There’s some sort of birthday party happening in Dog Town, a tacky Chinese New Year themed event that in no way actually falls on or around the Chinese New Year. There’s a lot of screaming and shouting that follows us upstairs and into the old door that sticks. It seriously requires some of my dhampir strength to open it, it’s that stuck. Well, to open it and not simply just bust it off its hinges. That requires finesse,

“Welcome to Chateau Dog Town,” I say with a sweep of my hand, indicating the single bed in the corner, piled with ostentatiously decorative pillows. Some are beaded, some covered in glitter, others lined with tassels. I feel like it makes my cheap, shitty apartment less sad.

“Wow, this really is a dump,” Sorrow says, shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it on the old bistro table I grabbed from the dumpster of the cafe down the street. One leg was broken, so they tossed it out. I rescued it, fixed the leg, and painted the damn thing red.

“Thanks.” I grab Ethel from the side table and make a point of checking to make sure she’s loaded. Ricky leans against the wall next to my bed, in easy reach in case I need to behead a late night—or should I say midday since I sleep during daylight?—intruder. It’s happened once or twice. Wait, maybe three times. No, no, four. I’d dropped the weapons off at home before heading to the bar, but I’d been too damn lazy to shower. I probably should’ve just taken them with me, but then, if I hear snide comments in the bar, I get tempted to use them. Nah, just better I remain weaponless while drinking. “Just remember, I have rowan ash in here and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Duly noted,” Sorrow says, walking around the tiny space and frowning at the flashing neon sign for Dog Town that sits right below my window. Did I mention that shithole’s open twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year? He reaches out and grabs the heavy blackout curtains, yanking them closed before moving into the messy kitchen and doing the same to the window above the sink.

The look he casts the myriad empty Dog Town takeout containers on my counter says a lot.

“You actually eat at that place?” he asks, picking one up and giving it a sniff before moving over to my trash can and dropping it in. “Jesus, I’ve got crown blood and even I can’t identify that smell. What is wrong with you?”

“I have to work my ass off for House Verenim scraps!” I snap, throwing out my hand and gesturing at the dishabille around me. “Hello, useless half-breed over here.”

“Dhampirs can’t clean?” Sorrow asks, snatching up several more containers and chucking them. As he moves, I can see a bit of tattoo peeking up at the edge of his neckline. I blink, and it moves, startling me. What the fuck is that?! “Clearly, you have supplies.” He gestures to the open cupboard beneath the sink, paper towels and bottles of cleaner tumbling out in a messy pile.

Okay, I’m a shitty housekeeper. So sue me.

“This is the weirdest one-night stand I’ve ever had in my life, by the way,” I continue as Vyce slides his trench coat off and moves over to sit on the edge of my bed, staring up at a suspicious water spot on my ceiling. I imagine they’re used to much fancier digs than this. Would I have liked that? To be indoctrinated into Rumpel Stiltz’ assassins’ guild? Kept in a gilded cage?

Not so much.

I’ll take the smelly Chinese food place and the weird water stains any day.

“Yeah, well, I can’t get it up with the stench of rotten dog meat lingering in the air.”

“First off,” I tell Sorrow, marching over to stand next to him. “You’re a vampire so you can control the flow of your own blood, therefore you can get it up whenever you want. Second, I only order vegetarian food from Dog Town because I don’t fancy the idea of eating poodles or German shepherds or whatever the hell else is in their kung pao. And third, you’re an asshole.”

He smirks at me, making quick work of the mess of the kitchen and then yanking the bag out of the silver trash can before tying it up.

“Vyce, take this out, will you?”

“No,” Vyce says, lounging with a bemused expression on his handsome face. “No, thank you, I suppose I should say. You do it.” Sorrow narrows ice-blue eyes on him and then scowls, picking the bag up and then moving over to the curtains. He slips between them, opens the window, and jumps out.

Not a big deal for a vamp to jump down from the second story. That’s like a human hopping down a single step. Piece of cake. He chucks the bag in the Dog Town dumpster which I just know is going to send Mrs. Johnson (sorry, no, the owners of the Chinese food place are not actually Chinese but white retirees from Michigan) into a violent fit when she finds out.

Whatever.

I just want to get laid.

“Is this happening, or do you guys want to sweep the dust bunnies out from under my bed?” I ask when Sorrow climbs back in the window and moves to the counter, spraying it with cleaner and wiping it with paper towels. I bought the organic, chemical free cleaners because even a dhampir’s nose is too sensitive for the pungent shit.

“There are dust bunnies?” Sorrow asks, turning to look over his shoulder at me, that chunky red piece in the front of his hair falling over his eyes. “I’ll have to get those, too, then.”

“I’ve never had a guy I picked up at a bar clean my apartment before,” I say, flopping onto the edge of my bed next to Vyce. We’re close enough that his heat seeps into my skin and makes me shiver with delight. That sour candy and blood smell wafts around me, drawing my eyes over to his form, slouched and dressed in leather. He’s ridiculously handsome, probably with royal or even crown blood in his lineage. I bet his parents were devastated to lose such a powerful heir. I’d say they were heartbroken at losing their newborn child, but vampires—especially high-ranking nobles—are usually heartless assholes anyway.

“Honestly, I could get used to this.” I lay back and then suddenly, Vyce is just there, leaning over me with preternatural speed.

“Especially if one man cleans and another...” He trails his fingertips through the air above me, teasing me with sparks of magic. Hell, he’s not even touching me, and I can feel pleasure radiating through my entire body, penetrating my blood and bones. He’s not even inside of me and yet...he’s inside of me. Good God. “Takes care of other needs.”

“Wow, you sure know how to get a girl riled up,” I quip, but it doesn’t come out as snarky as I intended. Instead, Vyce’s hand finally comes to rest on my neck, on the side opposite my bandage.

“Mm, if the rapid gallop of your heart and...” Vyce leans down and licks the side of my throat, just above the bandage, making me moan and curl my fingers into the blankets. “And the violent thundering of your pulse hadn’t already told me that, it’d be good to know.” He taps a finger against my bite and my hips thrust involuntarily. Pleasure curls through me and there’s a tightening between my thighs that almost hurts. “May I?”

“Go for it,” I breathe as he peels the bandage off and tosses it aside. Pretty sure I hear Sorrow cursing Vyce out, but I ignore him, closing my eyes against the almost overwhelming wash of pleasure from the bite.

“I think I’ll heal this first...and then bite you again.” There’s a note of jealousy in his voice that excites me. We’ve just met, but he’s into me sexually and getting that little hint of male possessiveness. I find it cute, just so long as they get the fuck out when we’re done.

“Yeah, this guy, he was a little rough,” I joke, and Vyce stiffens up as I grin.

“This was a woman,” he says, and I roll my eyes. Damn vampires and their crazy good sense of smell.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant. She got a little rough. I’m bisexual, does that bother you?” I wiggle my brows at Vyce and his mouth twitches a little.

“This isn’t from sex at all, is it?” he asks, and I shrug. Nothing wrong with being a little coy, right? “You’re an intriguing woman, Cam,” he says, licking the shell of my ear and making me shiver. Vyce nibbles on my earlobe before working his way down to the bite. Swear to God, my entire body lights up like a sunrise, all my nerve endings bright and tingling with need.

Sorrow appears on my left side, yanking his shirt over his head and revealing a tattooed...dog of some sort? It’s long and lean, like a hyena/wolf hybrid if such a thing existed. Its tail is short and fluffed, and it has a ridge of thick hair from the top of its head all the way down its back. As I watch, it moves again, sliding across Sorrow’s skin and making me jump.

Vyce chooses that exact moment to flick his tongue against my wound, blinding me with the pheromones from the bite. He can’t take them out of my blood—they’ll last another eight hours or so—but he can use his saliva to heal the wound completely.

Just before he makes a new one, of course.

“His...” I start, trying to call out Sorrow’s weird tattoo, but it’s too late. The wound on my neck heals...and Vyce sinks his teeth into me, sucking my blood out through the new wounds and pumping pheromones into me at ten times, twenty times, the level that the PINK tracksuit vamp did. She was trying to stun me and kill me. Vyce Stiltz is trying to fuck me.

My throat tightens, and I curl my tattooed right arm around the back of Vyce’s neck, tangling my fingers in his hair and yanking him against me with a groan. I’ve seen a lot of weird supernatural shit in my life, so what’s one more thing? Sure, I’ve never seen a moving tattoo before, but what the hell ever.

Hot fingertips curl under the waistband of my skintight leather pants.

“Mind if I take these off?” Sorrow whispers, his voice as cold as his hands are warm. I can’t reply with words. I can’t even remember how to speak English at this point, so instead, I buck my hips up toward him and let him start to slide them down my thighs. When he gets to my boots, he pauses and removes those first, before taking the pants the rest of the way off. “No panties, huh? You really are a naughty little dhampir, aren’t you?”

I want to tell him that nobody in their right mind wears panties with leather that tight because, you know, panty lines, but I’m more or less paralyzed by Vyce’s bite. The pleasure amps up when he slides his right hand down from my neck to my breast, squeezing the tender flesh through the burgundy fabric of my tiny half-shirt. He kneads the tender mound until the nipple is peaked and aching before he drags the tube top down and exposes my bare breast to the cool air of the apartment.

Meanwhile, Sorrow is kneeling on the old wood floors and pushing my thighs apart, teasing his fingertips along the tender white flesh and skimming lightly over the wet, pulsing ache of my core.

“Your blood definitely smells like crown,” he breathes against my opening, breath feathering against the neatly manicured blonde curls. Sorrow presses his face against my thigh and smirks, his lips sliding against my skin. I might not be able to see his expression, but I can feel it. With a sharp exhale of breath, Sorrow opens his mouth and flicks his tongue against my femoral artery, tasting me. He’s slow and casual about it, like he’s in no hurry to sample my blood.

Total bullshit.

I know because I’m desperate to sample theirs. My mouth is watering, and I feel parched all of a sudden, both starving and dehydrated at the same time. I need it. But I’m trapped between the two vampires, their tongues slicking lazily across my flesh. Sorrow takes his sweet time before biting me, sinking his teeth in with agonizing slowness. As soon as he starts to suck, I lose it.

A climax takes over me, originating at both bites and swirling together in my lower belly before completely and utterly taking over my core. Sorrow slips two fingers in at just the right moment, and I clamp down on him, sucking in a gasping breath and finding—after the shakes die down a bit—that I’ve finally got control of my limbs back.

“Switch me,” I plead, yanking Vyce’s hair. He lets go of my neck and flashes a wicked smirk that curls my toes against the wood floor. Leaning down, he turns his head to the side and bares the white skin of his neck, his pulse dancing with excitement. The pull of his blood is impossible to resist. I feel like I can already taste it on my tongue, scalding and warm, sweet and metallic at the same time.

Keeping my grip on Vyce’s hair, I drag him down to my mouth and bite hard enough to make him grunt. His hand tightens on my breast as my teeth sink deep and hot liquid fills my mouth. Oh, fuck yes. He tastes as good as he smells, like sour fucking candy. Vampire blood slides down my throat and my body reacts instantly, healing the wounds on my head and knees.

I drink him deep, sucking hard on his neck as Sorrow slides his fingers in and out of me, moving his mouth from my thigh to my clit. His tongue flicks across the swollen nub and my hips buck excitedly. The rush of sensation is almost too much, so I let go of Vyce and he turns back to me with a grin.

“Good stuff, don’t you think?” he asks, a bit of shiny red on his lower lip that he swipes clean with a single flick of his tongue.

“What the hell are you?” I whisper, because I’ve never been with a vampire this powerful before. It’s his connection to House Stiltz is what it is. Has to be. There’s no way a thirty-two-year-old living vampire is this strong on his own.

“Your entertainment for tonight,” he breathes, kissing me hard on the mouth, mixing the taste of our blood. Our tongues swirl together, stifling a small gasp when Sorrow rises to his feet between my thighs and reaches down to unbutton his black jeans.

“Even a dhampir shouldn’t need a condom, right?” he muses, and I break briefly away from Vyce to give him a look. Diseases aren’t an issue—our bodies heal them like anything else—but pregnancy could be a problem if I weren’t infertile. Heh. Even if I were fertile, House Verenim basically shoves birth control down dhampirs’ throats, because if there’s anything worse than a halfie, it’s a three-quarter vampire or a one-quarter, both of which are still considered dhampirs, and both of which the Houses despise even more than they do me. Never could figure that one out. I guess fucking one’s food while in the passionate embrace of a bite is more understandable than screwing a mistake.

“No condom required,” I breathe as he steps up close and finishes freeing his cock from his jeans. It’s as pretty as the rest of him, long and thick, pale like his skin and hard as hell. Clearly, he’s excited to be here.

Sorrow steps forward and slides his shaft along my folds, teasing me as I bare my teeth at him.

“Horny dhampirs do bite, you know,” I say and he gives me this stupid shit-eating grin.

“Yeah? Good. Then I’ll just have to keep teasing you until you do.”

“Keep teasing me and I might kick you out and keep your friend all to myself,” I growl, and he has the audacity to chuckle.

“He’s annoying, but he’s a good fuck,” Vyce whispers, moving his mouth down to my breasts and taking the left one into his mouth. He tugs my shirt the rest of the way down and frees the other one before moving his mouth over to it. “Or so I’ve seen; I personally don’t have any experience with his cock.”

Vyce sits back up and yanks his black tank off, tossing it onto the floor before reaching down to undo his leather pants. My eyes flick briefly back to Sorrow, his red and white hair falling across his forehead, frosty gaze focused on my face. With a sideways smirk, he pushes the tip of his cock inside of me, challenging me with that stare.

“You want this, dhampir?” he whispers, and I nod slightly, throwing my head back when he pushes in even further. Technically, Vyce’s blood was enough to heal my wounds; I don’t actually need to delve any further into sex. But...I’m going to do it anyway.

Sorrow thrusts his hips forward and fills me completely, drawing this breathy sound from my throat as Vyce licks his palm seductively and then grabs a hold of his shaft. He watches us as Sorrow begins to move, sliding deeper and deeper inside of me with each successive movement.

Licking the blood from my lips, I stay propped up on my elbows, watching the movement of Sorrow’s body inside of mine. He feels damn good, better than all of the men I’ve been with recently. Maybe ever. He just has the right shape. And holy crap, that’s something you just can’t plan for, sexual chemistry this nice.

My gold-blonde curls slide past my shoulders when I lean back, and Sorrow follows after me, keeping our bodies locked as he puts one long-fingered hand on my hip and helps me scoot onto the bed, so he can climb on top. As soon as my mouth is near his neck, I bite him, and wait for the sweet taste of his blood to fill my mouth. The second it does, I know that he isn’t quite what he seems. There’s a different taste to him, something beyond vampire.

He’s not a pure-breed either.

Nope, there’s something else in there that he’s trying to hide. My fingers brush the tattoo—which is now on his back again—and run across what I’m almost positive is fur. Sorrow shudders and presses his neck into my mouth, letting me gorge myself on his blood. Fire and ash, that’s what he tastes like.

His thrusts pick up in speed and intensity as my fingertips probe his strange tattoo and my tongue laps at his strange blood. The faster and harder he moves, the faster and harder I suck at his neck. We become this tangled circle of life—food and sex all in one simple transaction. I tighten my grip on his back and feel something sharp cut my finger. As soon as that happens, Sorrow tears his mouth from my neck, slamming into me with these vigorous and violent movements of his hips that toss me right over the edge into another orgasm.

By the time I blink myself out of it, he’s coming inside of me with a snarl and then stumbling away.

“I gotta go, Vyce,” he says, his voice shaky and...off. Just off. I can’t explain it, but it’s distinctly not right. I’ve seen guys book it after sex before, but this has to be a record. Sorrow barely bothers to tuck his wet junk back in his pants before he’s heading out the door and slamming it behind him.

He even leaves his coat and shirt behind.

“What the...” I start, but Vyce is already taking his place, kissing the still throbbing wound on my neck and making me forget all about his friend’s strange behavior. My finger is bleeding and I can’t for the life of me understand that tattoo or the weird taste of Sorrow’s blood. But...I also can’t think with Vyce moving his bloody lips from my neck to my mouth, kissing me long and deep, this sensual swirl of tongue that almost makes this feel real, like it’s more than a one-night stand.

Ridiculous.

He’s good at playing pretend though.

We kiss, grinding together below the belt but not taking it any further, not yet. Vyce makes me so hot I can’t stand it, forces me to forget all about my last two orgasms and convinces me with his hands and his hips and his mouth that I’m starving for sex, that I haven’t been touched in years. I have a feeling he’s using a little vamp magic on me, but whatever. That’s the thing about vampires: they make you feel real damn good while they kill you. Death by bliss. Death by pleasure. It’s the only way to go.

Vyce stops kissing me, locks his red-eyed gaze on mine, and then slips slowly inside of me, inch by inch. I almost come then, but he stops, waits, looks me right in the face and then starts again, taking me to that precipice and then holding back. Most of the time, I like to be in control during sex, but holy hell, these guys know what they’re doing and why shouldn’t I be pleasured like a goddamn queen?

I relax back into the mattress, Vyce’s elbows on either side of me. He curls his back a little to look down at me, but he’s quite a bit taller so I get some seriously up close and personal views of his chest and nipples. Baring my teeth, I bite down on his pec, sinking my teeth into his muscle and flicking my tongue across the hardened peak of his nipple. He shivers above me, and even stops moving for a while, exhaling sharply and cursing under his breath.

Vyce gets control of himself quickly as I let go of his chest and wrap my legs around him, digging my fingertips into his colorful hair as little droplets of red slide down his skin and plop onto mine. They scald and tantalize, as pretty as rubies. Letting myself go completely, I let the natural rhythm of Vyce’s body take mine to a razor-sharp edge. I teeter and fall right over, cascading into a white-hot shock of pleasure as a third orgasm wracks my sensitive body. My poor clit feels so painfully aroused that I can’t handle it being touched anymore.

Somehow, Vyce seems to get that, sitting back up and pushing my legs up so that he’s not touching me anymore, moving with sure, confident strokes until he, too, lets out a deep, wild groan, his pupils dilated fully, dark and terrifying. He comes hard, leaning back over me with a palm on either side of my head as he finishes.

“Mm, I forgot how fun dhampirs could be,” he whispers with a small smile, and I cock my eyebrow, pushing him off and rolling away from the wet spots on the bed.

“Not dhampirs plural,” I correct, standing up and tearing my tube top back over my boobs and then over my head. I toss it into the hamper—Sorrow apparently picked up all my dirty clothes, so no way I’m letting this place get trashed again—and head for the bathroom to clean up. “Just this one,” I say with a wink and a smile, loving the way Vyce looks stretched out across the surface of my bed. I almost ask him to stay a while longer, but that could get dangerous and quick. He’s a Stiltz, and that’s too close to home for comfort. “Door’s over there.” I point in the direction that Sorrow left. “Show yourself out while I shower? I’ve got your card if I need you.”

Vyce laughs at me as I step into the bathroom and slam the door behind me.