Blood Inheritance: A Marriage of Convenience Vampire Romance (The Bloodline Dagger Series Book 1) by Kay Widow

Author:Kay Widow [Widow, Kay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-06-25T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen: Ezra

It is not difficult to rise from Lydia’s bed without waking her up. It is just as easy to sneak out of her apartment without disturbing her. She is in a deep sleep, slumbering through the remaining high of my venom and the pleasant heaviness that comes post-intimacy.

I didn’t intend for it to go that far. When I learned that she was a virgin, I silently swore to myself that I would not lay a hand on her again—not even the smallest of bites.

But, the way she begged me with that wide-eyed innocence of hers… in the end, I couldn’t bring myself to deny her.

I shake all those thoughts from my head as I slip out into the midnight air. I have unfinished business to deal with.

It will be quick. It is always so easy. Too easy, almost. Humans have no idea how vulnerable they are. How simple it is to hunt them down.

Just as I predicted, the three men who targeted my sweet Lydia are still at the bar. It is half past midnight, the live music event is over, and the crowd is dwindling. The alleged leader of the trio—the one who trapped Lydia against the wall—has recovered from my attack and is thoroughly drunk at the bar with his companions.

None of them notice me. I wait in the shadows, just as I have for centuries, and track their lazy, careless movements. Clearly, they have had no luck ensnaring a different victim, for which I am grateful. I shouldn’t have left such monstrous cretins behind but getting Lydia away from them was my first priority.

Now that she is sleeping soundly, I can put an end to them once and for all.

I don’t make a habit out of terminating dangerous humans, but Lydia is mine and anyone who dares to harm her—or even attempt to do so—will suffer.

The drunken trio will not be missed, at least not by me or their future victims. Of course, they have friends and family, but I have no qualms about ridding this world of cretins such as them. They are the kind of men with no morals and no redeeming qualities, the type of losers who band together because they know that there is strength in numbers and they are utterly useless alone.

The men leave the bar just before the bartender announces last call. They loudly agree to head to a pub closer to the center of the city, and I follow at an undetectable distance.

It is no problem at all to mark where they are going, then to increase my pace so I can overtake them.

And when the three of them wander closer to the seaport district, a silent limbo between competing nightlife districts, it is all too easy to cut them off in the middle of the sidewalk.

The three of them stumble to a halt. Recognition dawns on them slowly, recent memories fighting to rise in their alcohol-drenched minds.

“Whoa,” says the leader stupidly. “Man, I remember you. You’re the psycho guy who hit me.

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