Crimson Love: a Vampire Novel

Hunger and Desire

# Chapter 2: Hunger and Desire

Antonio stood in his penthouse suite, watching the city lights flicker below as the last remnants of sunset faded from the sky. Despite feeding on three donors the previous night, his hunger remained uncomfortably present. Not for blood – no, he was well-sated in that regard – but for her.

Tarah Wells. Even thinking her name made his centuries-old heart constrict. Her scent still lingered in his memory: jasmine and moonlight, with an undercurrent of something uniquely her own. He adjusted his crimson silk tie, a rare splash of color against his usual black attire. The gallery opening would begin in an hour.

"You're being reckless, brother," came a voice from the shadows. Lucia, his sister in blood if not birth, emerged from the darkness. Her pale features were drawn with concern.

"I fed well last night," he replied, not turning to face her. "Three donors. I'm in perfect control."

"We both know this isn't about feeding." Lucia moved to stand beside him. "I followed you last night. I saw her. She's not just blood to you, is she?"

Antonio's jaw tightened. "Leave it alone, Lucia."

"You know our laws. Humans are for feeding, not—"

"I said leave it." His voice carried centuries of authority, making Lucia step back instinctively.

She sighed. "Just be careful, Antonio. The Council is already watching you after the Prague incident."

After Lucia departed, Antonio checked his watch. Time to go. He gathered his coat and car keys, though he could have reached the gallery faster on foot. But humans expected certain things, and he had maintained his cover for far too long to risk it now.

---

Tarah's hands trembled slightly as she fastened her earrings. The gallery was already filling with patrons, their excited murmurs echoing off the marble floors. She had chosen her dress carefully – a deep blue silk that made her pale skin glow and her dark hair shine. The silver pendant from the night before completed the ensemble.

"Stunning choice."

She spun around to find Antonio standing in the doorway of her office, looking devastating in his black suit and crimson tie. Her heart skipped a beat – a reaction he couldn't help but notice.

"You shouldn't be back here," she said, but smiled despite her words.

"I've never been very good at following rules." He stepped into the office, closing the door behind him. The sounds of the gallery opening became muffled, creating an intimate bubble around them.

"Clearly." Tarah turned back to the mirror, using it as an excuse to break eye contact. "The exhibition's about to begin. I should be out there."

Antonio moved closer, his reflection appearing behind her in the mirror. "They can wait five minutes."

She could feel the cool emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the warmth building in her own. "What's so important it can't wait?"

He reached around her, his chest nearly touching her back, and placed a small box on the desk before her. "A token of appreciation for last night's private tour."

Tarah's fingers trembled as she opened the box. Inside lay a delicate gold bracelet, antique by its design, with small garnets catching the light. "Antonio, I can't—"

"You can," he interrupted softly. "It's been in my family for generations. It would honor me to see it worn by someone who truly appreciates beauty."

His cool fingers brushed her wrist as he fastened the bracelet, sending shivers down her spine. The contrast between his touch and her warm skin was striking, but not unpleasant.

"It's got quite a history," he continued, his voice low and intimate. "Like the painting, it comes from Venice. Late 18th century."

"You seem to have a connection to that era," Tarah observed, turning to face him. The movement brought them chest to chest, but neither stepped back.

"Let's just say I have an old soul." His eyes dropped to her throat, where her pulse betrayed her racing heart. The scent of jasmine surrounded him again, making his control waver for just a moment.

Tarah noticed his intense focus and reached up to touch her pendant self-consciously. Her movement brought her hand against his chest, and she frowned slightly. "Your heart... I can't feel it beating."

Antonio caught her hand in his, bringing it to his lips instead. "Perhaps you simply make my heart stop." The deflection came easily, centuries of practice at hiding his true nature.

A knock at the door broke the moment. "Ms. Wells? The director is asking for you."

"I'll be right there," she called out, her voice impressively steady despite her racing pulse. She looked back at Antonio, who hadn't released her hand. "We should..."

"Go," he finished for her, but made no move to step back. "Though I find myself hoping you might join me for dinner after the exhibition."

"That would be highly inappropriate," she said, though her smile betrayed her. "I'm staff, you're a client."

"Ah, but after tonight's opening, I'll no longer be a client." His thumb traced circles on her palm, the cool touch making her shiver. "Just a man, asking a beautiful woman to dinner."

Another knock. "Ms. Wells?"

"You should answer that," Antonio murmured, finally stepping back. "Before they break down the door."

Tarah moved toward the door, then paused with her hand on the handle. "Eight private tours."

"Pardon?"

"That's how many private gallery tours I've given in three months here. All to wealthy patrons, all of them influential in the art world." She turned to face him. "Not one of them gave me ancient Venetian jewelry or made my heart race by simply standing near me."

Antonio's eyes darkened. "Perhaps none of them hungered for you the way I do."

The double meaning in his words was lost on her, but the intensity in his gaze made her breath catch. "The exhibition ends at eleven," she said softly.

"I'll wait," he promised.

As she slipped out the door to join the gathering crowd, Antonio allowed himself a moment to recover. His control was iron-clad after three centuries, but something about Tarah Wells threatened to shatter it completely. The hunger he felt wasn't just for her blood – though that call was stronger than any he'd experienced before. No, he hungered for her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about art.

He was playing with fire, and he knew it. The Council's laws were clear about relationships with humans. But as he watched her move through the crowd, greeting patrons with graceful ease, he knew it was too late to step back. He would burn gladly, just to bask in her warmth a little longer.

"Oh, brother," Lucia's voice whispered in his mind from wherever she watched. "What have you gotten yourself into?"

Antonio straightened his tie and moved to join the crowd, his eyes never leaving Tarah as she worked the room. Let Lucia worry. Let the Council watch. Some things were worth the risk.

The garnets in Tarah's new bracelet caught the light as she gestured, speaking animatedly about the Venetian painting. If she noticed how the piece's mysterious figure matched Antonio's profile exactly, she gave no sign. But soon enough, she would begin to piece together the clues. And then Antonio would face a choice: push her away to protect them both, or trust her with a truth that could damn them all.

For now, though, he simply watched her shine, and planned how to make it through dinner without revealing just how inhuman his appetite truly was.