“It has been far too long since we did this, Percy.” Persephone brought a glass of fresh blood to her lips, leaving a crimson stain along the lower seam that she slowly traced over with her tongue.  

“Sure has.” Percy took a leisure sip of his own blood, awkwardly shifting his gaze to the blood pub’s window as vamps crossed the sidewalk.  “You said you have more information about that witch, Lana Lionheart, yeah?  Anything about her could be helpful to our case.”

Persephone pouted with a look of disappointment in her bloodlust eyes, shaking her head at him in a mocking manner.  “You never were good with foreplay, were you?  Always in a rush to get things over with.”

Percy literally choked on his blood.  “What?” he wheezed.

The tips of his pointed ears burned as she giggled at the way he flushed.  It had been a one time thing between them.  Not something Percy dwelled upon often,  as he’d only been a vampire for a measly year when they had hooked up.

It happened during a period when Persphone and her now ex-husband were going through an open relationship phase. Back when Percy was still struggling with his own sexuality. Back when he thought vampirism could miraculously make him fancy women after it took everything else from him.  

“Can’t a friend tease?” Persphone took another sip of her blood, then folded her hands out in front of her on the table.  “I knew Lana pretty well for a short spell.  Not in the way your perverted brain’s thinking either.” She narrowed her eyes at him.  “Lana wanted to get a vampire’s mating mark removed.  You know how the vamps are in this country.  Nobody’s going to tamper with another vampire, another man's, witch.  Me?  I couldn’t care less about what vampire put his claim on her.  If she wanted to be freed, then I’d free her.”

“There’s laws precisely against doing that without consent from the vampire himself, right?” Percy asked. 

“My ex-husband and sire is the greatest vampire lawyer in Sanguine City.  Do you honestly think some lowlife bloodsucker would challenge me?”

“Fair enough,” Percy murmured.  “How did she get in contact with you?”

“Witches protect each other when they can.” Persephone sipped her blood with a nonchalant shrug.  “Who knows who sent her to my doorstep?  Sadly, not even that severed bond couldn’t protect her in the end.”

There was more to it that she wasn’t telling him.  Percy knew well and good enough that her former witch roots still ran deep and trying to untangle them would likely not lead him anywhere near his killer.  Even as a half fae vampire now, nobody dared to challenge her when she still held the power of the Bloodworth name. Even after their divorce, she kept his name as a way of protecting herself. 

“You didn’t want to mention knowing Lana back at the crime scene,” Percy observed.  “That’s why you wanted us to share drinks.  Do you know something about the curse put on her grave?  Was it done by the vampire who marked her?”

“Lana refused to tell me who the vampire was, and honestly, it wasn’t in my favor to know his identity.  Seeing what happened to her in the end, I assume it was someone very powerful.” Persephone frowned into her glass with a pained look in her darkened crimson eyes.  “She trusted me enough to remove the mark, but that was all.  I never heard from her after that.  If I had to guess, the vampire who did it to her probably has connections to my ex-husband.  Perhaps she had faith in me because I actually divorced a vampire and lived to tell the tale.”

Vampire divorce rates weren’t very high for a good reason.  

Once they had someone they truly desired, they didn’t like to let go or share.  Their only escape tended to end in death.  In his line of work over the years, Percy had seen more cases than he cared to admit like that. Whether the human was woman or man, the vampire with claim over them never wanted to let them go.

“I appreciate you confiding in me.  This is helpful.  I’m not sure how it connects to my case right now, but I’ll figure it out.” Percy tilted his head back to drain his glass of blood, a feathery light buzz zapping through his veins at the thought of indulging in another glass.

“Remember, Percy.  We’re not the same as them.  We might look like them and drink blood like them to survive, but we’re still at the bottom of the chain compared to those born with venom in their veins.”

Percy dragged his tongue over his fangs, savoring the remnants of blood still clinging to their sharp points.  “Not like I ever asked to be this way.”

“You need to watch your back,” Persephone warned him. “Don’t trust your bat cop buddies to protect you because they might just sacrifice you to catch their killer instead.”

Percy snorted.  “Yeah, right.  As if they’d ever do that.”

Persephone rose from her booth, towering over him with a look of concern in her penetrating crimson eyes as she swung her sparkly black purse over her shoulder.  “I’m serious.  Those bat cops won’t put your sorry fangs before their own.  You’re literally a vampire because of them.  Don’t forget that.”

Memory Lane was not a place Percy wanted to stop at tonight.  Rather than leave with Persephone, he gestured over their waitress for more blood.  Enough to satiate the burning hunger within, and enough to keep his mind from falling deep into the dark depths of that tragic night he changed. 

The night he lost his humanity.

“Rough night, hon?” The witch’s sultry voice drew Percy’s attention to her cherry red lips and strawberry blond hair pinned ever so meticulously in a bun. Her waitress uniform fit snug around her bust, giving an ample view of the tips of her breasts. Ones he’d noticed Persephone ogling every time she came over to their table. 

“You can say that,” Percy mumbled. 

“Poor thing.” She reached out and lightly strummed her fingers through his hair, brushing the tip of his sensitive ear. “How about this next drink be on me, okay?” 

It wasn’t the first time a beautiful woman wanted to comfort him. She quite literally bared her slender neck like an invitation to take a bite, and as tempting as it might’ve been, Percy knew what it would further lead to. And that, he had no interest in. 

“I appreciate that, but I should get going.” Percy shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose when the scent of her own fresh blood overwhelmed his senses. 

“Oh, come on. When has a vampire ever turned down free blood?” She winked at him, allowing droplets of her blood to drip from her fingertip and into the glass she placed in front of him. “Want to see a cool trick?”

The blood stirred up in the glass like a mini tidal wave, and for some reason, just watching it had him transfixed. He couldn’t look away. Even if he’d actually wanted to. 

“Strange,” Percy murmured, not sure if he meant the trick she showed him or if he was voicing how he felt. 

“I hope this makes your night a bit better, Percy.” She whispered his name like it was a filthy secret. 

As if some magical force propelled him, he reached out for the glass of blood and tilted his head back, downing it all in one gulp. Like he’d been craving it, like he hadn’t a single sip of blood all night long.