Excerpt of Thirst

Thane

My mouth feels dry, so I take another sip out of the tumbler. The golden liquid catches the light of the fire. The whisky burns its way down my throat, only serving to add to my thirst. I frown as I reach down to toss another log into the diminishing flames. I lick my lips.

Fuck!

It's been a long, hard week. I need to cut myself some slack. Leaning back in the leather armchair, I pull my cellphone from the inside of my breast pocket and start to scroll through my list of contacts. I sigh, looking up at the ceiling. Perhaps a blood bag would be the better way to go. I sigh again. I fucking hate the taste of anticoagulants. There is something about the way blood tastes fresh out of the vein. It's warm…slightly salty…even a touch on the sweet side if you pick the right donor. Salty, sweet, warm. My fangs extend over my bottom lip, and a low growl percolates in my chest.

I'm thirsty!

There's nothing else to it. I swallow down the rest of my whisky. There are two guards outside my door. More are patrolling my sprawling grounds.

I can hear the steady beats of each of their hearts. How the blood rushes through their veins.

Not sweet.

Not enticing at all.

In a pinch, I might go there. I'm not in a pinch. Fuck that! There's nothing sweet about the males of our species. So, I keep scrolling through the contacts on my phone. I want blood…straight from the vein. It must be sweet. I don't want to have to fuck afterward, though. Not tonight. Come to think of it, I haven't been tempted in a long while. I'm tired. Stressed. It's been a long, hard bitch of a week and an even longer bitch of a year.

There's a vampire messing with humans in New Orleans. Drinking from them. Mixing with them. Breaking every fucking rule in the book. Nearly drank a woman dry two nights back. So far, the media has been portraying it as someone having a psychotic episode. They don't know the truth. Humans must never find out that there are monsters living among them. Right under their noses. That's why we have rules. To stay hidden. To keep from being persecuted.

Supernaturals do not mingle with humans…ever. We stay firmly under the radar. Break the rules and pay the price. The price being death, with very rare exceptions. Every now and then, someone goes rogue, and we put them down. That's the way of it.

My lips are fucking dry. My throat a desert. Who can blame me for feeling this touchy? Why can't the covens just live in peace for a change?

It's particularly bad in the south of the country. I wouldn't mind if it stayed among our own kind, but sometimes humans get caught in the crossfire. It happened earlier tonight. Two humans died.

Fuck my life!

Blood will make me feel marginally better. It always does. I finally settle on a cellphone number. I'm playing it safe. Choosing my PA, Colette. She won't push me for sex, or anything else, for that matter. Vampires normally drink two or three times a week out of necessity. Anything more is considered drinking for pleasure. If I contact anyone else, the latter would be assumed. Colette will understand.

Thane: I'm thirsty. Can you help out?

I've never been one to beat around the bush. Life is too short for that crap. Even the extended life of a vampire.

Colette: You're hungry? Already? I thought you drank last night?

I smile. It's fleeting. Colette is one of the few people in my life who stands up to me…I like it. I like her and trust her, hence choosing her to help out. I know this is coming from a place of concern rather than judgment.

Thane: It's the stress! How soon can you be here?

It is the goddamn stress. It builds and builds. It gets too much. Overtakes a person. It makes me twitchy…thirsty.

Colette: I'm already in my car. Five minutes.

I smile; this time, it lingers. I stand and pour myself another three fingers of whisky, already feeling better now that I know that Colette is on her way. I fire off a quick text to Vincent, telling him to expect my PA and giving him permission to let her straight through. He responds with a thumbs up. He's a vampire of few words, which suits me just fine. As long as he gets the job done.

I pace in front of the fire. The whisky is long gone by the time Colette breezes into my study.

"This is unlike you, my Lord," she says without preamble.

I shrug. Shit happens. "You can drop the ‘my Lord' crap." I don't respond further to her comment. Instead, I remove my cufflinks, placing them on the desk. Then I unbutton my shirt cuffs and roll up my sleeves.

Colette pulls in a breath. She isn't wearing makeup. Her hair is slightly tousled, telling me that I probably got her out of bed or off the sofa.

"Neck or arm?" she asks drolly.

"Arm is fine," I say. "Thank you for coming."

"I'm worried." Her eyes dart across my face.

"I'm fine. I'm sure you have somewhere you want to be," I tell her. "Let's get this over with. You may drink from me." I'm not sure why I've offered. It's unorthodox. Colette is one of my staff members. One of my coven and subjects. She bows to me. I have every right to take. To demand, without having to explain or to offer anything in return, and yet here I am holding out my wrist.

Her eyes flare with shock, which quickly turns to confusion. This isn't like me. None of it is.

Fuck it! I grab her wrist and sink my fangs into her, going deeper than I intended. Proving a point? Maybe.

Colette gasps as I begin to suck greedily. All three boxes are being ticked. Salty, warm, sweet.

Tick!

Tick!

Tick!

Fuck! This is just what I needed. The blood is soothing every jangled nerve. More! I want a bigger vein. I release her arm and go for the jugular.

A strangled cry is torn from her, and Colette's hands fist my shirt.

"My Lord!" She sounds panicked. I'm not sure why.

I keep drinking.

"Thane!" she yells. Her hands are now pushing at me.

Why all the drama? I'm nearly done. Nearly at my fill. Why then are my fangs lengthening even further? My eyes are open and focused. I sense my irises have shrunk to pinpricks. I can pick out each individual fiber that makes up the drapes. I know my eyes will be glowing red. Those snarls are coming from me. They're loud, like a caged beast. My nails have lengthened and are digging into her flesh, holding her to me.

Colette is screaming. I can't let go. I'm holding her tighter. Drinking faster. I can't stop! I—

Her scream fades just as the door to the study slams open. My guards burst in. Xander staggers back.

"Sire?" His face has morphed to shock.

I suck but get nothing…nothing. I drop Colette, who falls at my feet, vacant eyes staring. I feel the blood dripping from my mouth.

"You killed her," Vincent says from behind Xander.

Warm blood drips down my chin. I look down at Colette, my blood running cold as realization dawns. I'm still thirsty. I drained Colette dry, and yet… Using my finger, I drag the dripping blood to my mouth and suck up the remnants.

Is this what I think it is?

If so, I'm fucked!

I drop to my knees and cradle Colette's head. Even now, I'm shaking with the need for more blood.

"What have I done?" I murmur.

I'm a monster!

A fucking monster.

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