Page 4 of Blood Submission

“What do you think?” he asked them in his broken voice.

The cat blinked its large eyes at him, not offering an opinion either way. But the dog lifted one front paw and yippedonce.

Dante nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I should keep her around.” At least until I’m healed enough to take the time to find another as appetizing. Gathering her up in his arms, he rose and carried her out of the kitchen. The animals followedhim.

He stood in the center of the main room, unsure of where to go to wait out the day. Though there was only the one window and it had blinds he could pull down, it was large, and made him feel too exposed. He could cover it with a blanket or something for extra protection, he supposed, but it wasn’t enough. Turning on his heel, he opened the door to the first bedroom. It definitely belonged to the female in his arms. Her scent was everywhere. One eyebrow lifted in surprise. Instead of the ruffles and glitter most human females seemed to favor, he found a clean room decorated simply and tastefully in warm blues and browns. Looking down at her, he tried to determine her age. Maybe she had matured past that ridiculous crap. These days, it was much harder to gauge a human’s age. In any case, pleasant as it was, there was also another window.

Backing out of the room, careful not to knock her head on the doorframe, he sidestepped over to the bathroom. The room was small but clean. All beige and white, with a deep bathtub, a pedestal sink with a mirror, and just enough floor space for him to sit on the large tiles with his legs stretched out in front of him. And more importantly, not a fucking window to beseen.

It woulddo.

Lowering his meal into the bathtub, he left her there and went back into the kitchen and found the cat’s plastic dishes. He filled one with water and one with some dry cat food that he found in the pantry, and set them both on the floor. That should keep the two of them happy while he got some rest. And cat food had to be a step up from rotting garbage for his new canine friend. Then he retrieved the pillows and the pale blue comforter from the bed and took them into the bathroom withhim.

“Behave,” he told the two animals. Then he shut the door. The corpse could rot where it was for theday.

Dante arranged the pillows against the wall next to the sink and spread out the comforter. Lifting the woman from the tub, he sat down and settled her across his lap. Her hair fell away from her face as her head fell back over hisarm.

Startled by the surge of lust that shot through him, Dante studied her closer. The female was quite beautiful, with the high cheekbones, sculpted full bottom lip, and dark slash of brows common to the women from the old country. Dante frowned, touching her cheek. The skin was cold and clammy to the touch, and had a chalky gray pallor to the natural olive tones. Raising his wrist to his mouth, he bit through the skin until he tasted blood, then laid the open wound over her mouth. He wiggled his arm a little until he got her mouth open and the blood could dripin.

When she didn’t respond right away, he scowled, but then she started swallowing instinctively. He re-opened the wound and let her drink a little more, but not more than he could afford to lose. He examined her again. Her color was better, and she seemed to be breathing a bit easier. She would live to feed him again.

Satisfied, he rearranged her on his lap so she was sitting with her back against his chest and her head resting on his shoulder. If she awoke before he did, he would know. He was taking no chances of her gettingaway.

Dante wrapped his arms around her, slightly amused at how small she was. Her bare feet didn’t even reach his ankles. His eyes travelled up her full legs. They reminded him of what he thought of as old Hollywood legs, like the starlets of the nineteen forties and fifties. For as little as she was, she had plenty of curves. He tugged her nightshirt down and pulled one side of the comforter up and over the two of them, then he closed his eyes. It wasn’t a bed or even his old mattress back home under the city of Seattle, but it was definitely a step up from being buried alive insand.

At that thought, Dante opened his eyes again and looked at the tub in front of him. He briefly considered making use of it, but found he couldn’t gather the energy. The sun wouldn’t be up for an hour or so yet, but he was fatigued from the exertions of the night. He needed torest.

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