Chapter 9 Greyson

W aking up this morning with Vivian in my arms is something I never knew I needed or even wanted.

Somehow, last night was even better than the first time, and I honestly don't know how that's even fucking possible. I don't know if it has something to do with the feeding or if it's just her, but I think I might be addicted.

I still can't get over how crazy this is yet so natural. There is something sexy about the fact that my very blood is keeping her alive. It's…invigorating. I want her to drink from me constantly. I love knowing it's my blood that's pumping through her veins when I bury myself inside of her.

She's insatiable. Beautiful. Mysterious. I want to know everything about her.

Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I shift my arms tighter around her. It's only six thirty, but knowing that she's right here makes me not want to go back to sleep. For the first time, the reality is better than the dream.

Am I reading too much into this? Am I romanticizing everything that's happened so far? Is it bad that I don't care if I have been?

All I know is that my entire life, I have been searching for a greater purpose. I knew in the pit of my stomach that there was something bigger waiting for me. I survived the early years of my life, then spent the following decade yearning for consistency and comfort.

I reached the stability I was after, and I convinced myself that it was enough. I chose a realistic career path, one that would guarantee high salaries. My extracurriculars didn't involve heavy drinking or drugs. I made smart decisions. I did everything right… right?

But now, looking back, I can't pinpoint a single time where I chose something because I wanted to. Carefully, I crafted my future with logistics instead of passion.

Where has it gotten me? I'm months away from graduating with a degree that I don't really even want to use. I'm not passionate about finance; I'm simply good at it.

I keep to myself because the fewer moving factors, the more predictable an outcome. I have no friends, a roommate I despise, a future I'm not sure I even want, and a life that is about to change with the money I'm getting from Vivian.

For the first time, I feel like I have the freedom to chase what I want because I already have what I need. After this arrangement is over, I won't need to pursue a job simply because of financial reasons.

I've spent my life reading stories to fill the void of excitement and adventure. I read to discover more in this world. But I never knew that I would stumble into the making of a story of my own.

Even though I know what Vivian and I have will come to an end, for the time being, I want to pretend there's a chance it might not. No matter how much it may hurt afterward, I would rather open myself up to her, be raw and vulnerable, and enjoy her time while she gives it to me before it runs out.

"You're awake," she states rather than asks, her voice as smooth as silk, drawing me away from my rambling thoughts.

Nodding, I nestle my head into the crook of her neck, trailing kisses from the base to her ear. "How'd you know?"

She softly melts in my embrace. "Your heart rate spiked, and your breathing became uneven."

"Hmm. Sounds like you made that up," I tease her, knowing damn well that she is telling the truth.

My arm falls, bouncing off the mattress. She's gone. Instead of snuggled in bed with me, she's across the room, leaning against the dresser with a devilish smirk on her lips.

Her arms are crossed over my T-shirt that she wore to bed, completely oversized on her body, stopping just on the tops of her thighs.

Rolling over onto my back, I stretch my arms up and tuck them beneath my head, my elbows jutting out to the sides.

A cool breeze skates across my abs. "You look better in my shirts than I do."

"Yeah?" she murmurs, playing with the bottom hem.

Running my stare from her painted toes up her long legs, I study her more intensely than anything before, trailing high, and right as I'm about to lock with her gaze, I suck in a breath.

Perhaps it's because I'm starting to get used to this little trick of hers, but I know my gaze won't fall on her. Because she's already moved or teleported. I laugh to myself.

"Ugh," I grunt with surprise as she lands on top of me, straddling my waist and planting her hands lightly on my chest. My hands fall to her hips. "Do you want to start your day with a sip from your new favorite drink?"

She chuckles softly. "You just woke up. I thought I would give your human body a moment to adjust."

Digging my fingers into her bare hips, I grind upward into her center. "Oh, don't worry. I'm adjusting just fine."

A red flush flickers across her cheeks, and a coy smile lifts her lips. But as her eyes fall to mine, I can't help but notice a swirling darkness dance deep in her gaze, one that only someone else who's experienced the true pains of life can recognize.

Lifting my hand up, I tap the side of her head. "What's happening in there?"

Whether she doesn't want to talk about it or just doesn't want to tell me, she dismisses my concern with a wave. "What? Nothing."

It's not my place to push the topic, so I let it go. At least for now.

She changes the subject with a smile. "I deposited the first part of your funds into your account this morning."

"Thank you," I tell her honestly. She has no idea what this means to me. She is single-handedly changing my entire life.

"Ask me something," she murmurs softly, trailing her hands down my sternum and abs.

A thousand questions begin popping up in my mind.

What is it like being able to move that fast?

What's it like to have all of the money in the world and want for nothing?

What other beings are out there?

What was your childhood like?

Why, after all of this time, do you still live alone?

Are vampires doomed to isolation?

The questions are almost overwhelming, but I eventually decide on one.

Reaching up and stroking her cheek, I ask, "You asked me what I want out of this. But what do you want? Besides the obvious."

Her eyes soften, her brows furrowing ever so slightly as her lips part. But nothing comes out.

"Is that too invasive?" I ask, wondering if I overstepped.

"No, not at all." She forces a smile. "I want exactly what we've already been doing. Feeding. Fucking. What's another good f-word?"

"Frolicking?" I offer, earning a smile.

"Feeding. Fucking. Frolicking…where to exactly?" she asks with humor dancing beneath her words.

"Anywhere you want to go." I pause. "Is this where I ask you if that's all you want? The same way you asked me."

Her eyes fog over as if a memory is playing out before them. "I want you to enjoy yourself. That's what I want. To drink from you while making you feel things no one ever has. Your pleasure is mine too. Literally ." Her delicate fingers brush the skin of my side, her thumb swiping back and forth. Her eyes brighten like a lightbulb goes off in her head. "I don't think I've told you the other little gift I have."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know how I told you about witches being able to sense energy?"

I nod.

"Well, I can sense and feel other people's emotions. Anger. Happiness. If they're being deceitful or honest." Her voice softens. "If they're turned on."

"Hmm. Since the night we met you've been able to feel exactly what you do to me?" I ask, biting down on my bottom lip.

She shrugs, smirking. "Yeah. I have

"And you know what I'm feeling right now?" I murmur, my heart racing as I fidget with the hem of her t-shirt.

Smiling, she nods slowly.

Every second of every day, she ceases to amaze me.

She swallows hard before continuing with our original conversation, her gaze falling to my chest. "I want you to leave our arrangement with the capability of doing whatever you want with your life. Which is why I'm tripling the funds you were initially told you'd receive."

My body stiffens. "What? Vivian, no. You're already giving me plenty."

Her playfulness returns as she smirks and says, "Try to stop me. You won't be able to. I'm much faster than you."

She told me that I would be receiving three hundred thousand, but now she's giving me nearly a million dollars. It's almost impossible to comprehend that amount of money.

"It's too much," I insist.

She giggles. "Trust me, it's not. Greyson, I want you to have the life you desire. This money won't dent my account, so please stop fighting me on it. You are the most genuine and honest person I've ever met. I want you to have it."

I know if I open my mouth to say anything else, I'll protest her generosity. So instead, I show her my thanks in another way.

Skating my hands up her sides, I grab her face and pull her down to me, capturing her mouth with mine.

Licking the seam of her lips, I taste the inside of her mouth as my fingers find the hem of the shirt she's wearing and bunch it up right above her hips.

We devour each other with our kisses, our tongues melting together. Her lips are silky soft as they melt against mine, only parting long enough to gasp for air. But I'm willing to suffocate as long as she doesn't stop kissing me.

I pull away just enough to whisper, "What was it you said you wanted? Feeding and fucking?"

Grabbing the cotton fabric, I lift it up over her bare breasts, which bounce from the motion, making my mouth water as I lift the shirt over her head and drop it to the floor.

Tipping my head to the side, I tap my neck with two fingers. "I'm all yours."

She wets her lips, her hazel gaze turns dark red, and two white fangs protrude as she bites down on her bottom lip. In the blink of an eye, I feel her sink into my neck, pain and pleasure blending into eternal ecstasy.

Vivian took me on a private tour of Saint Eldritch yesterday, showing me places I've somehow never been. Or maybe it felt that way because I'm looking at everything through a new lens.

She also told me some things I was desperate to know. I learned that vampires don't eat human food. They can consume it just fine, but their body discards it, disintegrating it the second it hits their stomach. That might be the sole reason I would change into a vampire. Bottomless calories for life.

Many of the things I thought I knew about vampires prior to meeting Vivian turned out to be false. They have a reflection in the mirror. Garlic does absolutely nothing to them. Same goes for crosses. They don't need to breathe air to survive. They can't suffocate. Their bodies just held on to that involuntary movement after death as a tool to help them trick their victims into thinking they're human.

But a few traits about her kind turned out to be true. They live for eternity. They survive on human blood. And a stake through the heart is deadly, but only when it's carved from a white ash tree.

She patiently sat and answered a thousand questions for me before she had to leave to attend to some High Council business, leaving Lucy and me home alone.

Vivian said that Lucy doesn't like new people, but that doesn't apply to me because she's started to follow me everywhere I go in the house, including the bathroom. She has lost all regard for privacy.

It's been a few days since I got a good run in, so when I woke up this morning, I changed into joggers and a hoodie, slipped on my tennis shoes, secured my phone in my chest bag, and headed out for a run.

It takes me about five minutes to even get off Vivian's property and get back into the community. I've never been on this side of town, and I quickly understand why. Every house I pass looks like it was plucked out of a magazine. Not a single one of these houses looks like it's less than ten million dollars. Every driveway has a private security gate. The landscaping consists of trimmed hedges and perfectly maintained flower beds, although with the weather cooling down, a majority of them are starting to fade.

Deciding that I need to see parts of this town I feel like I belong in, I travel the mile toward the center of town, near the apothecary we visited. Music plays in my ears, drowning out the noise of the cars driving by and the rest of the world.

As I turn onto a new street, a small pit forms in my stomach like a warning sign. Coming to a halt, I decide that today is not the day to investigate that feeling.

Spinning around, I dig my feet into the ground and take off, following the same path back toward Vivian's. But I still can't shake that feeling…the sense that someone is watching me. Goose bumps erupt on my arms, but I chalk it up to the brisk fall air.

The hair on my neck rises as I cross back into the wealthy, ritzy neighborhood, and I tap my earbud to stop the music. I want to be able to hear around me.

Turning my head, I glance back behind me, but I don't see anyone. This is weird. I'm probably overanalyzing it. Creating it all in my head. The idea that I sense someone watching me is manifesting into a real sensation like a paranormal hypochondriac.

Running down the main road, I turn right at the end to head up the short hill to Vivian's place. But even as I try to force the thoughts of someone following me out of my mind, I fail.

As I turn into her long, winding driveway, lined by tall pine trees, the hair on the back of my neck settles back down, and the eeriness looming over me dissipates. I don't know if I should tell Vivian or not. I don't want to freak her out if there's nothing to freak out over. Besides, if someone was watching me, it could have been innocent. I just can't help the tingle in the back of my brain that knows that wasn't the case.

Jogging up the front steps, I pull my sweatshirt off over my head, wiping the pouring sweat from my face and letting the wind cool down my body. Crossing my fingers on top of my head, I take a few deep breaths to calm my erratic breathing and racing heart. As I take one last deep breath through my nose, I open the front door and step inside, immediately hearing someone rustling around in the kitchen.

"Hello?" I call out, shutting the door, slinging my hoodie over my shoulder, and walking across the giant space toward the open kitchen.

No one responds.

Lucy jumps down from the couch and runs over the second she sees me, and I bend down to give her soft head a few pets, earning sweet purrs.

A pot clatters to the floor in the kitchen, and I rush over, the culprit finally coming into view as I turn the corner and find Vivian viciously mixing something in a bowl.

She freezes the second she sees me, her eyes softening.

"What's going on in here?" I ask, examining the endless ingredients strewn across the island.

She huffs, humor gleaming in her eyes as she returns her focus to the bowl. "I'm making breakfast."

My heart clenches as I take a seat on a stool on the opposite side of the island. "You don't eat food."

Her gaze flicks up to me from the bowl, glaring at me through her dark, long eyelashes. Her lips part, but before she says a word, she hesitates and takes a deep breath. "I'm making them for you."

Tingles dance across my chest at her words. "You're making me breakfast?"

"Oh no, you don't have an allergy or anything, do you? Do you even eat muffins? Shit, I totally didn't ask," she apologizes, and I reach my hand across the island and rest it on top of hers.

"First, take a breath for me. I don't have any allergies. And I love muffins." I smile, my throat burning as I debate whether or not to share more.

"What is it, then?" she asks, her eyes searching mine.

"What do you mean?"

She calmly sets the bowl and whisk down. "I could feel your discomfort."

Honest to God, I have no idea how I forgot about that special talent of hers.

Closing my eyes, I smile softly before meeting her concerned stare. "That has absolutely nothing to do with you."

A moment of silence passes between us.

Mustering up the nerve to open up, I clear my throat. "It means a lot that you're doing this." I pause, wondering where to even start. "I didn't have a lot of home-cooked meals growing up. I bounced around a lot between foster homes. A lot of them didn't provide or care the way they should've."

She listens intently, flipping her hand over and caressing mine as I continue. "I got lucky at the end though, ending up in the care of Cheryl Harper. She was the first person who ever really cared about where I ended up. She was my family and the best person I've ever known. I wish I had told her that more before she passed. Other than her, I've never really had someone make me breakfast before."

A blade rakes down my throat as I finish, the vulnerability making me nauseous.

"I'm sorry life wasn't kinder to you. You deserved better than that. But I'm glad that you had her," s he murmurs, her voice soft and warm. "How long ago did she pass?"

"A few years now. She went out doing one of her favorite things—napping." I chuckle, reminiscing at her love for afternoon snoozes.

She grins. "Sounds like a good way to go."

"Yeah," I mumble.

She glances down at the bowl. Her nostrils flare and eyebrows pinch as a tear wets her lashes. "I got this recipe from a friend of mine. She used to make these all the time, and I remember how delicious they were. I could never quite get them to turn out the same as her though. Hers were always better."

I know the look in her eyes, recognizing the fogginess that forms when you recall a memory of someone who's no longer with you. Sliding my hand from hers, I rise from my stool and walk around the island, leaning my back against the counter, my fingers wrapped under the lip.

She turns around and leans next to me, her arm resting against mine.

"What was her name?"

She smiles hauntingly as she looks down at the hardwood floor. "Genevieve." She gulps hard. "God, it's been so long since I spoke her name out loud. She was sunshine personified. Her hair was light like yours, but her eyes were almost identical to mine. She was so beautiful and kind."

My heart aches for her. I don't need her ability to be able to tell how painful this is for her to recall.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, dropping my hand and intertwining my fingers with hers.

She tilts her head up, her hazel stare peering up at me through the pool of tears gathering in her eyes. "It's okay. It's nice, actually. To talk about her."

"It's the way we keep the ones we lost alive."

A gleam of hope sparkles in her eyes. "Yeah. You're right."

Turning to face her, I lift my hand and swipe the tears away from her eyes, stroking her cheeks. "You can tell me about her anytime you'd like. I'd love to hear some stories."

She nods sharply. "I have so many good ones." She sighs. "She was my best friend in the whole wide world. But she was human. At the time, I hadn't realized how much my position on the council put a target on the back of the ones I loved. Until it was too late…" Her voice cracks. "Vampires who don't follow the rules of the council and respect humans are referred to as rogues. Well, one decided that he was tired of the council trying to control him.

Her gaze drops to my chest as she continues to open up. "He couldn't hurt me if he tried. I've been around long enough to learn how to protect myself. But Genevieve didn't. One night, we were supposed to meet up after she got off of work at the bakery. But then she didn't show, which was extremely out of character for her. She didn't answer her texts or calls, so I went looking for her." She sucks in a shuddering breath. "When I got to the bakery, I found her, and she was gone. Someone drained her completely. The worst part is that I was going to turn her that night…she was supposed to be with me forever."

My chest burns for her, and I wish I could help ease the pain. For the first time, I see her walls crumble down. And fuck, the pain that's laced in her pretty hazel orbs is enough to stab me in the heart a million times over.

When you lose someone that close to you, you lose pieces of yourself too, leaving tiny holes in your heart that ache for what's been lost.

"I know she's not here by your side. But in a way, she will live forever because of you and your love for her."

Her cheeks still cupped in my hands, she nods her head slowly. Holding my stare, she rises onto the tips of her toes and slides a hand along my jaw. Her forehead rolls against mine as her heavy breathing finally begins to slow.

"Thank you," she whispers against my lips before gently pressing hers into me, kissing me tenderly and slowly as my heart begins to rattle in its cage, the bars loosening.