"Doctor Geoffrey is always extra nice to you too."

  I blushed. "He's nice to everyone, you know."

  "Not nice enough to take everyone on a dinner date, though." He whistled, but I ignored him now. Maybe I shouldn't have volunteered to help him after all.

  "What's your point? And why were you eavesdropping on our private conversation?" I retorted.

  "How could it be private when we were all in a room together?"

  "You know what I mean!"

  "Come on, Eric. Tell me something, don't you feel weird about going out with him?"

  "I'm not 'going out' with anyone. It's just dinner! It's not a real date." I found myself shouting, but I quickly backed down again, doing my best to ignore him. "I thought we were supposed to be cleaning."

  "He does have a husband. At least I heard he did, never seen him myself," Josh continued to drone on. "Don't you feel weird about going to dinner alone with a married man? And he's your boss, too! How scandalous."

  "Have you seen him wear a ring? No?" I snapped back. "No, so it doesn't matter. Besides, it's only a friendly dinner anyway because I helped him out. If you wanted to go out to dinner with me as friends, I wouldn't think anything weird about it either. So stop talking about it."

  Josh raised his hands defensively, stumbling as he stood up out of his seat, "Alright, alright. No need to chew my head off, I was just sayin'. Usually only people with guilty consciences are so defensive, but who am I to judge?"

  He continued on the opposite side of the room, making sure to stay far away from me as he cleaned. I felt bad. I hadn't meant to snap at him, but I didn't want anyone pushing my buttons either. And a part of our conversation made my heart feel torn. Yes, I was excited to go out to dinner with Doctor Geoffrey. Maybe a little more than I should have been.

  I mean, he was handsome and kind and… my boss.

  But that didn't mean it was going to go beyond that. Beyond a mere dinner to say thanks. Even if I wanted it to go further.

  "I gotta get some air," I told Josh, standing from the ground and storming out of the work space. I pulled at the collar of my scrubs, allowing some cool air to flow through. Why did everything have to be so complicated! I just wanted to spend time with Dr. G. It wasn't my fault if I was attracted to him, or if he just so happened to be attracted to me. He’d never outright said he was in a relationship, so… I'd just take everything at face value.

  I stomped into the staff restroom and leaned against the door. I locked it behind me, then slid down until my rear rested onto the cold bathroom floor.

  What was the point in the mental gymnastics I was trying to push myself through to feel better about the situation? As if the fact that he could possibly be in a relationship was the worst part.

  Maybe Geoffrey was being so nice because he knew that I knew his secret.

  Ever since I caught him in the donor fridge.

  Drinking blood.

  And stealing blood.

  I wasn't from Worj originally, but everyone talked about the history. About the rumors of paranormal freaks running around. But I hadn't believed it until I saw him. His teeth, so unnaturally sharp. Yet no one else questioned it. How he never ate or drank, and when he did, he'd often throw it up.

  It was like everyone else was willfully ignorant about him just because he was their boss.

  But something in me liked that. It made him dangerous, and it only enticed me even more.

  I was finally able to gather my composure after getting off the smelly floor and splashing my face with a bit of cold water. I was going to finish helping Josh clean the employee room, keep everything to myself, and stop overthinking things.

  Chapter 3

  Geoffrey

  I stared at my reflection in the windows of the restaurant, pulling at my suit jacket and eyeing up the maroon paisley shirt underneath. Even I had to admit I looked a little eccentric in my style of dress. Hopefully that wouldn't put Eric off. No, it was just a friendly dinner. It didn't matter if he found me attractive or not.

  And still I made sure to have a clean-shaven face and to make my hair as presentable as possible. Of course, Clay wasn’t here.. Once again, he’d gone out with that vampire whore of his. I didn't even know his name. But tonight, I wasn't going to let that bother me. I was going to enjoy dinner and not think about what my mate was doing and with whom.

  "Hey! You're here before I am." Eric's voice pulled my focus off myself and to him. I watched as he stepped out of his taxi, dusting off his pants and smoothing the wrinkles of his white collared shirt. He gave me an up and down look as well.

  "You're dressed interesting." He smiled, extending a hand out to me.

  I pursed my lips, taking his hand and shaking it in greeting.

  "You mean weird, don't you?"

  "No, I actually like it. It suits you, compared to how you normally dress at work." He laughed, flipping the ponytail of his curly hair off his shoulder and behind his back. He usually had his hair tied into a tight bun, but it was actually quite long.

  "Thanks. I hope you're hungry," I told him, hurrying to the door and holding it open for him.

  "Don't mind me, I stay ravenous."

  I followed him into the small building, standing at the front to wait to be seated. It smelled like an orchard in here, and an artificial scent of rain. I took a deep breath, standing in silence next to Eric. It was coming from him, his cologne. It smelled dashing, and it suited him. But it still wasn't heavy enough to hide his real scent—the smell of his body and the blood pulsing in his veins.

  I spared a glance to his visible throat, how his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous gulp.

  "Just two tonight, gentlemen?" the host asked.

  I nodded at her. No need to get so wrapped up about a taste I'd never have myself. But Eric’s throat did look delicious.

  "Yes, and a booth please," I said as we followed her into the dining area. There were two separate rooms with seats, both looking to have no more than ten tables. It was nice and intimate. Perhaps this was a little more romantic than I intended. I moved to pull out Eric's seat after the hostess set the menus down for us, but he waved my hands away.

  "You don't need to be so formal, Doctor. I'm a grown man, I can seat myself.”

  "Geoffrey," I corrected him as I opened up the menu. "You don't need to call me Doctor here. It's just us tonight."

  I watched over the top of the menu, the pink hue that flushed to his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

  "Okay… Geoffrey."

  "Order whatever you want. I think I might do a bottle of red. Do you prefer a cabernet or pinot noir?"

  "I can go for either, personally," he replied. I found myself biting my lower lip as I watched him scour the menu he'd been given. His dark, black eyes darting across each word glinted in the candlelight. He was the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, without the personality to match. He was far too shy, but somehow that made him even more endearing.

  "May I start you gentlemen with anything this evening?" the waiter spoke up as he approached me from behind, causing Eric to jump. He promptly folded his menu and sat it down, watching our server as he stood at our side.

  "Yes, start us off with a bottle of cabernet, if you would." I produced a fifty from my wallet, passing it on to the waiter who graciously took it with surprise.

  "Right away, sir!"

  Eric eyed me curiously, once again taking up the menu.

  "Are you trying to impress me, or do you just enjoy showing off?" he asked. I couldn't tell if he was joking or if he was actually offended.

  "Well… I just thought…" I trailed off, clearing my throat and looking at the menu as well. Obviously there was no point in trying to impress him in that way.

  "Hm?" he persisted, the frown slowly being replaced with a small smile.

  I shrugged, sinking into my seat. "I don't know. Money doesn't matter much to me, for my needs. I don't mind passing it along."

  Eric's head tilted to the side. "Are you trying to proposition me to be your sugar baby or something?"

  I sputtered at the accusation, losing my cool. "Of course not! That's not what I meant… ah. I didn't mean to give you that impression."

  "I'm just joking. It's nice to see you flustered for once, not the other way around." He laughed, leaning forward across the table. "You're always nice at work, but you can be so formal. It's nice to know that you're as human as the rest of us."

  Now it was my turn to laugh. Human, he says.

  "I guess we can't make assumptions about one another, despite how long we may have worked together."

  Before he could reply, our waiter returned, two glasses in hand. He deftly uncorked the bottle and poured us each a glass before setting the bottle onto the table.

  "Would you like any more time?"

  "No, no. I think we know what we want."

  Time went by almost too quickly. I had my very rare steak, mostly sucking on the meat before pretending to chew and spit it into my napkin more often than swallowing. Eric had his pasta and, while he offered me a bite which I refused, assured me that it was the best tasting meal he'd had in a long time.

  And the conversation just flowed with him.

  It reminded me of how things used to be with Clay—how he was actually interested in my life and what I did at one point in time. No longer, as he was far too taken up in the business of other humans and vampires.

  The thought made me angry, and it was a struggle to push it to the back of my head.

  "You're shaking." Eric placed his fork to the side, reaching to grab my fist which was indeed shaking.

  "I hadn't even noticed," I admitted, willing myself to still from the fury that was building inside of me. I grabbed my glass of wine with my free hand, downing the remnants of my glass before reaching to pour myself another.

  And yet Eric never released his grasp on me, nor did he drop the concerned look he held. The stare was enough to make me put the bottle back down with a heavy sigh.

  "I'm fine, honest."

  "You don't look it. And here I thought we'd had a lovely time." He pouted, which was of course, adorable. It made it easier to put on a happy face for him.

  "We are having a lovely time."

  "Then what's got you so upset?" His thumb trailed small circles across the top of my fist.

  “It's just a shame that it's ending so soon," I said, promptly averting from having to reveal the actual reason.

  "Is it?" He finally released my grasp, which I was actually upset about. When was the last time Clay touched me in such a concerned manner?

  "Yes, we close in twenty minutes. Your bill, sir." That waiter sure did know when to arrive at the most inopportune time. I didn't even bother to look at the receipt, simply handing over my card to him.

  "Maybe, you'd like to have dessert?" Eric said, though not looking into my eyes. He was folding his napkin in his lap, his cheeks reddening. Was it from the wine?

  "Is there a place open this late? Surely not in a town like Worj."

  "I made cupcakes the other day. We can enjoy one and have a cup of coffee before the night is over. Right?"

  "Is it not too late for you? We both have to be up early tomorrow for a shift."

  "I mean, it's no pressure or anything. I just didn't want to end the night like that." He smiled.

  Be still my barely beating heart.

  "Of course. You can call for the cab now, so it'll be ready by the time we walk out of here."

  "R-really?"

  I didn't know why he looked so shocked, but I nodded at him, waiting for the check to be returned.

  "Wonderful! I hope you like red velvet! It's my grandmother's recipe, so if you don't, just lie and say that you do."

  I snorted, "I'm sure I won't have to lie about it."

  Well, that in itself was a lie. Wine was alright on the stomach, but normal food was hard to digest. And as much as I didn't want to force myself to eat anything more than what I had tonight, I did desperately want to spend more time with Eric.

  After signing the check, receiving my card and a box for his leftovers, Eric and I made our way out of the establishment. I noticed how he continued to bump shoulders with me as we walked. I'd been around long enough to realize when someone was trying to push things further, but was too hesitant to actually do so on their own.

  Yet I did not want to push my luck. I didn't want to try anything only to be rejected in the end. And it made it even harder to try when my mate was still there in the back of my mind. Even when he'd cheated on me so many times, so blatantly in my face, I couldn't help but feel guilty. Perhaps the drinks were enhancing that guiltiness, but it was going to be hard to shake.

  Even in the cab on the way to his home, the guiltiness didn't waver. In fact, it grew—as did the anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach. I was going to his apartment, not returning home. More than once during the drive I was close to telling the driver to take a right, to take me to my cabin instead of to the Lion's Den, also known as Eric’s home. And not only were my nerves coming into play, but also my conscience. I might have swallowed too much of the steak, because my stomach was starting to turn. Damnable human food…

  Chapter 4

  Eric

  "Welcome to my humble abode," I said as I managed to unlock the front door. It was always so finicky, but that was the price one paid for such a cheap apartment. I could afford better, but I'd been saving for a house of my own.

  I turned on the lights in the kitchen, right next to the front door, and headed straight for the fridge.

  "Would you like milk in your coffee?" I asked him, pulling out the tray of cold cupcakes and setting it on the small island counter, next to the sink.

  "No, thanks. It's quite cozy in here."

  I sure hoped he didn't see the face I made. I glowered up at him. Was he calling it cozy because it didn't fit his materialistic standards? No, Geoffrey wasn't like that. I did my best to brush it off as I made haste to brew up a pot of French roast, watching him all the while. He was staring at the pieces of art on the wall, standing there aimlessly as though he didn't realize there was a couch to sit down on.

  "Want me to take your jacket?"

  "Oh. Sure. Thank you," he replied, passing it over to me as I approached him. Something was definitely up with him. He looked even paler than usual, and every now and again I'd catch him with a slight grimace on his face. It was like he was in pain, but from what I was unsure.

  "Geoffrey, are you alright?" I finally got the nerve to ask him.

  He spun to face me, blinking as though I'd asked him something in another language.

  "Me? Why do you ask?"

  "You're sweating." I smiled, quickly hanging up his suit jacket and pointing to the black sofa. "You can sit there, the air conditioner should blow on you if you sit far enough to the left."

  "Sorry. It must be the wine."

  "Perhaps we shouldn't do coffee then, if you're already so hot."

  And hot he was. Even with that confused, upset, sweaty exterior of his. No one could deny how absolutely attractive he was —minus the pallid tone to his skin.

  "Uh-huh." Was he nervous around me?

  "Are you even up for sweets? Or are you feeling sick?" I paced around the counter towards him, plopping down close on the cushions. He fiddled with his tie, loosening it up, then rested his face on his palm, massaging his temples.

  "Geoffrey…" I persisted, trying to examine him. Did he get food poisoning? Maybe vampires weren't supposed to eat 'people food.’ "Would you like to lie down? Some water, maybe?" I rested a hand on his knee, giving it a slight shake.

  "No, I just feel… ugh. Maybe I should lie down. Call me a cab home, will you?"

  "Was it the food?"

  He was quick to nod, still hiding his face in his hands and swallowing hard.

  Maybe… something other than water would help?

  Maybe it was the drink talking, but if my suspicions about what he was were true…

  I undid the top buttons of my collar, pulling my shirt open and to the side, leaning over his lap. Finally he faced me, splitting his fingers enough so that he could peek through at what I was doing.

  "Go ahead," I urged, squeezing my eyes shut. Perhaps a tad more dramatic than I meant to be.

  "Go ahead and what?" he said, gagging slightly.

  "Won't it make you feel better? To have a drink?" I said, pushing my throat closer towards him, peeking an eye open to watch him as well. He was still, no longer shaking or quivering. He was like a statue. Just as suddenly as his froze, his hand fell away from his face.

  "What are you talking about?"

  I sat back up with a frown, practically leaning over his lap as I tried to get even closer.

  "There's no need to mess around. I want you to feel better, so have a damn drink. As long as it doesn't hurt."

  "You're drunk. Maybe you should have that cup of coffee after all."

  That was enough runaround for me. I placed both my hands on his lap, staring at him closely, our noses only inches from one another.

  "I've seen you in the donor cooler before. Taking blood. Drinking it. I know about Worj and its crappy past."

  "Are you implying…"

  "I know what you are. At least, I think I do," I hesitated, but remained steadfast. "And if you think having a taste of me will make you feel better, then just do it. You're my boss. I care about you."

  Okay, justifying what I was doing by saying he was my boss wasn't exactly the whole of it. I liked him much more than that, perhaps more than he liked me. But I didn't know how else to get him to bite me already.

  Geoffrey gave me a long, hard stare that made my blood run cold. I hope that wasn't unappetizing.

  "Oh, for fuck’s sake." He was quick to grab my face now, tilting me to face away from him. I could feel his breath, strangely cool rather than warm, on my throat.

  "Just do it before I freak out." I willed myself to not do just that, squinting my eyes again.

  "Just a drop, then."

  The pain was overwhelming, and here I thought it was going to be like getting a shot from the doctor.

 

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