I Let A Dying Vampire Drink My Blood — And Now His Grandfather Knows Everything

Part 1

I slammed the vampire guard against the brick wall, the sickening crack of bone lost under the heavy bass of the underground nightclub.

I had exactly one job in this miserable existence: protect Dan, the heir to the city’s most powerful vampire syndicate.

And I had failed him.

My wolf instincts surged, my claws extending as I tracked his metallic, cool scent through the sweat-soaked bodies on the dance floor.

The neon lights cast long, twisted shadows across the room, making it nearly impossible to see.

But my nose didn’t lie.

I found him slumped in a dimly lit VIP booth, surrounded by a circle of heavily armed rival vampires.

He looked impossibly pale, his usually sharp eyes vacant and dull.

Before I could tear their throats out, a deafening gunshot shattered the air.

The bullet missed me by a fraction of an inch, burying itself into the bar mirror behind my head.

Screams erupted from the dance floor.

My breath hitched and my chest tightened as a second gun was pointed directly between my eyes.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the burning impact of silver.

But the shot never came.

In fact, the screaming simply ceased.

The heavy techno music raged on, vibrating through the soles of my boots, but the club was dead silent.

I opened my eyes, my breath catching in my throat.

Every single person in the room was frozen in place.

Dancers were trapped mid-stride, bartenders were locked in pouring motions, and my attacker stood like a stone statue, his finger rigid on the trigger.

Dan stumbled out of the booth, dark blood dripping steadily from his nose.

“Let’s get out of here,” he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

He swayed on his feet, looking like a stiff breeze would snap him in half.

I stood rooted to the spot, my jaw dropping open at the terrifying reality of what I was witnessing.

He had compelled hundreds of people with a single, exhausted thought.

I didn’t know a vampire could possess that kind of earth-shattering power.

I rushed forward, throwing his heavy arm over my shoulder, and dragged him out of the frozen tomb.

By the time I shoved the key into the ignition of the armored SUV, he was coughing up black blood.

The rival syndicate hadn’t just kidnapped him.

They had poisoned him.

He slumped against the leather passenger seat, his ice-blue eyes slowly losing their light.

My hands trembled violently as I tore apart the glovebox and the center console for an emergency blood bag.

There was nothing.

He gave me a weak, accepting smile, the kind of smile that made my chest ache.

“It’s not your fault, Megan,” he whispered, his skin turning a horrifying, translucent grey.

He closed his eyes, his breathing slowing to a dangerous, jagged rhythm.

“Drink,” I ordered, shoving my bare wrist against his cold lips.

He didn’t react.

He was slipping away, right in front of me.

I didn’t think about the rules, or the boundaries, or the absolute taboo of a werewolf feeding a vampire.

I bit into my own forearm, tearing my own flesh until hot, coppery blood spilled freely down my skin.

I pressed my bleeding wound to his mouth, practically begging him to take it.

His eyes snapped open.

They were pitch black, consumed by an ancient, raw hunger that made my wolf whimper.

He seized my arm with bone-crushing force and sank his fangs deep into my veins.

I braced myself for the agonizing pain.

But the pain never came.

Instead, an intense, suffocating heat bloomed from his bite, flooding directly into my bloodstream.

Vampire venom.

No one ever warned me that it felt like liquid fire, melting away every inhibition, every rational thought I possessed.

A shameful, heavy moan tore from my throat.

My skin felt too tight, burning with an intoxicating, overwhelming need.

My inner wolf purred, leaning violently into his touch, practically begging him to take more.

He pulled away instantly, his dark eyes wide with shock as he wiped my blood from his chin.

“Megan?”

He asked, his voice rough.

But the venom was already coursing through me, leaving me pliant and reckless.

I threw myself at him, straddling his lap in the driver’s seat.

I pressed my lips to his neck, desperate to scent-mark him, desperate to claim him as mine.

“Megan, stop,” he groaned, his hands gripping my waist firmly to push me back.

“You’re high on the venom.

You don’t know what you’re doing.”

But I didn’t care.

I kissed him with six years of pent-up desperation, trying to erase the agonizing memories of my past.

He carried me upstairs to my bedroom, his jaw tight with extreme restraint.

He laid me on the mattress, pulled the heavy duvet over my burning body, and stepped back.

“Sleep it off,” he ordered softly, disappearing into the dark hallway.

When I woke up the next morning, the intoxicating haze of the venom had cleared.

I pulled my knees to my chest, burying my burning face into the duvet.

I had sexually harassed my boss.

I had practically begged him to take me, and he had declined, treating me like a delusional liability.

My fingers dug violently into the mattress, my shoulders curling inward.

Before I could even formulate a pathetic apology, my bedroom door swung open.

The head housekeeper stood there, her face a mask of utter disgust.

“Get dressed immediately,” she snapped, her tone dripping with venom.

“Craig is waiting for you in the main study.”

My stomach plummeted into my shoes.

Craig wasn’t just Dan’s grandfather.

He was the terrifying overlord of the entire vampire faction.

I dragged myself down the sprawling marble staircase, convinced I was walking straight to my execution.

I pushed open the heavy oak doors, trembling like a frightened pup.

Craig stood by the massive arched window, his hands clasped behind his back.

He turned around, his ancient, predatory eyes locking onto mine.

He told me he had reviewed the security footage from last night, and what he saw left him with only one choice.