Fuck.
I blinked. Then laughed. “You can’t be serious.”
No one jumped in with a ‘kidding’ and jazz hands.
Fuck.
They really were serious.
Nope.
“Is this some kind of blood cult or vampire wannabe group or something?” I asked, clinging to the hope that maybe they were just deluded.
“Sorry, but no,” Byron said bluntly. “Took me a while to process the idea and I’d been with them two fucking years before they told me.”
“But this isn’t possible…” And yet… something niggled in the back of my mind telling me that maybe it was.
Maybe,just maybeVlad had some kind of compulsion skill that had wiped my memory.MaybeI’d brushed passed the possibility that they moved faster than I could process when they’d been chasing Charlie.
Andmaybemy world had just got a whole lot bigger.
And scarier.
And holy fucking hell.
“Vampires are real.”
“Yep,” Byron said as he wandered towards me, blood dripping onto Damyr’s plush rug. I hoped the guy had a good house cleaner. “I’m still human though. Acheron is a glorified wizard and—”
“Shut up,” Aleksey growled at Byron.
Jeez, those two squabbled worse than a pair of teenagers.
I looked at Damyr as he lay on the sofa. He was deathly pale and looked more like a fresh corpse than a vampire. Was this really possible? Was the man in front of me a blood sucking creature of the night?
Fuck. Did he sparkle? That I definitely couldnotget on board with. I also couldn’t get past the way my heart felt like lead in my chest. Like it had sunk to the bottom of the ocean without Damyr there to help me navigate whatever this was between us.
I looked up at Vlad and swallowed past the nervous lump in my throat. “What do I need to do?”
He smiled warmly. “Well, first you need to—”
“Stop pussyfooting around the fucking details,” Byron groaned. He lunged for me, knife in his hand. I instinctively stepped back, but he grabbed my wrist and sliced through the black material, cutting my skin in the process. Blood instantly began to pool from the cut, bright against my pale skin. It was a few moments before I even felt the sting which meant Byron’s knife must be wicked sharp. Couldn’t say I was surprised.
“Byron!” Vlad shouted.
I was thrust toward Damyr and Byron manipulated me until my arm was dropping blood onto Damyr’s lips. It was almost like I was in a daze, watching myself from somewhere else.
Time stood still as I waited, my heart in my throat, my body trembling with anticipation. There was still a part of me that thought this was all madness. That it couldn’t possibly be real and the fact that I was feeding someone my blood was evidence of my own psychotic break.
But then Damyr twitched, and my heart soared.
“Lower your wrist to his mouth,” Vlad said, pushing Byron away and helping me get more comfortable. He got me a chair to sit on, so I wasn’t knelt on the floor, and he came to sit next to me. I had to admit, having the giant next to me was oddly comforting. There was a strength about Vlad that was quiet and unassuming. Like he was in your corner and ready to help if you needed it. And boy, did I need some support right now.
“Will it hurt?” I asked.
“Possibly,” Vlad answered. “I don’t know how far gone Damyr is. Normally, when we feed it’s a pleasurable experience for both, but he’s badly injured so I can’t say how that will affect him.”
“Oh.” My stomach churned. Was I doing the right thing?