Bitter Bite Read Online Free PDF

himself to get a grip, but it didn’t work.
His heart still beat way too fast.
    Alaric is a vampire.

 
    Chapter Three
     
    Alaric knew the moment he stepped into the alley that Gideon was
there. He could smell him, taste him like fine wine against his skin. He
snarled, not wanting to feel so exposed. He’d never wanted a consort. Never
wished for one, and now all of his instincts clamored to let the bond deepen.
Well, screw that, as they said in this day and age. He watched his consort ease
around the corner, probably heading for work.
    “I’ll have to find him later.” He frowned, looking down at the old
man he’d let fall to the ground. Stanley wasn’t dead, just drained to
unconsciousness, but Gideon didn’t know that. Alaric hadn’t taken enough blood
to kill the man, but he’d wanted to frighten him almost to death. Alaric wanted
him to suffer. Forty years ago Alaric had been in Saigon, during the evacuation
of the American troops. He’d been hunting Brosius, the sadistic bastard who’d
murdered Alaric’s last surviving descendent. While he was there, he’d struck up
a friendship with a young soldier, Edmund. They’d spent a few weeks together,
hanging out at night when Alaric could spare an hour or two. One unlucky
evening, Stanley and his belligerent friends had found them together.
    They found us because I was a fool, he thought, wiping at his mouth.
The taste of blood lingered unpleasantly. He should never have taken Edmund as
a lover, but something about the man soothed him. Stanley and his pals found
their intimacy abhorrent, and one of them thought it would be more amusing to
stake them both than expose them as homosexuals in the usual way. Stories of
phantoms haunting certain places in Vietnam had circulated throughout the
American troops, and Stanley and his cronies obviously felt it was their
Christian duty to feed the rumors. None of them really believed there were any
such creatures as vampires, but a taste for blood had been whetted by the war.
He and Edmund made convenient targets for their sick fascination with killing.
    “Little did they know they should’ve staked me first.” Alaric pivoted
and heading toward the street. He’d been lulled into complacency back then, or
he would’ve been able to save his lover and gone on his way with no one the
wiser about their relationship. Instead, that terrible evening, Alaric had gone
to fetch Edmund some water after they’d made love. When he’d come back, Edmund
was gone. Dead. A wooden stake through his heart.
    When Alaric caught up with Stanley and his crew, he’d vowed to
kill them, but the rising sun drove him underground before he could complete
the job. The soldiers shipped out that day and Alaric lost their trail to the
ocean. He’d found them again, years later, but all of them had families and
Alaric couldn’t bring himself to harm innocents.
    “And yet here I am once more, caught in a similar trap,” he said,
walking down the street. The glowing sign of the club beckoned just ahead. He
knew Gideon was working the door tonight. He’d have to compel him to forget
what he’d seen or all hell would break loose and he’d never locate the hole where
Brosius had gone to ground.
    “And I’m not going to let that foul blood-eater escape again.”
    * * * *
    Gideon checked IDs on autopilot. His mind kept circling back to
the alley and the crumpled body on the ground. Alaric wasn’t human. He couldn’t
be, not with that kind of strength.
    I should have called the cops. He was angry with himself all over again for not doing so. When
the line of people finally disappeared, he ducked into the club and stationed
himself near the coat check. From here, he had a great view of the bar and
Hannah. He wanted to keep an eye on her. The last thing he wanted was for her
to get mixed up in the mess with Alaric. Since he’d seen the vampire attack the
old man just down the street from the club, he worried Alaric would show up inside,
like a bad