A Price to Pay (opening text)
Ryder rubbed his brow and caught sight of his porcelain white hand, a glaring reminder of his need to feed. Not that he needed a reminder. Bloodlust gnawed at his insides incessantly, its pangs matching the beat of the band’s bass.
He gazed down at his target from the second-floor balcony of the blues bar—Blaire Bonet, the most beautiful woman in his university’s graduating class. Red and blue club lights panned the dance floor and enhanced the shimmer of her dress as she moved with the music.
Why did Leandro have to choose her to be his first, though? Not that Ryder didn’t want her. He wanted her more than anything. She was his dream, his fantasy, and had been for the last four years at university, ever since she tutored him in math freshman year. Though she’d barely acknowledged him beyond a polite hello after that. No surprise. Women never noticed him. But she was all he thought about, the very reason he had begged Leandro to turn him.
“Here.” Leandro bumped his arm, pulling his attention from Blaire.
He looked down, saw a glass filled with dark liquid, and raised his brows.
“Don’t get excited. It’s a Petite Sirah. You’d smell it if it were blood. And you know better. You get none until you get hers.” Leandro looked toward Blaire.