Page 25 of Ophelia's Vampire

“Do you?”

I don’t answer him this time. I can’t. Not with the way his crimson eyes darken to garnet and something almost like anger crosses his features. But it’s not, not quite, and I can’t read whatever it is he’s thinking.

“I don’t mind biting you, Ophelia. To help keep up our ruse, of course.”

A rush of electricity through my blood. Like nerves and danger and something… else. Something I don’t want to examine too closely, not even when Casimir’s soft smile returns, like he can read all that strange, shaky energy clear as day on my face.

“It’s only that… I’ve never been bitten before.”

God, why did I have to admit that?

And why did I have tosayit like that? Like it matters.

Even during my brief fling with Marcus, we’d never taken it that far. He’d wanted to, and I’d almost caved, but looking back on it now, I’m glad I never did. The idea that I might have given him any more of myself than I did with my stupid, trusting, vulnerable words makes my stomach turn.

I know I shouldn’t be so damn precious about it. It’s just blood. Cells and plasma, simple biology, nothing to get myself too worked up about.

If it helps our case, I can stomach it. A quick bite, a couple of punctures to make it less likely for anyone to question me showing up here with Casimir.

Easy. Simple. Not a big deal.

Casimir’s expression is unreadable again. Blank, carefully blank, like he’s trying to hide whatever it is he’s thinking.

“But it doesn’t matter,” I hastily assure him. “I get the… mechanics of it. And it’s only for show, right? Just think of me as your own personal blood ba—”

“Enough.” Casimir’s voice is hard, his scowl sharp and disapproving. “I abhor that term. It’s offensive to the person who offers their blood, as well as to the vampire who receives it.”

He steps closer, and as he raises his hand to tangle in the hair at the back of my neck, I find I can’t move. I’m pinned in place by the sheer force of his focused gaze, the low rasp of his voice, and the aching tenderness in his words when he continues.

“To feed is a gift.” He leans in until I feel his soft exhale against my skin. “Always a gift, and never one to be denigrated or made into something tawdry and meaningless.” The grip he has on my hair tightens and I involuntarily arch my neck, exposing more of my throat to him. “We don’t have to do this, Ophelia. Not if it’s something you don’t want.”

“I want…” The words come out on a breathless gasp, and as soon as they do, I realize I don’t have any idea how to finish that thought.

I want to make Cleo know giving me this job wasn’t a mistake.

I want to finally get somewhere on this case, and not immediately blow our cover.

I want… I want…

I glance at Casimir’s fangs.

“Will it hurt?”

He leans back enough to meet my eye and releases his hold on me. Instead of amusement or annoyance over the inane question, he’s got more of that soft, dangerous tenderness written all over his face.

“At first, it will.” A brush of fingers across my cheek, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “But only for a moment.”

“And after that?”

“After that,” he murmurs, letting that same hand cup my jaw and tilt my chin up. He’s close enough that if he were anyone else, I might think he was about to kiss me. “After that you will feel pleasure. How much, and what kind, depends on the vampire and the human they’re biting. Whatever alchemy of blood and magick they create determines the experience.”

His words hang in the air between us. A warning. Or a temptation. I can’t decide which.

But waiting any longer to figure it out isn’t going to help either of us.

“Alright. Let’s do it.”

Casimir gives me one more long, searching look. From the hollow of my throat to the curve of my jaw to my eyes, holding my gaze like he’s looking for any last reason we shouldn’t do this.

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