Oh no.
I should go.
I really, really should.
“You’re full of shit,” he sneers at me. “You know Beth told me you were a total bitch to her last time you saw her.”
My mouth drops open in shock. “Excuse me?” I cry out. “Beth told you that? She came up to me, understandably angry because you told her that I kissed you when it was you that kissed me!”
He shakes his head, looking away. “However you choose to remember it, that’s not how it happened.”
I blink with wide eyes, anger rushing through my veins. I shove him hard and he falls onto the ground. “You kissed me,” I hiss at him, stepping over him. “Don’t twist the facts because your sorry little tech bro ego can’t handle the rejection.”
“What the fuck, you bitch,” Matt spits out, scrambling to his feet. “I can’t believe I ever went out with you, you’re fucking weird and fucking crazy.”
None of this is computing. Matt, who was always so nice and easy-going and chill, doesn’t seem to be any of those things anymore. Now I’m starting to realize it was some sort of act, the nice guy persona a dude will put up in order to win someone over, often lamenting that “nice guys finish last” when things don’t go their way.
“And you’re a manipulative asshole,” I growl at him, the anger now lashing through me in a way I can’t control, swiftly turning to insatiable hunger. As lust and blood intertwine, I’m discovering it’s the same for blood and rage.
“Lenore,” I hear Solon’s voice warn from the background.
But he’s too late.
I lunge at Matt, grabbing his head with my hand and yanking it to the side, sinking my teeth right into his neck.
He tries to yelp but I already have my hand at his mouth, smothering his cries, the noise buried by the music thumping out from the club. His blood flows freely from his neck into my mouth and I’m draining him as quickly as I can, f
ueled by hunger and revenge and—
Suddenly Solon’s hands are wrapping around me, pulling me back, my fangs unhooking, and it’s then that I realize what I’ve done.
It’s also then that Matt realizes it too.
He stares at me in horror, hand at his neck to stop the bleeding, staggering on his feet. I didn’t take enough, he won’t die, but he’s looking at me like he wishes he were dead. He at least wishes I were dead.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, trying to spit up the rest of the blood in my mouth, the taste suddenly disagreeing with me. It’s not Solon’s blood, it doesn’t bring me life in the same way. This belongs to a shallow, manipulative, ingenuine boy with whom I never had any chemistry to begin with.
And with blood, chemistry is everything.
“You psychopath,” Matt says, his voice ragged, wincing from the pain. “You killed Elle, didn’t you? You did the same to her, didn’t you?”
I shake my head, tears rushing to my eyes. “No, I didn’t kill her, I didn’t kill her, I loved her, I swear to you.”
“Lenore,” Solon says, his voice a command.
Both Matt and I look at him. He’s never looked more like a warrior—or a mob boss, chin raised high, eyes dark and focused on Matt, steady as a rock.
“You killed her,” Matt says, pointing at him with his free hand. “You killed her. Both of you did.” He looks to me, shaking his head. “What do you think you are, vampires? You’re a fucking sick freak!”
I look around in a panic, praying that no one is lurking nearby. It’s empty back here, but I know people aren’t far away. All he has to do is raise his voice, and if no one in the club hears us, then the bouncer definitely will.
“Lenore,” Solon says again, and this time his voice is a warning.
Warning me of something I’m not going to like.
He moves so fast behind Matt that Matt is still blinking at the spot that Solon once was, wondering where he went.
But Solon is right behind Matt now.