Page 31 of Auctioned for Her Blood
“Your blood—”
“What?” I lean back into the sofa. The way he saysbloodmakes me feel exposed again, unsafe, and the mood shifts, my attraction morphing into fear.
“I am a scientist,” Zuben says. “And one of my areas of research is rare blood types.”
I gasp. “My mother—” I clamp my lips together and my heart rate accelerates. All the air vacates my lungs as memories flood in of events I’d forgotten or blocked.
My mother claimed there was something rare about my blood… In fact, after I turned twelve, she drew vials of it weekly. But her claims were a lie.
After I moved to Philadelphia, I discovered my mother’s deceit.
“My blood is totally normal,” I tell him what the Red Cross told me when I went to donate. “It’s O positive. Plus…” I narrow my eyes “…you said you were infinancenot science.”
Zuben draws a long breath as I call out his lies. “I have many interests,” he says calmly, like we haven’t just been discussing my blood. “At this moment, finance is my official area of work for DEFTA, but for years I have been searching for…
“The exact details do not matter.” He shakes his head. “I have detected something very rare in your blood, Ember. Something that could hold the key to solving a mystery which I have been studying for cent—for most of my life.”
“Detected? You mean when youtastedit?” My stomach rises in my throat, remembering how he licked my cut palm.
He nods.
Freaked out, I try to sink into the sofa to escape his close scrutiny and my recollection of my reaction that day. I should have been repulsed when he kissed my cut palm, but instead I was…I was turned on.
What is wrong with me?
I’m ashamed by my reaction that day, not to mention my intense attraction to him not minutes ago.
“I sense your discomfort and fear,” he says carefully, “but I assure you that I mean you no harm. My interest in you is not of a sexual nature. It is entirely related to your blood.”
His blunt words are not only gross, they wipe away the last of my temporary hormonal insanity that made me feel attracted to him. It’s time to get Zuben out of my apartment. “I think you should leave.”
“I suspect you’re upset,” he says, and he leans forward. “Did you alreadyknowthat your blood was unique? You mentioned your mother before. Didsheknow? Do you already know what you are?”
“What Iam?” I stand on shaking legs. “What the hell do you mean?”
“I most certainly did not mean to offend you.” He stands, shaking his head, clearly regretting his choice of words. “I am referring to my strong suspicions about your rare blood type.”
“Like I already said, there isnothingrare about my blood.”
Although he’s made me question my certainty—my sanity. Is there something about my blood the Red Cross didn’t detect? And if so, did my motherknow?
“Ember.” Zuben clears his throat. “How much do you know about vampires?”
“Vampires?” Blinking, I drop back down to the sofa. This night just keeps getting weirder. “Are you accusing me of being avampire?”
“Of course not.” He stands there across from me, calmly waiting for me to say more. His expression’s intense, his eyes trained on mine as if he’s urging me to trust him. And in spite of all this creepy talk, there is something about Zuben I do trust.Why?
“I don’t know much about vampires,” I answer his question. “I know they’re monsters, vicious killers. But to be honest, I’m not sure I even believe they exist.” Then again, I never go out after dark, and vampires are never out in the light.
“I can assure you,” he says. “Vampires are real. Very real.”
My mouth dry, I lick my lips, wishing I’d said yes to more wine but unable to muster the will to get more. “What do vampires have to do with me?”
“Assuming my hypothesis is correct,” Zuben says, still so calm through this weird conversation. “Your blood, it is very…extremelyattractive to vampires.”
“What, like fairy blood?” I smirk, remembering a plot line from an old TV series I watched.
He leans forward, his expression serious. “No, not fairy blood, Ember. Something else. Something far more ancient and powerful.”
