Page 40 of Born Reckless

He doesn't mean blood. And sometimes blood isn't what matters. Sometimes blood does not guarantee love. It does not guarantee loyalty. The family Mason speaks about, it's the kind of family that counts.

And with my confession, with all of the words spoken, I feel a weight lift off of my chest. I feel like I can breathe. I feel like the air is fresher, it tastes completely different.

I look up into Mason's eyes, and I don't know what to expect for our future. I don't know if what’s between us is going to end tomorrow. I don't know if it's going to develop into something more. But I do know that he is one of the best people I have ever met in my life. And for the second time in my life, I find myself grateful for a person.

I let my eyes slide closed and reach a hand up to rest it against Mason's neck. I take one slow, deep breath. And I mean it with everything in me when I say, "Thank you."

Chapter Eight

I can't sleepthe next day. Not that I have slept more than twice since I arrived in the city. Elena wasn't joking when she talked about that vampire insomnia business.

Mason went to bed three hours ago. Boredom is starting to set in a little bit. I follow Mason around all day every day. And I do literally nothing else. So, as I pace the penthouse, the only thing I have to focus on is the burn in my throat.

I go to the kitchen and pull the fridge open. There are a dozen bags of blood on the top shelf. But as I look at them, my breathing grows harder. My stomach does this little turn and the thought of that cold liquid slipping down my throat makes me want to throw up.

I look over my shoulder in the direction of Mason's bedroom. I rock forward onto the balls of my feet, poised and anxious to do… something. I strain my hearing, listening for any kind of activity or movement in Elena's penthouse. But I don't hear anything. I never hear anything between the two penthouses. I can only imagine the kind of insulation that must've been used to deaden ears like mine.

I don't think. I move.

I grab my security badge from the table by the front door and slip it into my back pocket. Then I yank open the door and I walk outside. The elevator arrives in just twenty seconds, and I step on and press the button for the ground floor.

The elevator slides open, and I step out into the main lobby. As usual, it's packed full of vampires. As I look around, I'm beginning to recognize familiar faces. So-and-so works in accounting. So-and-so is an attorney. In the two weeks I've been here now, I'm starting to recognize some of the repeat faces.

But right now, my focus goes straight for the front doors.

I push past them, and the metal frame of the door sings. I use way too much force. I'm lucky the glass didn't shatter. But my laser-focused brain can't process that right now.

I step out onto the sidewalk and my nostrils flare as I take a deep breath.

Heartbeats. I hear heartbeats all around me. I'm surrounded by millions of people, every one of them smelling delicious in this moment.

I set off down the sidewalk and begin looking in the shadows.

Chicago isn't that different from New York. There are certain smells that are exactly the same. There are bridges scattered throughout the city. There are towering buildings that close you in, hiding the sky. And there are always transactions happening in the shadows.

I see three drug deals happen in the first five blocks. I see eight homeless people sleeping in various forms of shelter. A tent. A cardboard box. Simply lying out on a bench. And for the first time, I see one of my own kind standing between two buildings. I watch as another vampire approaches. She hands off some money, and the dealer hands her an insulated bag. Even from here I can smell the blood inside of it.

I assume this is one of Sebastian's people.

Vampire doctor and drug dealer.

A sound pulls my attention down an alleyway. There is a grunt followed by the sound of tipping trash cans. "Hey!" someone yells out. And then feet run down the alleyway.

I’m moving before I think too much about it. We are an entire building apart, but as I move faster, I know that there's no chance the thief will lose me. Adrenaline surges in my body, and excitement sparks in my blood. My nostrils flare, and the thrill of the hunt takes possession of every muscle in my body.

I hear him coming, and just as he steps out, I collide with him. My fingers wrap around his throat and before he can react, I push him up against the side of a building. He doesn't even make a sound before my fangs extend and I sink them into his neck.

I literally moan at the feeling of his blood hitting my tongue. I've been trying so hard to be satisfied with the donor blood. But some days it just doesn’t cut it.

Nothing beats this. I pull that sweet, coppery liquid into my mouth and I drink it down, cooling the heat in my stomach.

The man stands there, stark still. He doesn't make a sound. He doesn't fight against me. He doesn't even blink. The toxins secreting from my fangs hold him completely immobile.

I want to keep pulling more. I want to keep draining him. I could easily justify it. He's not a good person. It was someone like him that ended my human life.

But I already have two deaths on my head. How high do I want to rack up that tally?

Regretfully, I retract my fangs. I feel disgusting as I do it, but I lick over the bite wounds and watch as they close up before my eyes. I press my fingers into the artery in his neck and check his pulse.