Page 18 of Trapped for Her Blood
She smiles softly, as if she thinks she’s finally found an opening that will lead to our having sex. She does not know me.
“They line the humans up there, along the bars.” She gestures toward the iron gates I was thrown through. “There’s a lot of competition for the throats. Best bet is to grab a wrist or foot, or if you’re lucky, a thigh.”
I look at her, horrified, waiting for her to tell me that she’s joking again.
“It’s a fucking free for all,” she adds. “I didn’t get any blood last time.” She runs her tongue over her teeth. “That’s why I’m here. Early bird gets the vein.” She grins at what I assume she believes is a joke.
“Who are the humans who volunteer their blood?” I ask, eyeing the gate, my fangs tingling with the promise of food, even as I’m horrified by the scene she describes.
“Volunteer?” She laughs. “You, professor, are hilarious.”
“Humor was not my intention.”
She chuckles again, and I frown. I know better than this. I can usually avoid ridicule and teasing, but I am tired and hungry and afraid for Ember.
Even if Ember weren’t the best lead I have had to prove my theories and confirm that the legends of Gullveig are true, I would protect her with my life.
Gracen shifts and leans back against the gates, staking a position, so I do the same, but I face through the bars. That way I will be first to see the humans approach, the first to ask for a vein.
“If not volunteers, who are the humans?” I ask.
“Fuck if I know.” Gracen bends her leg, resting one of her boots against the bars behind her. “Best guess, they round up whores and street urchins.” She shrugs. “Some are regulars, more eager than the others.”
“Eager?”
She scoffs and nods. “Yeah. I swear some of them get off on it.”
I consider her words. Feedings are pleasurable for humans—and if done properly, not harmful in any way—and certainly the humans DEFTA uses as blood donors are happy with their employment. But I realize that I am not certain that eventhosehumans fully understand how they are used by their vampiric work colleagues. Blood supply was not my department.
And the thought of the humans who come down here being bitten multiple times through iron gates…
Faced with taking the vein of a human who might be unwilling and brought down to these dungeons under duress, I find myself reconsidering the ethics of the DEFTA blood supply center.
Though I used it rarely—only when stretched to my absolute limit—the blood supply at DEFTA was always clean and reliable, no chance of unwanted intoxicants or unpleasant flavors sometimes borne by human diseases. I always fed at the syndicate, rather than finding veins on the streets or in clubs as some chose to.
I selected my donors, based on age and health, some of their blood being sweeter and more nutritious than the others, but I never bothered to even converse with one of the humans before taking their veins.
I frown. The human donors at DEFTA fall asleep after feedings in comfortable chairs. Surely they know what’s going on? How else would they explain it to themselves when they woke?
So concerned with my own work and side research, I am shocked that I paid so little regard to these practical matters.
“So what did you do?” Gracen asks me, pulling me from my internal debate.
“At DEFTA?” I ask.
“No.” She chuckles. “To end up down here.”
I nod. This is where I cannot tell the truth. But it is difficult to imagine a crime that would warrant being incarcerated in such a place, so I find myself unable to craft a believable lie. I have never been good with falsehoods.
“It is complicated to explain,” I tell her. “What didyoudo?”
“Fucked someone I shouldn’t have.” She shrugs, and for the first time I see a hint of vulnerability in this female vampire.
“You did not commit a crime?”
“Fuck no. Not unless fucking a man another bitch wants for a mate is a crime.”
I look into her eyes, hoping to determine if she’s lying to me, but she seems sincere and full of regret. If she is down here for such a petty reason…
