B Positive by Jewel Killian

Twenty-Two

I woke with a start,dreaming about a threesome between Wesley Snipes, Diana Ross, and the actor who played Wesley Wyndam-Price, thanks to work still percolating in the back of my mind. I stretched, rolled over, and glanced out the window. Blue-black sky greeted me, and judging by the sluggish, disconnected buzz in my brain, I’d say I slept the whole day and into the night.

My phone sat on the cold hunk of white marble serving as a bedside table, which I’d been too tired to notice when I’d crashed this morning, but now…well, I hated it. Everything in the room, from the white carpet and bed linens, the crisp white paint, and gauzy white drapes, screamed that whoever had chosen it had absolutely no personality and picked white because white was classy.

White was also clinical and cold and how could anyone live with all white everything?

I mean, what if I got my period, or spilled my wine?

I picked up my phone and glanced at the seventeen texts from Jaxson, the gist of which were, he hated the bar almost as much as I hated this room.

You owe me so big, Eeds. People suck.

Except this one who looks like he could suck-start a lawnmower and tipped me fifty on a ten dollar tab.

I chucked and shot him a quick, Be safe, before getting ready for the day. Jaxson would collect on the debt in the most uncomfortable way possible.

Like introducing him at his drag debut. God, that was nerve-wracking. Public speaking? Not for me, not since that horrendous speech class that was supposedly an easy A on my transcript.

I shook off that sweat-inducing memory and checked my phone again.

At least it was still Friday. I had worked straight through from Tuesday night to early Friday morning without stopping. No wonder I had a freak-out and scared poor Sunny.

I’d have to be more careful. And I’d have to make sure to ration my blood intake again, just to be safe.

Speaking of blood…

That was the only redeeming thing about this room.

On the wall next to the door hung a huge shelving unit made of tall, narrow, cup-sized cubbies. And inside those cubbies were not just the cups Julian had given me blood in, but every Starbucks seasonal collection cup from the last three years.

It was a lot of fucking cups.

I kind of loved it.

I’d never bought Starbucks. Never made room in my budget for six-dollar coffees. But I’d coveted those pretty cups for I don’t know how long. I’d see people walking with them, or coming out of the cafe sipping on them. They were always in cupholders in people’s cars and there were at least three girls in my morning classes who came in holding them every day.

They were a little piece of consumerism that I’d never let myself partake in but always wanted to.

And now I had a literal wall full of them.

I’d have to remember to ask Julian how he’d gotten his hands on so many. Oh, who was I kidding? He was a king with depthless resources. He could have whatever he wanted gift wrapped and delivered to his house in under an hour.

The better question was why.

After showering and picking my outfit for the day—ripped jeans and a work halter—I grabbed the smallest cup I could find—a purple glittery one that wasn’t that small—and went downstairs.

On my way to the kitchen I passed by the formal dining room, where Julian sat at the head of an enormous, twelve-person dining table, in front of a steak dinner and a large glass of red wine.

That room, unlike the others on this floor, leaned into the tropey vampire aesthetic. The wood table had been stained black and polished to a gleaming finish. The bloodred seats of the carved chairs matched the rich matte walls.

Over the center of the table hung an iron chandelier with curling stems and florets adorning each arm.

It was totally over the top and yet, it was still way better than the blindingly white room I’d been remanded to.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, debating whether to confront him and ask him what he expected of me if this mate thing took.

But apparently lingering in doorways in front of a vampire king wasn’t as sneaky as I thought because his gaze met mine the moment I set foot in the room.

A smile lit his face as our gazes locked. Almost as if he was happy to see me. “Eden, I see you’ve finally come up for air.”

I nodded, but instead of basking in the warm rush of being close to him, I grabbed at the wall, overcome with a spinny head once again. Worse, this one came with nausea.

Do not puke on the vampire king, Eden. Do not puke on him!!

In a blur, Julian was at my side, guiding me toward one of the high-backed dining chairs. “Are you all right?” He stood so close, his voice caressed my ear and I would have enjoyed the sensation if I weren’t so focused on not throwing up. “Here,” he said and handed me an iridescent pink cup, taking the empty purple one I held.

I plopped into the chair. “I don’t know what’s going on with me,” I murmured around the straw before taking the first sip of delicious, spicy blood. Its warmth spread through me like a shot of light or energy, chasing away the wooziness.

“Well, Sunny said you worked without stopping for days on end. You’re overtaxed.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t that.

I’d thought the same before I’d crashed for eight hours—that I was just overworked. But waking up with pillow creases on my forehead and dried slobber on my chin meant that didn’t work as an excuse anymore. “I’m a vampire, for Christ’s sake. I’ve got more stamina than Olympic athletes. I think there’s something else going on.” I stared up at him, not bothering to hide how scared I was. “Can vampires get sick? Is there like, I dunno, a blood disease or something?”

Julian did his best not to look condescending. “We heal too fast to contract diseases. Anything we can’t heal quickly, or that causes too much pain, we call in a healer for and they take care of it. Should I call you a healer?”

“No.” Yes? Maybe?

“You seem worried. Maybe just to clear your mind?”

“Yeah, okay.”

In seconds Julian had his phone out, texted someone, and slid his phone away. “The on-site healer will arrive shortly.”

Of course a healer lived in the compound. I don’t know why I expected anything less.

“You know, I tried to visit between rounds at the negotiating table, but when I saw you huddled around the Stanislovski 34-Z, hair up and concentrating, I thought it better not to break your focus.”

He’d seen me working? Ugh, I hoped my focus face wasn’t too stupid. I could just imagine him seeing me, tongue out, brow creased, flyaways flying…

But also…

He wanted to visit me?

My stomach fluttered at the thought, bottoming out somewhere near my ankles.

Jeez, get it together, Eden.

“How are the negotiations going?” I asked as he pulled out a chair next to me, abandoning his meal at the far end of the table.

The green in his hazel eyes caught the light of the chandelier above and twinkled with glee. “Complete. I did my best to position us well.”

“So who goes first?”

“He does. We’re hosting him here in one week.”

Fuck, next week?That was so soon. That left me zero time to fortify Julian’s safes.

A good safecracker wasn’t only good at busting open safes. I could add enough booby traps, trip wires, and decoys to Julian’s Lola model to keep someone busy at least until the heavy hitters—aka BDD—showed up.

Which reminded me… “Um, you know the Tzarina’s Diamond is still in my studio, right? We should get it back here and in your safe before someone discovers it.”

“Actually, I was planning on leaving it there.”

I caught him with a savage glare. “You cannot keep your priceless family heirloom in my shitty-ass apartment, Julian. Do you know how many break-ins we get a month?”

“From what I understand, not that many after you moved in.”

Well, he had a point there. “Okay, but what about the rules? Doesn’t the diamond have to be somewhere the other clan is allowed to go? And doesn’t the clan only have permission to be in the compound? They can’t just roam the cove freely, can they?”

“No, they cannot. But the building belongs to me and I filed necessary paperwork to name it as one of my satellite offices. If Titus’s people figure out the diamond isn’t here, they aren’t going to know which of my other buildings it’s in. And if they happen to know I just purchased your building, they’d never think I’d keep something so precious in a place so outwardly unfit.”

I stared at him as his words smashed into me like two frat brothers chest-bumping after a winning round of corn hole. Someone always ended up on the ground or had to reorder their beer. Always.

I mean, props for out-of-the-box problem solving. I wouldn’t have thought to keep my loot off the premises to keep it safe from a rival, but hey, I guess that’s why he was the king. I stared at him, the new information putting a bad taste in my mouth.

Even though I was unsure about this whole mate bond thing, the fact that he hadn’t let me have the diamond as some secret symbol of our “meant-to-be-ness” or because he’d accepted the mate bond and was willingly sharing his fortune really pissed me the fuck off.

Did I have a right to feel that way? Absolutely not.

In fact, I hadn’t even known I’d harbored those ridiculous delusions until Julian stated his true motivations.

Didn’t stop me from feeling it, though.

I let out a huff of a sigh. He just wanted a nice place to hide it.

“Are you feeling poorly again? You look—” Julian didn’t finish his sentence.

“You know I can only read your, shall we say, more lascivious thoughts. If something is wrong, Eden, you need to tell me. I cannot pry it from your mind.”

Hmrph. Not yet, at least. Who knew how deep the mate bond thing went? Maybe after we’d completed all the stages, he’d know every passing thought I had.

I didn’t get the option to linger on it further because Julian stood abruptly as the healer, who didn’t bother addressing him properly or fully, entered. He didn’t even bow. Instead, he gave Julian a single head nod and got right to business.

I might like this guy.

“Hello, Ms. Vaughn. I’m Wes. How are you feeling today?”

“No fucking way! Your name’s Wesley?”

Wes was a tall, older vampire who looked like he could have walked right off the set of Grey’s Anatomy.

He wasn’t my cup of tea at all, but he was hot in a dirty, dad-bod kind of way.

“Er…it is.” He gave me a quick smile and then dutifully cast a glance at Julian.

“Sorry, I’ve just run into a lot of Wesleys lately.”

Again, his gaze darted behind me to Julian’s. So I stood, putting myself between him and the king of vampires. And when I’d drawn his attention fully, I started talking. “I’ve been getting the spins lately.”

He nodded. “I see. And when does it normally seem to happen?”

That, I couldn’t answer. There wasn’t a particular situation that coincided with the spinny head. “I’m not sure. It seems random.”

He nodded again and fiddled around in the brown leather satchel he carried. “And how much blood are you drinking on average?”

“Um, a lot.”

“What is a lot to you, Ms. Vaughn?”

I did some quick Starbucks math—venti cups, three times a day… “Uh, about sixty ounces.”

His gray eyes shot up to stare at me. “A day?” he asked, not bothering to conceal his surprise.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Ms. Vaughn, that is well over the recommended amount of blood for a single vampire. You’re undoubtedly experiencing the beginning stages of bloodlust.”

His words ripped through me, sucking all the air from me, from the room. The vacuum pressed in close as I sank into the chair I’d just risen from.

I tried to steady my breathing as my thoughts whirled.

It couldn’t be that. It just couldn’t be. I’d worked so hard to curb those urges. Plus, I hadn’t compelled anyone except Douche Canoe Chad. So how could it be that?

My shoulders sank, heavy with the weight of the truth.

Because even as I denied it to myself, I knew the healer was right.

I knew the symptoms. God, did I know them.

I’d chosen to believe it was something else.

“This is my fault,” Julian said to Wes. “We’re in the midst of a mating bond.”

“Oh, oh, I see. Well, that does change things.”

My head snapped up, eyes darting to each of them. “What? What does it change?” I asked.

The healer spoke right over my head. “I’d recommend cutting her portion down, slowly at first, until it’s more in line with what’s typical.”

Julian nodded.

“Hey, no talking about me like I’m not here!”

Julian gave Wes a wink and a nod. “I think I’ve got it from here. Thank you for coming by, Wes.”

Wait. What the fuck?“Hey, no. You can’t leave just because he says so. Answer my question, please. What does being mated mean for my bloodlust issue?”

The healer smiled at me. “You’ll figure it out,” he said, and walked out of the dining room.

I stared at Julian, expecting him to call the healer back, but he didn’t. The jerk just sat there watching my brain explode.

“What the fuck is going on, Julian?”

It happened so fast I couldn’t control it, couldn’t stop it if I wanted to.

Not that I wanted to.

Thick, choking plumes of alpha vampire dominance spread throughout the room, darkening the space and making Julian’s breath catch in his throat.

“There you are,” he rumbled, gazing down at me as my power forced him to back away.