7. Xeraphine

7

Xeraphine

I t's been two weeks since I've fed, and I'm more frustrated than I think I've ever been. I couldn't have been more excited for this date, and while the guy in front of me is shorter than I am and smells like gym socks, I'll be more than happy to feast on him later. Maybe he will surprise me and be a short king. Something tells me otherwise though, especially since I can see his stained tongue every time he takes a drink.

"I have to ask," he finally changes the subject away from cars, and while I'd rather him just shut up, I'm pleased in some sense, "why is someone like you," he gestures at me with his index finger that's holding the glass, "on a dating app? How, not that I'm complaining, thank the Vayl for it, are you single?"

Crossing my legs, I adjust my skirt. "Guess I'm picky," my girlish giggle is enough to play it off as a joke. Even if I wasn't a deranged murderer seeking revenge, there is absolutely no one in this world that could keep me settled. Just the thought of feasting on the same person for eternity makes the sparkling wine taste like piss.

"Is that so?" The way he smiles at me then makes me feel a bit queasy. Like he understands I'm a challenge and wants to give it a try.

Giving a gentle smile, I turn away as though in thought. Truthfully, I just need a moment to not make a smart remark .

The restaurant at least is lavish, and if I were a gold-digging slut, I'd be eating this right up.

We are on the first floor of the restaurant, our table situated against the patio overlooking the coastline. The one-way street between us and the sandy shore isn't very busy, which would be nice if I truly was taking in the romance of this date. I don't like many things, but the smell of the sea definitely stirs something within me. If only my means allowed, I'd eagerly choose residence in one of the apartments closest to the waterfront.

The waitress pulls my attention, setting down our appetizer: oysters and breadsticks. My date will definitely be brushing his teeth before those lips come anywhere near mine. Especially that tongue…

Just as I'm about to begin dining on the unappetizing dish in front of me, a sultry voice slithers into my ear.

"Cheating on me, huh?"

I don't think I've ever felt my heart skip a beat before. Nothing physically hits me, but I swear my breath is knocked from my lungs.

I drag my gaze back out toward the patio, and I swear I could unleash Belial himself with how much anger writhes through my body at seeing him.

A grin revealing his sharpened canines adorns Kairhyse's face as he leans in, mere inches from my own. "So, this is why you aren't answering my calls," he declares with a voice so remarkably deep, carrying with it a subtle accent—or perhaps, one that has begun to fade over time. It retains a formality and authority that, I can imagine, he wields like a weapon, capable of compelling anyone to get on their knees before him.

I would get down on my knees for him, but only to confirm that he is dead.

"Couldn't take the hint, I see," I remark, determined to contain my anger. "The restraining order means nothing to you, huh?" My lips press tightly together, a subtle twitch betraying the effort to restrain my emotions. As his gaze shifts downward, a filthy smirk replaces his playful, toothy one, prompting me to count my fingers in a desperate attempt to prevent myself from succumbing to the urge to punch him.

"Uh, Xeraphine?"

I swallow, Gods damn it. Not my name—Kit!

"Ah, my dear Xeraphine," Kairhyse purrs, and I swear my cunt winks. "Let's not play this game, you know damn well the court didn't find you in favor. You were the one that hit me, remember?"

This piece of shit.

Releasing a shaky breath, I turn toward my date, finding an all-too-familiar expression on his face. I can tell I've lost him, and all the time invested in that accursed app seems to have gone down the drain.

"Kit, he's a crazy ex. I'll call the authorities to come get him—"

"Don't bother." He looks over at Kairhyse, "I don't do drama. You're hot, but, I've had hotter."

Cock-blocked twice by this guy. I honestly can't believe it. Not once has he emerged from the shadows since our encounter at the nightclub and now, of all times, he wants to fuck with me!

Kit stands and tosses down his napkin, "Plus, a Vampire? I thought you said you'd only been with Shifters in your bio."

I'm not sure if I'm more upset that he didn't find me worth fighting over, or that I'm going to end up having to figure out how to pay for this meal. The wine alone probably costs more than a single night's pay from the bar.

I groan as he walks away, and I grab my glass. Might as well finish off the bottle since now I'll have to pay for it anyway.

Kairhyse hums, and I do my best to ignore him.

"I'm not a fan of oysters," he croons. "He has bad taste in food, equally so in women. I may have just saved his worthless life."

Why the fuck is he still here?

I toss back the rest of the glass, grab the bottle, and pour until it nearly overflows.

"Xeraphine…" he draws out my name, and I give him an irritated glance. "I'm going to sit across from you now, and we're going to have a chat."

The twitch in my nose is involuntary, "I'd rather eat my own tit, fuck off!"

He sucks air in through his teeth and leans back. "I wasn't actually asking." With that, he takes a single step to his left and leaps gracefully into the restaurant.

I observe the subtle flex of his chest at even the simplest of movements, the fabric of his shirt straining against the force, and I feel a surge of frustration reaching an unexpected peak .

Fuck a heartthrob, this guy is a pussy-throb. Damn this accursed Amoro, sometimes.

"Your shirt," I remark, my voice carrying a calculated edge, "It's too small. Do you shop in the kids section?" There's an intentional sting in my words, a need to find a vulnerability amid the impressive physique he boasts.

As he sits, he laughs, "Cute."

Damn he's tall. I hadn't realized just how much so until I compared him to the shorty that just left.

"You made quite the mess of my partner," he continues, slightly leaning over the table. "I should really be pissed off at you."

"Then be so," I retort briskly, my lips pressing against the rim of my glass as I take another sip.

The prospect that my foul mouth excites him fills me with a strange excitement of my own. I can practically smell his arousal every time I let loose with my sharp tongue.

Yet, beneath the thrill, there's a tinge of frustration. Knowing that he revels in it means I'll need to work even harder to push him to the point of leaving me alone.

Wait, fuck, I have to kill him. Tiresome .

As he opens his mouth, I interject, cutting him off before he can utter another foolish remark. "Why are you stalking me?"

"You have been causing a lot of trouble." He aimlessly picks at the bread. "As I said in the alleyway, you fucked up and got caught. Now, you need to answer to Hause Sidence, specifically, Achille."

I huff and roll my eyes, "Such big talk for someone that hides in the shadows."

Leaning back, I wrap an arm around my waist, and his gaze trails down my shirt. I decided to wear one with a plunging neckline, leaving nothing to the imagination. The deep cut reveals the slightest hint of my areola. With my arm positioned beneath my breasts, I intentionally bounce them, challenging him, "Like what you see?"

"I do," he answers honestly, and truthfully, I'm shocked. "But that doesn't take away from what you are, and what I'll need to do to you. "

A laugh bubbles out of my lips, and despite my efforts to suppress it, it proves impossible. "Okay," I say, the sarcasm in my tone prompting his eyebrow to raise. "You and your partner could barely keep yourselves alive—oh wait, sorry, he didn't survive. I guess I should say, ex-partner. Pray tell… What do you think you'll be doing to me?"

It's painfully obvious I'm not going to fluster him.

"First, I'm going to punish that little mouth of yours for talking to me that way." I roll my eyes so far into the back of my head I nearly get dizzy. So unoriginal. "Then, I'm going to take you to Achille. Whatever he decides to do with you after that, I couldn't care less."

After taking another sip, I set down my glass. "You've probably played out this scenario in your head a dozen times, haven't you?" I can see, from the corner of my eye, the waitress coming back toward us. "Thinking I'd say something like ‘I'd like to see you try' or some cliché shit like that."

"Were the oysters not to your liking, ma'am? Did… Oh!" My gaze shifts from Kairhyse to the pretty waitress holding tightly onto her round tray. She is staring at the Vampire, enamored by him, her flat cheeks darkening as she addresses him, "I—do you need anything? We have type O, positive and negative. Along with AB, positive only. Sorry for that if it's an inconvenience."

"I'll—"

"Actually, he already ate, sweetheart, and you see." I place my hand onto her forearm, drawing her attention to me. "When Vampires get too full, they can cause a scene. This restaurant is beautiful, and, being Mundane, I'm merely unable to keep him under control."

My eyes convey a subtle yet poignant expression of pain, prompting her to shift her gaze with an air of sympathy. "I've tried," my forced tone carrying a weight of feigned struggle.

Observing her swallow before diverting her gaze to Kairhyse, she promptly makes her exit.

"Could've used that glass," he remarks, and I shrug my shoulders. "She will probably call the authorities." His tone laced with boredom, as if what I did truly didn't affect him.

As our gazes lock once again, I huff a breath through my nose. I am done with this conversation. I need to get home and figure out how I am going to get another in with the Ansford Hause, now that Kairhyse has screwed me over once again.

He stands, and I reach down into my purse lazily hanging from the edge of my chair.

His warm breath tickles my ear, "You'll have to feed at some point." I lean slightly to turn and meet his gaze. "You haven't since we met, and I know enough about your kind to understand you'll be... in need, soon." One of his hands is tucked into his pocket, the other casually resting on the back of my chair.

I am hungry, and his scent of cinnamon is intoxicating. I'm pretty sure my mouth is watering.

"I'll manage," I say, placing my hand onto his chest, pushing him back.

He is undeniably bold, I'll give him that. Without so much as stepping away, he bravely brings his hand up and rests it under my chin. My gaze travels along his arm, taking in the black-ink tattoos that stretch from his fingers all the way to his elbow, where his scrunched-up black shirt begins.

"I enjoy the chase. It's why I haven't told Achille I've caught the killer yet."

"You haven't caught jack-shit, Vampire. You're lucky I have business in this city." I'm tempted to spit on him, but I refuse to offer more than my first name and scent. Giving DNA to a Vampire? That's pure idiocy. "I've killed in public places before." I bring my hand up to his wrist and pull it away. "Don't see my restraint as anything other than for my own good."

With an eager smile, I watch as his fangs elongate.

Oh, what I wouldn't give for him to bite me. I'd be bringing him down to his knees so quick his head would separate itself.

"Do it, make my fucking night, Kairhyse…"

As though understanding my threat, he closes his lips but retains the smile that lingers there. Leaning in, his breath fans against my cheek as he whispers, "I'll get the bill, little demon."