“Aura!”

Reina yells after me, but I’ve already bolted out the door and down the stairs. I’m moving faster than I should be able to, and it terrifies me. I don’t care that I’m barefoot, running through a dirty club, with god-knows-what speckled along the floor.

I’m suffocating, and I need air.

I shove through the crowd, earning several insults from the people I knock over on my way. When I reach the exit and step into the night, I’m still not alone. Too many people linger, smoking and talking. I see a fire-escape at the end of the alley and rush toward it. I climb the metal steps three at a time, until I reach the rooftop.

When I clear the wall, I hunch over onto my hands and knees and close my eyes, trying to stop myself from hyperventilating.

I’m a vampire.

I’m a vampire.

I’m a fucking vampire.

Wake up Aura. Please, wake the hell up.

This has got to be some really long crazy-ass nightmare. As soon as I come out of this, I’ll be okay.

If you come out of this.

Even though I know it’s futile, I smack my face and order myself a dozen more times to pull out of this. To leave this fucked-up dream.

“You okay?” A deep, masculine voice asks from somewhere behind me.

I inhale, and the scent of a spicy cologne mingled with sweat and the cigarette he’s just lit hits my nose. My heartbeat thunders, and longing fills the pit of my belly.

Shit.

“Feeling sick?” He takes a few steps closer to me and dips his head down to glance at my face. He’s young, maybe twenty-two, and handsome in a boy-next-door kind of way with chestnut brown hair. Light stubble covers his jaw. He’s wearing a flannel button up shirt beneath his black leather jacket. His thick arms stretch the fabric in what looks like a painful way.

At his nearness, my panic induced adrenaline morphs into something entirely different, and my impulse control fades. There’s nothing sexual about this situation, but that doesn’t stop the unnatural desire raging through me. I suddenly realize I haven’t been this close to a man since it happened.

I cradle my stomach, “Y…ou, nee—d to…go.” I don’t know how much longer I can hold this back. “G—o.”

When I’d attacked Reina this morning, my incessant hunger had messed with my head, and I’d lost my impulse control. I felt as though I hadn’t eaten in weeks and death was imminent. Even after she’d knocked me out, I was still hungry, but my fear had drowned out the hunger. But tonight, my needs have morphed once again. Now my craving commands blood—and flesh.

“What’s that?” He moves closer. This time he sweeps aside the long pieces of hair that have fallen free to look at my face. “You need me to call a doctor or one of your friends?”

I caution a glance and see thick full lips and a tongue piercing. A current of desire quakes through me, and my senses slam into overdrive. The sounds of the bass guitar and the steady beat of drums from the club beneath us echo as if they are right beside me. The entire night comes alive. My heartbeat syncs to the tempo of the music, and the thirst inside of me demands satisfaction.

A switch flips inside of me, and I barely recognize my own voice. “I’m better now.”

I rise, letting the deep V in my tank reveal the top of my cleavage, my actions and words those of a stranger, and not anywhere near something Aurora Hedvige would ever say or do.

“You realize you’re barefoot?”

I laugh, she laughs. “Damn, am I?”

“Yeah,” he says. The scent of vodka is apparent on his breath, but he’s buzzed, not drunk. “What are you doing up here?”

“I needed some air.” I prop myself up onto the wall and lean back onto my palms.

He chuckles and pulls the cigarette from his lips. “Yeah, me too. I just ditched a stage-four clinger.”

“Oh really?”

I don’t tell him that I just ditched my best friend. She’s probably roaming the streets worried sick about me, but instead of finding her, I’m sitting here like a selfish asshole, letting the dark side of me win out.

“Yeah, our second date and this chick is talking about kids and marriage.”

I bite down on my lip. “Ugh, I hate girls like that.”

“You’re not a girl like that?”

“No way. I want fun.” I loosen my bun and let the rest of my golden hair cascade down my chest and back. “You look like fun.”

What the fuck, Aurora?

His warm brown eyes snap up from where they were fixated on my breasts, and he swallows down.

“So . . .” I let the word linger in the air between us. I know what I’m doing, but I can’t stop myself. I’m no longer in control.

“So?” He echoes my question, but there’s no doubt in his eyes. “You drunk, sweetheart?” He takes enough steps to put himself at the edge of my knees.

“Nope. I’m not.” I graze my index finger down his stomach. “But I am horny as fuck.”

The cigarette in his lips falls and hits the ground. Clearly, he doesn’t expect that response. Neither do I.

What is happening to me? I’m on a dirty rooftop about to screw—and possibly bite—a man I don’t know. Morals thrown to the wind, I should step away and leave, but I can’t. She won’t let me. This dark vixen who see’s logic in nothing except her own wants and desires.

“You want me to do something about it, baby girl?”

“Hell yes.” I tug onto the waistband of his jeans and jerk him forward between my legs.

He sucks in a harsh breath and crashes into me. Large hands grip my hips, and his tongue shoves into my mouth. I wrap my hand around his neck and press my breasts tight into his chest.

All I want is to scratch an itch. Any man strong enough to keep up with me will do.

He slips his hands over my ass and squeezes. I reciprocate the motion, all while keeping his deliciously hot mouth on mine. We make out harsh and fast until my mouth is almost raw, then he pulls slightly back, “What’s your name, sexy?” he whispers against my jaw.

“Does it matter?”

He licks his lips, and his eyes dart from my breasts to my face and back again. Rolling my hips, I let him figure out what it is I want from him. We’re plastered to each other, and his scent permeates the air around me. I hop off the wall and turn in his arms, my ass sliding over his front. The bulge in his jeans sends a thrill through me. His hands return on my hips. He lets me grind back into him as he fondles my breasts.

“Fuck. You are so sexy.” His breath is hot on my neck, and rivulets of sweat trail down my throat to between my breasts. His finger follows the path of one, stopping just below my neckline. I tilt my head back and graze my tongue along his jaw.

“Mmm, you taste good. I want to taste more of you.”

He turns me around to face him and pushes me to the wall beside the roof access door. He cages me in and wastes no time before his lips are on mine again.

The taste of Vodka and virile man hit my taste buds. I open my mouth and grant him access. With a deep moan, he flicks his tongue across my bottom lip. One hand trails up from my hip and slips to the back of my head. His touch is almost gentle in contrast to his punishing grip on my ass. Our tongues tangle and slide against each other.

My hand slips under his shirt. His skin is slick with sweat, and I dig my nails into his back, and he jerks forward a bit. Renewing his efforts, he pulls back and nibbles on my lip. At his actions, my own teeth ache to feel his flesh between them. He’s breathing deep, his chest heaving.

As my desire for his flesh increases—so does the need to taste his blood.

Slowly, I kiss a trail down his cheek to his jaw. I trace the path of his jaw with my tongue, coming to a stop just above his pulse point. I inhale. Here, I can scent him beneath all of his cologne. He smells like freshly cut wood and sweat and man. Delicious. Something I have to sink my teeth into.

“I want you.” His words are low, his meaning clear.

I smile in the darkness. “I know you do.” This cocky confidence thrills me at the same time it sickens me. I’ve never been one for casual sex. I want a connection, not a quick fly by night affair.

I press myself into him and shake off my doubt with a shrug of my shoulders. Lightning fast, I press up against him. I’m hungry. Voracious for what he can give me. The feelings he can evoke while I lose myself in him. My front is plastered to him, my breasts flattened to his broad chest. I can feel his hard cock against my hip. The thought of my mouth on him makes me moan.

Again, I tilt his chin up. I need his taste in my mouth. I pull at the three buttons on his shirt, and they go flying. I nibble my way up his chest through his shirt to his collarbone and swirl my tongue along it. His hands tighten their grip on my ass as I lick up to his pulse point. Once there, I take my time. I kiss and nip and lick. He moans. I open my mouth wide, the pressure in my gums gnawing at me to leave my mark.

My mouth descends, and I bite down. Not hard enough to break skin, but enough to have a good grip on him. I start to suck at his flesh. The ache in my gums increases. His hand tangles in my hair. I apply more pressure in hopes it will sate the pang of need inside of me.

The logical humanity inside of me begs for me to stop, but I can’t.

A scuffling noise alerts me that we are no longer alone, but I also no longer care. I need what he can give me. Need to have his taste inside of me.

Do it. Bite him. Feed from him.

Pulling back, I kiss around the mark I made, lavishing it with my tongue. Soon enough, I’ll have want I want. I move up higher to more tender skin. I open my jaw to satisfy this thirst and finally give in—but I’m no longer in his arms.

Instead, I’m flying backwards a good dozen-feet away.

I land with an oomph, roll and jump to my feet, teeth bared and hands clawed out like some kind of feral creature.

My eyes search out the rooftop for whoever just had the balls to pull me back.

It doesn’t take long to find the perpetrator.

Six-foot two with lean coiled muscles, not bulky like my sex buddy here. The kind that come from decades of mastering your physical strength. He has wavy dirty blond hair which touches the back of his neck. His jaw is covered by a five o’clock shadow, and his nose is crooked. Probably from one too many fights. Basically, sex on a stick.

Stepping forward, I hiss, and my entire body vibrates in rage.

Did I just seriously hiss? What the fuck Aurora?

This other dude isn’t even protesting. He’s standing there, eyes blank and dazed.

“You’re done here, aren’t you? Go back inside and tell all your friends that you had a great time.” There’s an accent at the end of his words. French maybe? My sex buddy doesn’t argue, doesn’t fight. He just nods to blue-eyes’ commands and starts walking away.

I step in front of him and snap my fingers. It doesn’t even phase him. He just keeps walking until almost plowing me over.

“What the hell?”

I turn, hands on my hips, and watch as he walks straight to the rooftop door and leaves. Once he’s out of sight, I turn my attention to the stranger who just ruined my good time.

“And who the hell are you?”