Addict by Lexi Blake Page B

gently pushed my head to one side, studying what Alan had done to my face. It hurt like a motherfucker, and I was pretty sure my face was a mask of nastiness. Blood flowed freely down my neck and on to my chest. My lover’s face turned savage. Not killing Alan had been an indulgent act on his behalf, and one it looked like he regretted.
    “Does it hurt?” Marcus asked with a frown. I knew he was deciding how much blood I would need and if he should do it here.
    “Not bad,” I lied, trying to smile. The muscles on one side of my face didn’t work anymore, but I knew he would prefer privacy. I would, too. For some reason, I didn’t want Trent to watch me sucking on Marcus’s chest. It’s weird, but knowing he would watch made me pause.
    Marcus shook his head and took my hand in his. “Liar. Come along. It isn’t serious. We’ll fix it upstairs. I believe you will find the king now desires a word.” The king was, indeed, towering over me. Marcus waved him off. “Upstairs, Daniel. I need to take care of her, then she can answer your questions.”
    Donovan nodded. He obviously didn’t like it, but he let it go. I seriously doubt he would allow his wife to answer questions while she was bleeding and half her face was slowly sliding off her body. “Fine. I’ll be up at your place in fifteen. I’ve called Henri and Alex. They’re the best doctors we have.”
    Marcus started to lead me away. I turned back, trying to speak to the king. “He’s on something. I need a toxicology report. Also, check his clothes and shoes to see if we can tell where he’s been in the last twenty-four hours.” Something was seriously wrong with Alan and his body was my best evidence. “Maybe I should stay here until Henri gets here.”
    Henri Jacobs was a doctor and an academic. He was also Marcus’s friend. I didn’t mention the other doctor. I’d been hoping to avoid Alexander Sharpe entirely.
    “It’s fine, Miss Owens,” a softly accented voice said. Henri pushed his way through the crowd. His beautiful wife was behind him. Kimberly Jacobs had an ice pack in her hand. Henri looked at me and frowned. He nodded to Marcus. “Make sure she gets enough. I would not want that to scar.”
    “Here.” Kim handed me the ice pack. “It’ll take the sting out until Marcus can fix it.”
    I thanked her, putting the cooling pack to my face. Henri assured me he would get everything I needed. Marcus had enough of my stalling and simply lifted me up and started for the elevators.
    As we passed Dev Quinn, it was hard not to notice the look of utter satisfaction on his face. I made a mental note to ask Marcus what he’d meant with that crack about “so-called destiny.”
     
     
    Ten minutes later, I sighed as I pressed my mouth to Marcus’s chest and the rich velvet of his blood flooded my body. It was almost like a dark, deep chocolate, and I couldn’t get enough of it. At the heart, of course, it isn’t the taste that keeps you coming back. It’s what it does to your body. That blood gives you a hint of the vampire’s strength. You feel happier, safer, more alive than you could ever feel without it. It was the best drug I’d ever tried, and in my fucked up youth, I’d tried them all.
    “Keep drinking, cara mia ,” Marcus said.
    I knew if I could see him, his fangs would be large and his eyes big and dark. It’s pleasurable for a vampire to share blood. If we had time, I was sure we’d make love again, but I could already hear the living room filling up with people.
    Marcus’s hands loosened around my hair, his signal that I’d taken enough. He wasn’t telling me I had to stop, merely that I could when I wished to. I took one long last mouthful and licked the hole on his chest. The minute I stopped sucking, it closed as though it had never been there.
    “Better,” he proclaimed after carefully studying my face.
    He kissed my forehead, and I glanced at myself in the mirror. If it hadn’t been for the blood on my skin