Blood and Rain
I am in serious trouble, Rebecca thought, her academic professional veneer suddenly feeling like tissue paper.
She came to a halt three feet from the door, close enough to catch the scent bleeding out from the grand entrance hall. It wasn’t the clinical, cold aroma she expected of a vampire elder. Instead, she was hit by a rich, haunting wave of mint, myrrh, and jasmine, lingering like a ghostly presence in the air. Underneath the sweet, ancestral floral notes lay his own distinct scent—cedar, cold stone, and something dark and nameless that pulled low in her belly, immediate and shameless.
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