weak breeze of her fists. She needed to get away from him, needed to get out of that room. She needed to get back home to the Third District and never return to the Blood Den.
This was a mistake.
“Where did my eager little snack go?” He chuckled darkly as she pushed harder against him. His knees dug into her legs, pinning her down. With one hand, he grabbed her wildly swinging wrists and held them down above her head.
Pain shot through her wrists as she pulled her arms as hard as she could. His grip didn’t budge, and her struggles accomplished nothing beyond causing her more pain.
Until this point, she’d been able to tell herself that he was just like any other man she’d lain with, that he was just one of the ones who took more control in the bedroom. But up close now, with his body pinned against hers, his pallid, tough skin betrayed his human appearance, and she could no longer ignore his utter lack of humanity.
“How will it feel to lie there completely powerless, knowing that if I get too thirsty, if I take too much, you will die?” He smiled again, his lip curling up to clearly display his dagger-sharp fangs.
He hovered above her for a few moments that felt like an eternity, relishing in her fear until she finally stopped her pointless struggling. Azalea trembled beneath him, her heart pounding in her chest.
She’d placed herself at the mercy of a monster.
&n
bsp; 4
Azalea squeezed her eyes shut as Darien leaned in close, scraping fangs against flesh. Her breaths came fast and heavy as she willed herself to stay still, to not fight back and hurt herself worse. This was what she’d come here for, and there was no backing out now.
The pinch of pain came in a sudden flash. Her cry froze in her throat. The pain turned to pleasure rushing through her body. Her limbs grew heavy, and she relaxed back on the bed.
Had she wanted to get away from him before? Why? She leaned her head to the side, offering him more of her neck. For all she cared in that moment, he could take all of it. Each breath she took escaped with a soft moan.
He pulled away from her, and warmth trickled down from her neck. He leaned closer and used his tongue to trace a line back up to her neck.
Her entire body shuddered with an intense tingling sensation unlike anything she’d felt before.
Darien licked once more, then pulled away, his movements slow and deliberate. He stood over her, watching. Waiting.
Azalea blinked away her clouded vision and lowered her hand, now free from his grip, to her neck. She looked at her fingertips, shocked to find they weren’t dripping with her own blood as she pulled them away. She explored the skin on her neck again, searching for his mark on her skin.
“It’s healed.” Darien’s voice lilted with satisfaction. “It won’t bother you at all. I’m not sure the same can be said for this, however.” He ran a finger along the tender skin on her wrists where he’d pinned her down.
Azalea attempted to push herself upright, but her limbs were too heavy. Her weak arms gave out beneath her, and she slumped back down into the silky sheets.
He pressed his hand against the base of her throat and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I hope to see you here again soon. I’d hate to have to come looking for you.” He dropped a handful of gold coins on the bed next to her and left her alone in the room.
Azalea lay in the bed, frozen in place by her tired body. She closed her eyes and rolled one of the small coins around in her fingers while she waited for her strength to return. A pleasant tingling sensation persisted in her body. Aside from Darien’s rough treatment of her, the feeding itself had felt incredible.
