Fuck.
“We’ll have to get you weaned onto bagged blood now that you’re over the worst of the madness,” he was saying. “And from there, to humans. I see no reason why you can’t pull animus the same way you were doing before, once you’re recovered a bit more—”
I interrupted him. “So... wait. I’ve been handcuffed to a bed, fucking you and drinking your blood for... how long, now?”
“About twenty-eight hours.”
My eyes roved over first his body, then mine. “Okay. Wow. I guess that explains the whole ‘horror movie chic’ thing we’ve got going on, at least.”
Rans let out a tiny puff of air. It might conceivably have been amusement. “Let’s just say that it’s too bad I don’t smoke. Because I could really use a fucking cigarette at this point.”
“It sounds like you’ve earned one,” I agreed. “I feel like I should apologize for being such a high-maintenance baby vamp, but... when have I ever taken the easy route for anything, right?”
Half a smile hooked one corner of his lips, but it was strained. “I can’t argue.”
“Could I get cleaned up now, do you think?” I asked, resisting the urge to scratch at the flaking blood on my skin.
He nodded. “Of course, love. Shower or ocean? It’s a private cove, and Guthrie just left a few minutes ago to raid the hospital in St. John’s for bagged blood, so we’re alone. He won’t be back for a couple of hours yet.”
I sat still for a moment, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the seacoast with senses more acute than I’d ever imagined was possible. “Both,” I decided.
Under the cloak of darkness, I let Rans take me by the hand and lead me outside, padding naked with him across the short stretch of beach to where the waves caressed the sand in a measured dance. There were a million important questions clamoring for my attention, but I set everything aside for just a little while longer.
Frowning, I pressed my hand to my heart again, still caught out by the incredible strangeness of its silence inside me. I ran my tongue over my teeth—human flat, though I was sure that was only because I’d just fed. Rans led me into the surf, turning me to face him once the water washed up around our hips.
“You’re taking this better than I expected,” he told me, his brows drawing together beneath the moonlight.
I rolled my lower lip between my teeth, thinking that I’d have to be more careful about that habit in the future if I didn’t want to constantly be sporting puncture wounds.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve come close to asking you for it,” I said. “Especially after Guthrie. But you seemed so torn up over the idea of turning him... so I didn’t.”
“I’ve made you both into pawns,” he said, barely audible over the wash of waves. “You’ll never be free of this war now.”
But I shook my head. “We were already pawns—both of us. That had nothing to do with you. And I’m not Guthrie. The way I see it, my chances of not killing you by dying of old age just went up significantly.”
“Right,” he said dryly. “Because your old age was definitely top of the list when it came to things likely to take us out of the game.”
I splashed him. “Shut up. Let me have my illusions.”
He picked me up by the waist and tossed me into the waves, effectively ending the discussion. I took the hint, and started scrubbing the blood off my skin.
EPILOGUE
AFTER A SWIM in the cove followed by a long, hot shower, I stood staring at myself in the mirror with Rans behind my shoulder. Had I looked any different two months ago, before all this started? I suppose I must have done. I’d always been slender, but the sleek, well-defined muscles of hard exercise were new. So were some of the fine lines at the corners of my eyes and between my eyebrows... but apparently I wouldn’t ever be getting any more of those, now that I was a vampire.
Trapped in metaphorical amber at the age of twenty-six. Could be worse, I supposed.
“What color are my eyes now?” I asked suddenly, meeting Rans’ glacier-blue gaze in the mirror.
He wrapped an arm around me from behind and raised his wrist to the height of my chin. “See for yourself. It’s probably time you started practicing with drinking a bit of blood and then stopping before you’re sated.”
At the mention of blood, a copper glow like molten metal kindled in the depths of my brown irises, and I sucked in a surprised breath. “Whoa.” Sharp points rasped against the inside of my cheeks as I spoke, and I bared my teeth, exposing fangs.
Rans leaned forward. “Congratulations. You’ve just gone from being the first Fae-demon-human hybrid to being the first Fae-demon-vampire hybrid. And you’re stunning.” This last part was murmured against the shell of my ear. A different kind of hunger flared in response.
I swallowed, trying to keep a lid on all the heady sensations competing for my attention. “You, uh, might want to stop talking like that, if having me keep control of my appetites is the goal,” I warned.
He chuckled, the sound not helping with my current predicament at all—but at least he also straightened away from my ear and offered his wrist again. I recalled everything I could remember about the instructions he’d given Guthrie regarding feeding safely from a human. With only a minimal amount of struggling to keep my desires in check, I was able to take a few sips from his wrist and stop. Afterward, I pretended to close the wound with a couple drops of my own blood, though of course it had already healed on its own.
“Well done,” he approved. “Now, I’ll wager that commotion outside is Guthrie returning from
