“So you should leave,” Indra pressed. “This isn’t on you-“
“But that’s my choice,” I reminded him. “ I chose to help you in the woods. And what about next time? What about when someone from the coven tries to pay me back for my threats?” I was already shaking my head. “Am I supposed to just run away then, too? I would be running for the rest of my life. What will you guys do, kill the whole coven when that has nothing to do with you? I can’t rely on you guys to mop up after my bad decisions.” It sounded much too brave to be coming from me, but I found myself intent on sticking to my words.
The door opened from the yard and Cian strolled back in, removing his sunglasses and tucking them into his pocket.
“Your neighbor is nice,” he told me, locking the door behind him. “He asked me if we were prostitutes.”
“What did you tell him?” I asked, looking up.
Cian grinned wickedly but didn’t answer. “Let me heal that,” he deflected. “If you’re not going to take our five star vacation offer, then you’re going to get some unwelcome visits until we–“ He looked pointedly at Indra, then Akiva. “get this taken care of.”
“Did you eavesdrop at the window?” I asked. Akiva passed us with a spray bottle full of thick, sloshing green liquid that he squirted onto the floor like windex. “If you ruin the wood, Aveline is going to blow you into the river.”
“It’s organic and hardwood safe,” Akiva quipped. He repeated the process over my paw prints and opened the door to pour the rest of the liquid onto the porch.
“I didn’t need to be at the window to hear you,” Cian told me. “Neither would any other vampire.”
He sat back down on the overstuffed couch, this time stealing Indra’s seat as the hellhound went to help Akiva. Cian’s fingers trailed along Indra’s hip and the hellhound grinned down at Cian, making my stomach twinge in….envy? Definitely envy. I’d never had their kind of relationship with anyone. Except Aveline, in a platonic family way, but even she had her own life these days.
Cian’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Don’t be stupid,” the vampire said, mouth pulling back into his signature charming grin. I opened my mouth to protest. He was obviously going to tell me to take his offer and leave, but he didn’t give me the chance to speak. “You can’t fight with a hole in your chest.” Oh. He was talking about healing me.
Three different arguments containing varying degrees of insults, arrogance, and quips filtered through my brain, but I let them drop. “Okay,” I agreed, meeting his gaze challengingly. “All right. How do we do this?” I trailed off. Vampires healed themselves and others through blood, I knew. But I doubted I was supposed to just lunge in and go for the throat.
“Can I see?” he looked towards my shoulder.
I hesitated for a moment, before grabbing the black throw blanket. “Close your eyes,” I requested, and he did so without complaint.
I realized that all three men had seen me wearing less than I was now, but I still felt like I needed to reserve some modesty. I stripped out of my shirt and wrapped the throw around myself, tucking it under my arms and holding the slack in one hand. “Okay.”
Cian opened his eyes, reaching forward to peel back the hastily applied bandage from last night.
“Why does it matter?” I asked curiously as he looked at the wound. “Vampire blood is vampire blood, right?”
“Because the severity of the wound impacts how much blood you need,” Cian explained. “If this had nicked an organ or was still bleeding, I’d have you drink from my throat until it healed.”
An image of me perched over Cian, mouth sucking at his neck, flashed unbidden through my brain. Down girl, I chastised mentally, wishing that my body would stop doing that when I was trying to make a good impression on the three men.
“But it’s not bad enough for that.” As I watched he lifted his left hand to his mouth, fangs shining bright white where there’d been only human teeth before.
I couldn’t see it, but I could very easily hear the small pop of his fangs breaking through the delicate skin of his wrist. I watched his face, unable to look away as his eyes grew brighter, even more so than the night in the clearing. I briefly wondered if he was hungry. If he was, would he want to….
Down, George, I told my unhelpful body yet again as I felt a very familiar twinge between my thighs.
I shook my head hard to shake myself out of that line of thought again.
“You okay?” he asked, lips glittering with blood as he lowered his arm.
“Yeah. Absolutely.” I gently reached out to wrap my fingers around his hand. I paused. “Sorry for–for how I acted at the door,” I told him as my mind raced. Was I really about to drink a vampire’s blood? What if I gagged? What if I liked it? I knew what my own blood tasted like, especially after last night, and the coppery taste was not what I considered appetizing.
“It’s fine,” Cian said patiently. “I live with a hellhound; I get it.”
I snorted, having my doubts that Indra ever lost his temper. “This won’t do anything to me, right?”
He breathed a good natured-sigh. “Other than heal you?”
Tentatively I raised his wrist to my face, glad he didn’t take the initiative and do so on his own, and met his eyes once more as I awkwardly pressed my mouth to his bleeding wrist.
And immediately gagged.
Vampire blood did not taste any better than regular blood. It was thicker, and I found that in itself incredibly unappetizing. Still I forced myself to swallow, face screwed up in a grimace as Cian fought not to laugh.
“Not the experience you thought it’d be, I take it?” he teased, hand still limp in my grip.
