Chapter 6: Greer

Chapter Six

Greer

M y stomach rumbles, feeling emptier than it has yet. It leads to an anger that I don’t know how to control. It’s terrifying. I’ve always been a happy, go-with-the-flow kind of fae. However, anger and hatred burn so hot in my chest that I’m a little afraid of who I’m becoming as a vampire.

I stumble in the front door, probably looking drunk. My back lands against the frame as my chest heaves. Cole really needs to pay for his actions, but in the meantime, if I want to live, I’ve got to figure out this feeding situation.

Seiran comes around the corner from the formal living room with his wings fluttering behind him. His clawed hands rest against his muscular stomach, and my eyes bug when I spot the knitting needles. Those might be crochet hooks. I don’t have the first clue.

“You look like you had a rough night,” he says softly. “Can I interest you in a drink?”

My mouth pools with saliva, and my vision goes hazy.

Oh, shit.

Tell me my eyes aren’t going milky white like a vampire’s.

My head shakes, trying to will away the change. “Listen, I’m not heartless, but this has gone on long enough. I need you to find other living arrangements, ASAP. This is my home.”

“And I was crocheting you a blanket.” He huffs, and his tail coils around his front to shake the bottom of the pattern he’s busy working on. “Your granny taught me. It’s very relaxing. You should consider taking up the hobby. Or even one of your own. You seem stressed. I’ve heard painting and yoga are excellent for lowering stress.”

“You are impossible to deal with.” I cross my arms over my chest, and my keys jingle. “You can’t just claim a house that isn’t yours.”

He shrugs a shimmery shoulder. “Take that up with the town council.”

I stamp my foot against the floor like a toddler. I can’t interact with the council, but there’s no way for him to know how frustrating his comment is when I’m literally trapped because of my situation.

With a grunt, I aim for the stairs. “I’m going to hire a priest for an exorcism.”

“Good luck finding one willing to enter Black Cove,” he calls out, sounding a little too jolly.

I’m going to snap before long.

I wake up surrounded by the massive king-size blanket that I covered myself in before falling asleep this morning.

My life is shit.

I downgraded from an apartment in Haven that I loved to sleeping in my Grandma’s musty closet, just to ensure I don’t burn to a crisp.

This leads to a very cranky version of myself sauntering into the kitchen.

I didn’t know vampires could experience aches and pains, but after another night spent on the wooden floor, I now understand—we can.

My nose twitches at the scent of some type of meat cooking on the stove. It turns my stomach. Even before I was changed, I didn’t consume meat. That’s likely thanks to my fae heritage. It’s just never been appealing to my senses.

I stagger away from the potent smell.

“I made you chicken Alfredo.” Seiran glances over his shoulder at me, and his brow furrows. “I was hoping we could sit and come to some type of agreement.”

I frown. “This isn’t your house. I’m not going to let you take it from me because you made me a meal.”

He flicks off the burner, moving the pan to the back. “Do you have fangs, little human?”

My hand flies to cover my mouth as my foot bounces against the floor.

Dammit.

He moves ridiculously fast and comes to a stop right in front of me.

“You do,” he muses. “How fascinating.” His nose dances through my hair as he gets close to my throat. “I thought you were human, but up close, you smell like a vampire.”

My heart races.

Can he not scent my siren blood?

Is it more muted now that I’m a vampire? Maybe I won’t need some expensive spell, after all. Or maybe he’s just distracted.

“Why would you try to feed me dead flesh with noodles?” I counter, but I realize quickly that’s a question a human would never ask.

“It was my attempt at being polite.” He grins quite charmingly. “I’ve never had a companion complain about my cooking until now, but I also didn’t realize you had been turned.”

I jab a finger at his sturdy chest. “You can’t stay here.”

“Sure I can,” he says as his wings flap, carrying him over to the stove. “I think I’ll take this over to the neighbors, since you won’t be partaking.”

“Good plan.” I huff. “Ask them if they need a roommate.” I spin around to head back upstairs.

“You are cute,” he calls after me.

Cute, my ass .

If he keeps taunting me, I’ll pounce and drink him dry. Then, maybe, he’ll reincarnate in hell.

Ha.

That would serve him right.