Chapter 9. Pent-Up Emotions

MAXIMILIANO

"Where the fuck are you?"

I took a long drag on my second stick. My sleep-hungry brain replayed the question in a dizzying loop, but another ten minutes wouldn't hurt.

Armed and bored out of my wits, I stood in the dim parking lot, waiting for a call from someone who owed me at least two hours tonight and roughly a pint of fresh blood.

Not Mykaela, of course. Not anymore. She was officially done with me. She'd rather keep pretending I was dead.

I even used my cousin's new baby as bait. Still got nada. Fine. I'd give it another week.

For now, a temp blood bag would have to do. Alive and well—for my worsening health's sake. By sheer luck, I'd found someone even younger and healthier than Kel. I just had to be sure about the girl's real identity. Tonight, I'd make her fess up.

I made my way past the bored partygoers carelessly lined up outside the entrance of the two-storey club. Eurotrash music seeped out of the establishment. The