...The blood smell filled Alex’s nostrils, stirring his thirst. He could have healed the man by licking the wound, but he risked losing control over satisfying his blood thirst and draining him if he tasted him. He let the blood flow. It wasn’t a life-threatening wound.

“Broken, is it? Tsk, tsk,” Alex said. He leaned down.

“No!” Guido cried in terror as he tried to roll away.

“Not to worry. I won’t bite,” he whispered in guttural tones only his victim could hear. “There is, after all, some discrimination and honor among my kind.” Alex pressed a vital spot in Guido’s neck and knocked him out.

Alex wiped the knife on the sleeve of Guido’s coat and slid the blade into an inner pocket in his jacket. He looked down at Dante. “Are you injured?”

Dante shook his head. “You’re very good at this. I’m in your debt.”

Alex stiffened at the sight of the small gun in Dante’s hand.

“Mine. Couldn’t get to it until you freed me, and by the time my shaky hands got it out of my ankle holster, you didn’t need my help.” He re-holstered the weapon.

Alex smiled and took a good look at Dante now he had the chance. The eyes were even deeper and more mysterious in the dark. His lips promised delicious satisfaction in the act of love. Considering the whole, it wasn’t just Dante’s remembered ass sending shivers of desire shooting through Alex’s belly to his groin. Alex released some hold on his control and let himself hear the wildly beating heart and feel the rush of blood bounding through the arteries in Dante’s neck.

The excitement of the fight, the smell of Guido’s blood made Alex’s need to either feed or fuck surge through him like a tsunami. The salty scent of the blood pulled at him like a powerful magnet. His dick fattened and his pucker tightened. The feelings were pure pleasure and not to be denied.

On impulse, he reached down and gave Dante a hand up, then he gazed into Dante’s eyes as he slowly drew him close, ready to release him at the slightest resistance—and hoping he’d be able to do so. In the breathless silence that followed, he cupped his hands and cradled Dante’s face in them. Slowly, he ran his thumbs over Dante’s cheeks, enjoying a warmth so different from the unnatural coolness of his own. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

Dante’s warm breath held the faint hint of a mellow wine. His gaze locked on Alex’s and he spoke in a breathy voice, as if entranced by the hands on his face. “Mostly shaken up. I think my arm and throat will be sore tomorrow, but I’m okay.”

He’d planned to demand why Dante followed him. Instead, unable to resist his urges, Alex leaned in to capture the seductive lips with his mouth. Thoughts of anything else fled.

Dante stiffened, and Alex thought that perhaps he’d been wrong; perhaps this man wasn’t gay. Or maybe he wasn’t as attracted to Alex as Alex was to him, or as stirred up from the fight as he was. Then, as Alex softened his mouth and deepened the kiss, Dante’s body relaxed and he responded hungrily with an exploring, searching tongue, as if he, too, needed release in the aftermath of the attack—to let go of the fear and, in a good fuck, exhaust the stockpiled chemicals his body had triggered so he might fight or flee.

Alex let his hard cock, its full veins thrumming hot against its velvety skin, press against an echoing erection that strained against expensive designer jeans and threatened to break through the fly. He couldn’t have described in words how good, how necessary that felt. He slid his hands down the silk shirt covering Dante’s shoulders and then around to his appealing ass to pull them even tighter together. Knowing how sore Dante’s throat must be, he sent a soft trail of kisses away from the mouth and to the salty drink his throat offered.

His felt his fangs come out, prepared to graze over or sink into the warm skin covering the tantalizing pulse and drink in the rich blood throbbing there. He groaned. And fought temptation.

I can’t do this. This Dante didn’t see my eyes glow red, doesn’t know what I am.