Bloodlust

Burn

— LIAM —

"No apologies necessary," Venice said, smiling under her adorable, chagrined blush. "That was 100% my fault."

She was still rubbing her styled honey-blonde hair as I approached. I pretended to scope out her injury so I could stand close to her.

"May I?" I asked.

Her deep green eyes widened as though she hadn't expected me to be so close. "Oh, it's fine. I'll just have a little goose egg."

My eyes still swept over her head. There was a large red spot at the top of her forehead where the skin blended into her thick, blonde tresses. Her hair looked soft and silky.

"I feel terrible for scaring you," I said, flashing her an apologetic smile. My gaze dropped to the grocery bag in her hand, which appeared to have a frozen pizza in it. "I was going to invite you and your cousin over for lunch if you're not busy?"

Her pale cheeks turned an even darker shade of scarlet while she attempted to hide the grocery bag.

"Oh, yeah . . . Isaiah's actually at work right now. I just got back from a successful interview, so I'm sort of celebrating."

"That's terrific," I said. "Are you looking for company to celebrate with? I'd love to hear all about it."

"Well . . ." she stalled, glancing around nervously.

Shit, am I making her uncomfortable?

I wasn't an expert on the ways of women by any means, but they usually liked it when I was forward.

"No pressure," I said. "I just know it's more fun to celebrate with others."

My fingers itched to brush a few rogue gold strands of hair from her face, but I resisted. I found myself inexplicably enticed by this girl.

I tried to keep my distance from humans in general, but something about her kind eyes and innocent smile lured me in.

I wanted to know more about her. I knew I should just leave her be—nothing good could come from a relationship with a human. Nevertheless, I couldn't stop myself from approaching her every chance I had.

Shyly licking her lips, Venice nodded and met my gaze again. My stomach flipped at the warmth in those tender hazel orbs.

"Sure," she said. "I could use some company."

"Excellent." I beamed. "Let me help you with that."

I took the plastic bag from her before she could dispute the offer and followed her to the front door.

"Sorry if it's messy," she told me as she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

As we stepped inside, I didn't see a single thing out of place. The furniture and floors and walls were immaculate.

I sniffed discreetly at the air and smelled some kind of cinnamon candle. Venice's own sweet scent perfumed the air also.

She smelled like flowers after a summer rain and I couldn't help but imagine how her blood would taste on my tongue.