CRAVING (The Elite Book 2) Read online

  CRAVING

  Copyright © 2020 by Hanleigh Bradley

  www.hanleighbradley.com

  [email protected]

  First Edition

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  The characters, organisations and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

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  Dear Reader,

  This series might get a little dark.

  It might break your heart.

  There’s no guaranteed happiness.

  There’s only death.

  Hanleigh

  CRAVING

  His was my blood. Mine was his touch.

  Prologue

  I’ve tasted your blood. I’ll never forget it. I’ll always crave it.

  I’ll reintroduce you to the world that you think you know, showing you the world that is hidden from the humans, hidden from you.

  I will show you just how little you know about this world, how little you know yourself. I’ll show you everything and drink you almost dry over and over until I’ve had my fill.

  Then when I’m done, I’ll either kill you or change you.

  That will all depend on whether or not I still desire you. Something tells me, I will always crave you.

  But will your body be enough once I stop thirsting for your blood?

  Chapter One

  Everette

  This isn’t what I agreed to or at least it isn’t what I envisioned when I agreed to her request. That damn foolish, completely pointless request.

  What possible reason would a dead girl have to work?

  It would appear that Farah has yet to realise her fate. That’s the only explanation I can find for why she is so bloody insistent about returning day in and day out to this blasted café.

  I’ve humoured her for a week.

  A week too long if you ask me. Which she doesn’t.

  She doesn’t like it when I show up. She says I make her nervous. I don’t care. I do it anyway. I sit at that same table from where I first watched her, drinking a disgusting Americano and responding to emails on my phone, my gaze rarely leaving her.

  No one else would even be able to tell I’m watching her. My eyes move too fast, flitting between her and my phone’s screen. She probably doesn’t even realise it herself.

  It’s harder now, sitting here watching the humans gawk at her, drooling over what is mine.

  Farah is oblivious though. She hasn’t got the faintest clue how much I crave her. Or how much the men around us lust after her. And I sure as hell won’t be the one to tell her.

  I like her ignorance. I like that strange naivety that seems to belong to a long ago age, a simpler time when women knew nothing about the minds of men. What bullshit!

  Of course, she knows. All women know. It’s impossible to miss the way they stare at her. Farah might be naïve but she’s not blind.

  I’m irritable today, thirsty.

  When I first agreed to her coming and going as she pleased, I never realised how much waiting I would find myself doing.

  I hate waiting.

  It’s not something I’m accustomed to. Humans and Vampires alike usually obey my every whim. But not Farah.

  She’s about as obedient as an obstinate bull.

  Fortunately she’s far prettier.

  I wouldn’t mind so much except I can’t even stand coffee. It tastes like dishwater. Why couldn’t she work in a bar or a pub or something? At least alcohol I’d be able to enjoy.

  She catches my eye but doesn’t so much as smile. The girl who struggles to refuse me anything when we’re alone, is very good at ignoring me in public.

  It’s probably because she feels safer here. She thinks I can’t kill her if we’re surrounded by others but boy, is she wrong.

  If I wanted her dead, there’s nothing on this earth that could stop me.

  The only thing keeping her alive is my thirst, a thirst I’ve yet to quench. Once I stop craving her, when I’ve finally had my fill, I’ll end her life.

  It’s already been decided. It was a fate determined with our very first meeting.

  She approaches my table, playing indifferent. With a blue cloth, she wipes the table top, not meeting my eye.

  “We’ll be closing in a moment, sir,” she tells me as politely as she would a stranger. There’s none of the intimacy you’d expect from the woman you’re currently fucking.

  “I’ll wait outside,” I say for her ears only.

  She scowls at me, opening her mouth to protest.

  “I’m going back to my place tonight.”

  She says it with as much confidence as she can muster.

  I’m not a patient Vampire. I’ve had no cause for patience in all the centuries I’ve existed.

  Until Farah.

  “That’s not the agreement, Farah.”

  Her nostrils flare but she doesn’t speak. Glaring at me for only a moment, she moves to the next table as I drop some money onto the table and clamber to my feet.

  I brush past her, enjoying the way I make her shiver. She wants my touch almost as much as I want her blood.

  ***

  She takes her time. It’s as if she thinks I have all fucking night. And I guess she’s right. I have eternity but I have no intentions of spending it waiting for her.

  When she finally locks up the café, I’m sitting behind the wheel of my Bugatti, impatiently tapping my fingers on the steering wheel.

  She knows I’m here. She’s looked my way more than twice. But she has no intention of getting in the car. I can tell from the way she hesitantly waves goodbye to her co-workers before placing her hands in her coat pockets.

  I don’t know where this new streak of rebellion has come from but it won’t last.

  She begins to walk in the direction of her apartment building and I drive slowly behind her.

  I won’t force her but she will get in my car and I will take her home.

  It’s just a matter of time.

  Something I have plenty of.

  Farah

  I don’t know why I didn’t just get in the car. The last thing I want to do after a gruelling shift at the café is walk home.

  At least at Everette’s house there’s a warm dinner waiting for me that I don’t have to cook. Not to mention a crazy Vampire who wants to kill me.

  What more could a girl want?

  Everette isn’t like the Vampires I’ve read about. He’s told me enough times that I should know it by now. Except he seems exactly like them. Stubborn… moody… thirsty…

  Either way, I know how this ends, the same way all those books end, with the heroine’s death.

  I’m not sure I mind.

  Or at least, I don’t mind as much as I think I should. And that’s why I can’t get into that car.

  Because I’m not the heroine in a novel and there is no happy ever after when you’re already dead.

  And that’s what I am. Perhaps not yet, but eventually, Everette will kill me.

  And then what?

  Nothing. That’s what.

  So I have no choice but to pu
t off the inevitable for as long as possible. Even if it’s just for a day or a few hours, I want to live.

  Chapter Two

  Everette

  I parallel park before climbing out of the car and making my way to Farah’s side. My hands in my pockets, I begin to whistle.

  It’s easy to pretend that I’m not frustrated as hell with her. I’ve had plenty of practice controlling my emotions.

  I have limited patience but an abundant capacity for hiding it.

  She ignores me.

  “Where are you going, Farah?”

  “Home.”

  “It’s cold.”

  I don’t know why I care. Even cold, she’ll taste divine.

  “So what?” she asks, stopping short and turning abruptly to face me.

  “Get in the car.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  I’m not used to being refused, not by my own kind and definitely not by humans.

  Her hands move to her hips and I almost want to laugh at how adorable she is when she tries to defy me.

  “This isn’t what we agreed, Farah.”

  “I don’t care what we agreed,” she says quietly, almost shyly.

  “You didn’t seem to dislike our agreement this morning,” I reply.

  My voice comes out softer than I intend as I step towards her, raising a hand to her cheek, brushing it softly with my fingertips.

  Sometimes I can’t tell if my actions are intentional or the result of some predatory genetic predisposition.

  Farah is my prey after all.

  “What do you want, Everette?”

  “I want to take you home.”

  “I don’t want to go to your house.”

  She tries to walk around me. I don’t understand her refusal. It’s new. What’s equally new is that I care.

  “Why?” I ask, taking her by the hand and leading her towards my car.

  Though she murmurs another refusal, her body doesn’t refuse as I lower her into the car and buckle her in.

  Then I kiss her cheek before meeting her eye. I don’t know what I see there. She’s clearly afraid, but she’s always been scared of me. As she rightly should be. Fear is the only rational response she’s ever shown me.

  “I don’t want to die, Everette.”

  The words are a whisper, an almost silent plea for me to spare her. But I can’t. We’re too far gone for that.

  “You won’t,” I tell her softly. “At least not tonight.”

  “You can’t promise that.”

  She looks haunted and I guess she sort of is. Haunted by the ghost of herself. She’s just waiting for death to come for her. It’s an impending fate that I’ve brought upon her.

  I should feel guilty I suppose.

  Except I don’t. I will make no apologies for what I am. I’ve been nothing but honest from the get go.

  “Humans die, Farah. You could die right now and not just at my hand.” My words are cold and blunt and maybe a little cruel. “Another human could kill you or a car crash… You could burn alive in your apartment because your neighbour left a candle burning. Shit like that happens every day.”

  “But I won’t die like that,” she says confidently, “because I’ll never have the chance. You’ll kill me first.”

  I don’t know what she wants from me. Perhaps I should have just killed her the first time we met, except that had seemed too wasteful.

  I wanted – still want – to relish in her taste.

  I close her door and make my way around the car. Once sitting behind the wheel, I start the car without talking to her. I don’t really know what to say to her.

  Heading in the direction of my house, I ignore the niggling feeling that I should take her home. It wouldn’t kill me to spend the night there, but I don’t want to give in. Not again. She’s already had more than enough concessions out of me.

  “Everette, I told you I want to go home,” she says exasperatedly.

  “And I told you that isn’t what we agreed.”

  “Fucks sake! Don’t I get any say at all in how I live my life? Or when I die? How I die?”

  “Humans don’t get to choose when or how they die, they just die.”

  “And what? That makes it okay? That makes you killing me alright?”

  With a huff, I turn the car abruptly, performing a U-turn in the middle of the road then put my foot down on the accelerator.

  I watch as the speedometer increases with every rev of the engine. It’s a good job the streets are deserted because I quickly hit the one twenty mark.

  “You’re going too fast,” Farah tells me as she grips whatever she can, slamming her eyes closed.

  I don’t bother replying. There’s no point telling her that she’s safer in this car than out of it, that my driving should be the least of her worries.

  And what’s more, I’m pissed. I don’t give a shit if I’m scaring her as my foot pushes down further, still accelerating.

  It’s only when I’m on her street that I slam my foot down on the brake, coming to a screeching stop.

  “Get out,” I say between gritted teeth without looking at her.

  Even through my peripheral vision I can see her shaking but she doesn’t move.

  “I thought you wanted to live, Farah,” I say, reaching past her to open the door for her.

  Still she remains silent, breathing harshly, her fists tight around her safety belt.

  “You’re a real arsehole. You know that, right?” She says eventually.

  “Like I give a shit,” I say under my breath, too quietly for her to hear.

  I turn to look at her, ignoring the disquiet I feel at the way her skin has turned ashen.

  “Aren’t you leaving?”

  She unbuckles her belt without saying anything and shakenly climbs from the car. Her legs are wobbly as she stumbles onto the pavement. I pull her door shut before re-starting the ignition and driving off.

  I circle the block a few times before returning to her apartment. As much as I might want her to think I’ve gone, there’s no way in hell I’m actually going to leave.

  She might not like it but she’s mine.

  She’s no longer outside when I pull up and for a split second I’m disappointed. Leaning forward, my arms on the steering wheel, I look up to her window.

  The lights are on and I can picture what she’s doing perfectly. She’ll be ranting about how much of an arse I am while preparing for bed.

  She’ll shower. She always showers after a shift at the café. Then she’ll pull on some pyjamas and grab a book – a book about Vampires – and then curl up in bed.

  My little bookworm loves the imaginary monsters in her books, but apparently, she’s less keen on them in real life.

  I might have made a mistake letting her live. Or maybe, the mistake was letting her do what she wanted.

  My phone buzzes. I don’t even glance at it. There’s always work to be done. Life and death decisions to be made.

  When it buzzes again, I read the message that lights up my screen.

  Go home.

  The message is from Farah. I consider ignoring it but I can’t resist giving her even a fraction of the lip she has given me tonight.

  No.

  I’m tempted to climb out of the car and up her trellis and into her bedroom. In fact, that was always my plan. I was just waiting for her to fall asleep.

  I’ll call the police.

  I chuckle at that idea. Farah still doesn’t know what the world she lives in is really like.

  Do it.

  I probably shouldn’t goad her. But really, this isn’t how I’d hoped this evening would go. I had planned on taking her home, fucking her, drinking some of her blood, feeding her some of Sybil’s cooking that she seems to like so much and then sleeping for at least twelve hours.

  I will if you don’t leave.

  Fucking hell. I’m not giving in. Not again. She’s already won. She’s in her own fucking apartment. What more does she want?
<
br />   Stop threatening me, Farah and just damn well do it.

  She takes her time to reply, probably typing and retyping every reply she can think up, if the three dots on my screen are anything to go by.

  Please.

  Chapter Three

  Farah

  When his name lights up my screen, I answer his call immediately, even though I know I shouldn’t.

  “What?” I ask, sounding more resigned than I’d like.

  “I want to come up,” he says so assertively it’s hard to imagine he can even comprehend that I might actually say no.

  “Can’t you just go home?”

  “That’s not an option.”

  “Why?” I ask exasperated.

  “You’re not there.”

  His tone is surprisingly gently considering I know he’s furious with me.

  I don’t say anything. There’s very little point. I’ve already lost. I’m going to give in. I always give in.

  “I want to come up,” he says again.

  “I told you I’d call the police.”

  It’s a hollow threat and he can probably hear it in my tone. I honestly don’t believe the police would do me much good against Everette.

  “You can do that if you’d like but it would be a waste of time. Time that could be better spent.”

  “How?” I find myself asking even though I know I shouldn’t.

  His voice is husky when he replies.

  “Well… I had planned to make you come at least twice tonight…”

  I cut him off. If I let him describe in detail what he had planned to do to me, there is no way my resolve will remain intact.

  “Sorry to spoil your plans but I can’t tonight.”

  “You can’t?” He almost sounds entertained, which I guess is an improvement on his usual bored indifference.

  “I’m on my period,” I say the first thing that comes to mind.

  “You’re not,” he replies with deft certainty.

  Blinking, I momentarily have to remind myself that I’m fucking a Vampire. There’s no way he wouldn’t know if I was bleeding.

  It’s funny really because usually it’s not the sort of thing I forget. In fact, I’ve been able to think of little else since finding out a week ago.