20. Kim

Chapter 20

Kim

T he Crimson Moon isn't the kind of place I usually frequent, but tonight, I need information more than I need sleep. The bar caters to Cambridge's supernatural crowd - a dingy, underground joint where vampires, werewolves, and other creatures of the night can drink without fear of exposure.

I push through the heavy wooden door, immediately assaulted by the smell of stale beer and something metallic that I try not to think too hard about. The bar is dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls from flickering candles. It's busy for a weeknight, a low hum of conversation punctuated by occasional bursts of laughter.

I make my way to the bar, sliding onto a stool and catching the bartender's eye. He's a tall, lean man with unnaturally pale skin and eyes that gleam red in the low light. Definitely a vampire. Thankfully, he doesn't know what I am.

"What'll it be?" he asks, voice gravelly.

"Whiskey, neat," I reply, trying to look like I belong here.

As he pours my drink, I casually glance around the room. There's a mix of patrons - some clearly vampires, others with the wild, barely contained energy of werewolves. In the corner, a group of what look like witches huddle over a table, whispering intently.

The bartender slides my drink over. I take a sip, letting the burn of the alcohol steady my nerves.

"You're new here," the bartender says. It's not a question.

I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. "Just passing through. Heard this was the place to be if you're... not exactly human."

He nods slowly, eyes narrowing slightly. "That it is. Though things have been a bit unsettled lately."

I raise an eyebrow, feigning casual interest. "Oh? How so?"

The bartender leans in, lowering his voice. "Word is, there's been a change in management. The old boss who ran the FHB trade? Gone. Poof." He snaps his fingers for emphasis.

"Really?" I take another sip of whiskey. "Any idea who's taken over?"

He shakes his head. "That's the thing. No one knows. But whoever it is, they're shaking things up. Prices are up, quality's down, and there's talk of expanding beyond Cambridge."

I frown, processing this information. "Sounds like bad news for everyone."

The bartender nods grimly. "You have no idea. Last guy who asked too many questions about it? Found him drained dry in an alley."

A chill runs down my spine, but I keep my face neutral. "Thanks for the heads up. I'll keep that in mind."

As I finish my drink, a commotion breaks out near the door. Two vampires, young and clearly high on FHB, are arguing loudly. The bartender sighs, moving out from behind the bar to deal with it.

I take the opportunity to slip away, my mind racing. A new boss, expanding operations, and willing to kill to keep it quiet?

After what Lucien did to the queen, who would dare to challenge him? And how does Luna fit into it?

I really should sleep. But I know all that will happen if I go home now will be a restless night, thoughts tumbling. I also know that if I go home, I'll start thinking about Sarah.

By the time I reach the mansion, it's morning. I didn't go home, but I did drive around the city trying to sift through the mess of thoughts in my head.

I text Lucien several times with no reply, which is unusual given that he's usually awake all night. But perhaps not unusual given that he has Luna to occupy him.

When I buzz the gate, there is no answer. So, I abandon the Volvo and climb over the wall.

If you'd told me a year ago, when I was working for a regular marketing firm in the city center, still pretending to be a regular human, that I'd be strong enough or brave enough to scale the wall of a vampire's mansion, I'd have laughed.

It took me a long time to accept my destiny. And I hate that word with a passion. It sounds like something from a bad superhero movie.

Even when demons were tracking me down, trying to kill me before I killed them because they could sense my hunter blood, I ignored what was happening.

I ran away to start a new life in sleepy Cambridge. I brought Sarah with me, thinking I could shield her from it and that she'd never have to know what I really was.

And then she died.

Because of the exact thing I was trying to protect her from.

Don't think it hasn't occurred to me that I'm getting caught up in Lucien's desire to protect Luna because she reminds me of my dead wife.

I'm no back-seat therapist but I've watched enough social media reels to know I'm playing out the same scenario and hoping for a different result this time.

Vulnerable woman. Looks spookily like the woman I loved. Needs protection from evil forces... count me in! Maybe I can redeem myself by saving her.

Just because I'm aware of what I'm doing, though, doesn't mean I have the wherewithal to stop it.

I've barely put a foot on the ground when Lucien's dogs appear. Four Doberman that look like they're ready to tear me limb from limb. I fold my arms and tap my foot, staring at them.

Rex, the biggest, drops to the floor and rolls over like a puppy. The others stop too, wagging their tails.

Dogs love me. Always have. Even these ones.

"Come on. Let's find your master." I gesture to the house and the dogs run alongside me as if they're out for a playdate not protecting their property from potential assailants.

The house is in almost total darkness. Not unusual for Lucien. But the aura that I felt earlier is back, and it's stronger now.

Above me, the sky is brightening. It's going to be another cold, crisp day. Strange that we've had so many in a row. Surely, any minute now the rain will return; it wouldn't feel like England in February without it.

I push on the front door, and it swings open.

Half expecting Trent to appear from nowhere, I brace myself to be startled, but no one is there.

I head straight for Lucien's study, but there is no one here either. Just an empty desk chair, pushed back against the wall, a half-drunk glass of blood, and a glowing computer screen.

He left in a hurry.

I move to the desk to see whether he left his phone, then notice movement on the screen. I peer at it, then realize I'm looking at Luna's bedroom. And that her and Lucien are sitting in bed together, drinking coffee.

Did he spend the night with her?

Did they…?

I examine the buttons on screen and skip back through the feed. For a while, there is barely any movement, just Luna sleeping and Lucien watching her, his eyes glowing in the darkness.

But then… they are naked. Fucking.

I increase the speed and cycle back faster then hit play.

The room around them is dimly lit. The bed sheets are tangled, and the sound of their heavy breathing makes my own breath catch in my chest. As Luna curls into Lucien's embrace, her body pressed against his chest, legs around him, I sit down in Lucien's chair.

A deep pang of longing for physical contact hits me in my core. Not just contact with anyone, though… contact with her .

I study the pair of them. Lucien is holding his wrist to Luna's mouth. He's bleeding. Fuck… he's going to feed her?

I lean forward, gripping the edge of the desk, and watch as she seals her perfect lips around his open flesh. When she starts to suck, and her eyes meet his, my cock stiffens.

Fuck, she looks so good.

The pair of them together look so good.

As Luna drinks, Lucien's rough yet gentle fingers run through her hair, pulling out the pale strands from where they're tangled in her eyes and around her lips. He nuzzles her neck, his fangs grazing her slightly as he does so.

When he sits back, telling her she's had enough and easing her mouth from his skin, his eyes are filled with hunger. But it isn't hunger for blood; it is hunger for her.

He starts to move his hips faster, and she clings onto him, crying his name as he fucks her harder.

They're a mismatched pair – his lean muscular form and rugged features contrasting with Luna's soft frame, but somehow they fit together.

I'm so hard now I can't stand it.

Fumbling with my belt, I unfasten my jeans and thrust my hand into my boxers, pulling out my cock. Already, precum glistens on its tip.

I lightly brush the head of my cock through my palm and allow myself a small groan as I watch them.

I'll admit it, watching has always been my thing. It started with Sarah because we were saving ourselves for marriage. She would tease me, making herself come for me while I stroked myself watching her. Sometimes, in the run up to the wedding, she would send me videos. Her hand slipping below the sheets into her underwear. It became an obsession… the idea of her pleasuring herself.

I have never watched a couple before. But Lucien and Luna? This is something else. This is a level of arousal I haven't felt before, and touching myself doesn't feel like enough.

It is like there is too much distance between us.

I want to be in the room. I want to smell their sweat and their heat. I want to be close enough to see her cheeks flushing and her lip trembling as she bites down on the urge to come.

I lean closer, fisting my cock furiously as I watch them.

With each thrust of Lucien's hips, Luna moans and her body shudders in response, sending shockwaves of pleasure through my own body. Her nails dig into Lucien's skin, her fingers entwined in his hair as he slams deeper into her, claiming what is his. She throws her head back, panting his name like a prayer.

Lucien's eyes never leave hers as he holds her hips tightly, marking her with his firm grip.

As they move together, my head spins.

Every time he hits the spot inside her that sends shivers down her spine, she gasps and arches under him, hissing out tiny little moans that make me harder and more desperate to come.

I realize I am watching Lucien, too. Almost as much as I'm watching Luna. And now I need to use another hand. This one on my balls.

I picture her crawling beneath the desk and putting them in her mouth.

I picture him fucking her right here in front of me. Bending her over while I watch the two of them just inches from my face.

When she climaxes, he does too.

I am not far behind them.

An orgasm, quick and powerful, makes me slam the desk with my closed fist as ropes of cum spill onto the floor.

I am panting, one hand still on my cock, when I hear a voice down the hall.

Fuck.

Trent.

He's calling for the dogs, but he's coming this way.