Page 11 of Taste of Death

The prepared guest room was open, smelling like fresh linens and cut flowers. Lourna had even set an arrangement of red roses, poppies, and dahlias on the nightstand.

Fighting to ignore the soft mouthing at my neck, I hurried across the threshold and toward the bed, where I placed Amy down as gingerly as I could.

Breaking the contact between her lips and my skin was far more difficult than it ever should have been.

Lourna had the foresight to pull back the blanket and duvet, so Amy lay on the crisp, freshly washed sheet. After a few moments’ hesitation, I picked at the battered laces on her shoes, sneakers of some kind, and removed them from her feet. Her socks were worn thin and the left one had a hole just beneath her big toe. I made a mental note to ask Lourna if she had any extra pairs she wouldn’t mind donating.

I placed the shoes on the floor next to the bed, then pulled the blanket and duvet up to Amy’s shoulders. Humans were more sensitive to cold temperatures and vampires tended to keep their homes cool. I didn’t know if brusang had that same sensitivity, but figured she’d push the covers down if she got too hot.

I left the room before I started to think and wonder too much. It would do no good to stare at the sleeping woman’s lips and reimagine them on my neck.

A few hours later,I sensed Amy’s movements from her room. My study was only two doors down the hall, but I’d been too distracted and bleary-eyed to focus on the data in front of me. I had no problem sending my focus out of the room though, hyper-alert to any stirring or weight on floorboards in the guest room.

The moment those sounds came, it was like a shot of adrenaline. I stood from the desk, alert and poised.She needs more blood,my instincts screamed at me.

As if I could forget the soft brush of her lips on my jugular. But I knew that once she was awake, Amy would not be receptive to feeding from my neck. With that in mind, I went to the liquor cabinet in search of a clean glass. With a quick slice of a letter opener against my forearm, I prepared her next blood meal.

Once the glass was filled and my wound closed, I made my way down the hall and knocked at the closed guest room door. My pulse spiked, almost to a frenzied level as I waited for a response. I didn’t have female guests often but this level of nerves was unusual, even for me.

“Uh, come in?” Amy called hesitantly from the other side.

I turned the knob and stepped inside to find her sitting up against the headboard, her knees bent toward her chest and the comforter pulled to her chin. She was wide-eyed, apprehensive, but also looked much more alert and healthy.

“Hi.” I hesitated near the foot of the bed. “Did you sleep well? Are you cold?”

“No. I, um… ” She relaxed, stretching her legs out in front of her. “I mean, I did sleep well. I’m not cold. I just didn’t know where I was.”

“One of my guest rooms. Seems you needed the rest.”

Amy’s eyes darted all over, from the ceiling to the rugs to the antique furniture. “Thisis a guest room?”

“One of the more spacious ones, but yes.” I approached the side of the bed slowly and set the glass down on the nightstand. “Some more blood, if you would like it.”

Her dark blue eyes immediately went to the healing cut on the inside of my forearm. “Doesn’t it hurt when you do that?”

“Not really. I don’t know, maybe a little.” I closed my fist to make my forearm flex. The wound was slightly sore, but hardly anything noticeable. “Vampires are so used to biting each other in various places, I don’t think we have many pain receptors when it comes to surface cuts and bleeding.”

“What time is it?” Amy scooted to the edge of the bed and carefully picked up the glass of blood.

“About six in the evening. In another hour or so, I’ll be able to escort you home.”

Amy’s shoulders drooped, her spine curling into a slouch. It hit me then that she might not have a home, that as a human she might have been killed, revived as a brusang and then abandoned. That certainly explained her gaunt appearance from before.

It didn’t happen often. Most humans were respected as equals these days, but some vampires held onto outdated beliefs that they were nothing but livestock for us to feed on.

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” I tried to ask the question as delicately as possible.

“Yes, I do.” Amy straightened, then took a long deep drink of my blood.

A satisfied warmth filled my chest and abdomen as I watched her drink. She may not have been at my neck or wrist, but my instincts were pleased that she found nourishment from my blood.

“I have somewhere to go, it’s just not the best living situation right now,” she went on.

I felt a flare of protectiveness that I didn’t know was in me. “Are you safe there?”

“Yes, it’s nothing like that. Just a difficult situation with my best friend.” Amy finished the glass, leaning back to take every last drop.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is that why you were out by yourself last night?” There was so much more I wanted to know, like why she had been nearly starving. Surely this friend's situation couldn’t be good if she wasn’t even feeding properly.

---