Page 31 of Pretty Poisoned

I laugh—actually laugh. "No!"

"Hand," he says, extending his own.

"I'm pretty sure this counts as talking," I tell him, then place my hand palm-up on his own. "And touching."

"I won't tell if you don't," he says before running the blade across my palm. It's sharp enough that the cut doesn't need to be deep; I barely feel it against my skin before the blood begins to seep through the wound in a paper-cut-thin line.

Then, Luca brings my palm to his mouth and sucks it clean.

He's drinking my blood.

I remember what Declan said last night about the blood—about how there's power in it, that it's forbidden, and that's what makes it so erotic. If I wasn't awake before, I'm certainly awake now.

Someone bumps into me from behind, and I remember I'm holding up a line of people behind me. I start to pull my hand away, but Luca grabs me by the wrist, squeezing forcefully.

Blood pools around the cut again. Before it runs down my arm, he takes my hand and smears it against the door.

"Still have to pay the price of admission," he says, releasing me.

I slowly bring my hand back to my body, and he smiles as I step inside.

I take in my surroundings—the marble floors, the high ceilings. The grand staircase and fireplace. The opulent main living area is already filled with people and noise—loud music blares from speakers hidden somewhere in the room. A couple passes me with what appears to be vials of blood hanging from chains on their necks. The man turns to me and smiles, revealing canines filed into fangs.

What in the fucking Twilight fandom was that?

"Hey," River says, nudging me. "I told you things were a little weird here. Come on."

She takes me to the kitchen with the rest of the family. Brady and Alana are filling test tubes with a thick, red substance. "What is that?" I ask, remembering the jello shots in L.A.

"It's what it looks like," Alana says, handing one to me.

"And…what else?"

"Nothing else this time. This is all blood. Bottom's up, fam," she says.

I watch Brady, Alana, Hazel, Rhett, and Layla all grab a tube from the tray, too. I wait until the others throw it back to do the same. I surprise myself when I swallow it down easily.

River reaches out and swipes her thumb across my lip. When she pulls it away, it comes back bloody. She sucks it into her own mouth. "Not so bad, right?" she asks.

"No. But…I still don't think I quite get it," I tell her, even though it feels like a lie when it leaves my lips. I think of Luca's tongue on my palm, of my conversation with Declan in the club last night and the way he ran the blunt side of his blade over my skin. I think of Hazel covered in blood on the table and when he licked his lips before he wiped the blood and cum away from his mouth.

I think of my own obsession with the darker parts of humanity and the last time I got a little too close to it.

No, I think I understand just fine. And now I'm doubting myself again, wondering if maybe it's time for me to go home. It's the most inconvenient time for me to have such an epiphany.

"Sure you don't," Brady scoffs.

"Give her another one," Rhett says, laughing.

Hazel hoists herself onto the counter and grabs a small square of watermelon from a fruit tray. "Open," she says to me.

I obey, and she sets the square on my tongue. I taste iron again before I bite down, filling my mouth with a diluted mix of human blood, vodka, and the fruit's sweet nectar. I watch as she does the same, wiping her mouth as the pink liquid drips onto her chin.

"Come here," Hazel says.

"What do you mean?"

She holds out her hand, and after I take it, she pulls me into her so that I'm standing between her legs, then turns me so I'm facing out into the main living area, and rests her hands on my shoulders.

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