“No,” he said, glancing around. “Why?”
“Guess the talent for decorating runs in the family,” I said with a nervous laugh.
He shrugged. “It reminds me of home.”
“Oh,” I said, glancing around again. “So, were you like, a Viking or something?”
Viktor gave me a small smile. “Do I look like a Viking?”
Actually he was the exact opposite—trim and tall, with that jet black hair and almost delicate features. The Wolf boys looked more like Vikings than he did.
“But how old are you?” I pressed.
“I don’t really know,” he said with a shrug. “Years don’t really mean the same thing when you have an endless supply.”
“You know that’s the most frustrating answer you could give me, right?”
“It’s a frustrating question,” he replied, sinking onto the edge of his bed. His comforter was pale blue and white striped with tiny, navy sailboats. It seemed an odd choice for someone who drank blood. I figured that wouldn’t be a very good place for a newbie to practice biting. Plus, I felt weird about being on a bed with him.
I chose the chair at his desk instead of joining him. “So, how does this work?”
“Unlike human blood, our blood isn’t food,” he said, his tone becoming businesslike. “That’s why it doesn’t smell like food. It’s… Better.”
“Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Even your blood is superior.”
“Yes,” he said. “It will do more for you than human blood, but it won’t satisfy your hunger. It will be much harder to control yourself with a human, as well.”
“Wait, if it won’t satisfy my hunger, then how does it do more for me?”
“Human blood makes you strong,” he said. “Ours makes you stronger. You’re literally taking strength from the other vampire in direct proportion to how much blood you take. So, if you take a lot during our sessions, I’ll need to take some back at the end, so I’m not depleted and weak.”
I nodded. “Sounds fair.”
“You want to do it there?” Viktor asked, looking doubtfully at his chair.
“I think so,” I said, giving his bed the same look.
“There’s one more thing,” he said, pressing his palms down on his knees.
“Okay…”
“When you drink from your maker, your bond strengthens. If you drink a lot, and I don’t take it back, it’s like… Part of me is inside you. I could summon you back to me. Even from far away.”
A nervous laugh escaped me. “That’s… Weird.”
He nodded, his gaze moving to the window. “For a long time, makers did that so they could call their progeny to fight for them, rescue them, even obey them. It’s a form of mind control.”
“Did your maker do that to you?” I whispered, feeling more uncertain by the moment.
“Yes.”
I swallowed hard, already knowing the answer to my next question before I asked. “They didn’t give you a choice?”
“They didn’t tell us,” he said. “That’s why I’m telling you. If you let me take some back, or you don’t take much, you’ll be fine. But it is a risk.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. “I’ll just take a little.”
He nodded.
“What did your maker tell you?” I asked.
“We were new vampires, like you,” he said. “We didn’t know any better. But… We killed people, Timberlyn. To not be able to stop yourself until you’ve already done something so horrific… And then to do it again… It does something to you. They asked if we wanted to learn to control it, so we would stop murdering humans. Of course we jumped to agree.”
“And then they enslaved your minds?” I asked, anger tightening in my chest at the thought of someone doing that to sweet, sensitive Viktor and vivacious Svana. I could only imagine the kind of guilt and self-hatred that would brew inside a sensitive soul like Viktor’s after rampaging through a bunch of humans in the grip of bloodlust. And to have that used against him, turning him into someone’s slave…
“I’m so sorry,” I said, reaching out toward him.
Viktor shifted on the bed, his gaze dropping to his hands. “It was a long time ago, Timberlyn.”
“So… He… Or she… Could call you back to Iceland any time?”
He frowned. “Yes, until he died.”
Thank the stars he’d told me, or Mr. Ravenwood might have tried the same thing on me. He was conniving enough.
Neither of us spoke for a long moment. I broke the silence first. “Did you…”
The corner of his mouth tugged up into an ironic half smile. “No. A vampire can’t kill his maker. Instinct won’t let you.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.
He shook his head. “There’s nothing to talk about. We weren’t there. But you feel it, when your maker dies. Depending on how much of their blood is inside you, it can be pretty intense. It’s like… Having a tooth pulled without anesthesia. Only it happens in your blood.”
“Fuck,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said, letting out a small laugh and standing from the bed. “I didn’t mean for that to get so heavy. Let’s practice.” He strode over to the chair where I sat, scooped me up, and sat down, still holding me in his arms.
Okay, maybe I hadn’t thought our practice location through. But I knew the Q&A session was over, so I focused on the task at hand.
“Do I just, like, bite your neck?” I asked, suddenly flooded with nerves again.
“Yes,” he said. “You can put your teeth in any vein, but those in the neck and arms are usually close to the surface. You’ll cause less damage and have better success there. But there are veins all over the human body, from the feet to the face.”
I winced at the thought of biting someone’s face. “Neck is good, then,” I said lightly, forcing a laugh.
“Okay,” he
