Shattered Promises 02 - Fractured Souls by Jessica Sorensen Read Free Book Online Page B

two large men dressed in black suits stationed in front of a shut door. Neither of them acknowledge us and we continue walking, the music from the bar fading the further down we go.
    My wrist has stopped bleeding, but there’s a drying trail on my hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
    He nods, and then shakes his head, letting out a sigh that seems to clear the tension between us just a little. “I’ll get there… I just… I just hate drinking blood.” He avoids eye contact with me. “Yet I don’t, which makes me hate it more. And yours…” He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. “God, it smelled so intoxicating.”
    My heart aches for him, but at the same time his words put a wave of hunger in me; one that wants to feed, or him to feed on me anyway. We’re embarking into dangerous territory and, even though I know it, it still takes me off guard.
    “You didn’t drink it, though,” I remind him. “Only drew it from my body.”
    “Still, I wanted to drink it.” His gaze meets mine as we arrive in front of a door at the end of the hallway. There’s a colossal, golden and black vase on each side and a mirror above it that reveals our reflections. We look high and sedated. “I wanted to taste you, so fucking bad.”
    I’m unsure what to say to him. “Okay.”
    He seems as perplexed as I do. “Okay?”
    I’m not sure what we’re agreeing to, but it feels like we’re agreeing to something. The atmosphere lightens and Laylen’s demeanor changes, his posture unstiffening, his jaw loosening.
    He hesitates before knocking on the door. “Stay by me at all times,” he whispers.
    I quickly nod as several latches click, and then the door cracks open.
    “What do you want?” a voice snarls through the crack as smoke rushes out of it.
    “I’m here to talk to Draven,” Laylen states calmly.
    The door opens wider and a shorter man with silky blond hair and wearing a black suit steps forward. “Concerning what?”
    Laylen tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Concerning the donum of obscurum .”
    “You’re very brave to come here and say such a thing,” the blond guy states, his gaze sliding to me. “Is this an offering?"
    Laylen protectively leans in toward me. “No, she’s with me.”
    The guy rolls his eyes and starts to shut the door. “Come back when you have something to offer. He doesn’t just share his gift with anyone.”
    Laylen flattens his hand on the door and shoves his foot into the crack at the bottom, holding it open. “I’ll offer him something else, just not the girl.”
    The guy considers this for a moment, his eyes wandering to my wrist as he licks his lips. “Just a second.” He steps back and Laylen removes his hand and foot from the door so the guy can shut it.
    I shoot Laylen a puzzled look and he puts his finger to his lips. A second later the door opens again and potent smoke rushes out so quickly I choke back a cough. I’m not sure what kind of smoke it is and I think I might be better off left in the dark with this one.
    The door opens wider and a different man stands on the other side with greasy black hair, pasty skin, and he’s wearing a tuxedo while carrying a silver platter.
    His fangs point out as he grins, gesturing at the room. “Please, do come in.”
    Laylen takes my hand as we enter the room. My pulse promptly quickens and he gives it a gentle squeeze, then his fingers move lower so they’re covering the wounds on my wrist.
    The room is small, though broad, with an extensive table down the center that’s surrounded by spindle-back chairs. In every chair, a male Vampire sits holding cards, their fangs fully in view. Poker chips are stacked in front of them and there are ashtrays everywhere, covered with cigar butts. Standing behind each Vampire is a woman. They look human, but from a different era, their flowing corset dresses very out of date.
    Laylen confidently approaches the table, dragging a very unconfident me along with him. As we