Belle Morte Bites (Belle Morte 4.3)

June

Modern Day

As Belle Morte came into view for the first time, June Mayfield felt like she'd swallowed electricity.

Her blood was supercharged. Her bones felt full of light.

The Vampire House of her dreams was just minutes away, and it felt like she'd been working towards this for her entire life. Until now, she almost hadn't believed that it was real, that she had been accepted as a blood donor, but now Belle Morte was at the end of the road, more Gothic and beautiful than its photos.

Donors chattered around her, but June tuned them out.

The champagne glass in her hand shook slightly, and she took a hasty sip, hoping it would calm her nerves.

It didn't.

Finally, the limo reached the wrought-iron gates barring the way into the mansion's grounds, and a sea of bright flashes went off as the press surrounded the car, snapping photos and yelling questions.

June gripped her glass even tighter.

In many ways she'd left her old life behind the second she got into this limo, shedding it like a skin she no longer needed, but stepping out of this limo felt like crossing a final line.

Once she went into that house, she wouldn't just be June Mayfield anymore. She would be June Mayfield, blood donor.

She was already nearest to the door, but she edged closer anyway, in case another donor tried to take her place. She intended to be first out of this limo.

The door opened. Framed against a starry sky, was a tall man with broad shoulders and a shaved head who June instantly recognised as Dexter Flynn, head of security.

"Hi," June said breathlessly.

Dexter wasn't a vampire, but he'd been with Belle Morte almost since the beginning, which meant he was an important part of the world that she'd longed for.

"Hello," Dexter said, smiling, and extended his hand.

June took it, and he helped her out of the car.

The press swarmed around her, and for a moment it was so disorienting it was almost scary, and June fought the urge to take a step back. She swallowed hard, pushing that fear deep down, and shook her auburn hair off her face, smiling for the cameras.

"How do you feel about coming to Belle Morte?" a voice called, louder than the others, though June couldn't see who'd said it. She was surrounded by so many people.

"Amazing," she said, in the general direction of the voice.

"What do you hope to achieve?" said another voice.

June smiled – the smile that she'd practised in the bathroom mirror every day since receiving her acceptance letter.

"I'm just here to feed vampires and have a good time," she said.

It was true – the money that she'd be paid for her services would change her life, and even after she eventually left Belle Morte, nothing would ever be the same again. But all that paled in comparison to the fact that she'd be living with vampires.

From the second they'd stepped out of the shadows ten years ago, June had been obsessed with them. Everything about them fascinated her – their beauty, that fluid way they moved, more graceful than any human, the way their eyes could turn to that blazing red, the sharpness of their fangs, their inhuman strength, their immortality. She wanted it all, and she could never have it.

Being a donor was the next best thing.

Her hand crept up to touch her throat, and anticipation shivered through her. She wouldn't be fed from tonight, but tomorrow she'd finally know how it felt when those gleaming fangs slid into her skin.