He rubs his hands over his eyes and looks down at the man on the table. “Who is this guy?”
Doc answers. “He’s been selling succubi and incubi in online auctions.”
Truth be told, my posh vampire looks a little green around the gills, but to his credit, he gives himself approximately thirty seconds to freak out, then squares his shoulders and looks at Miss Lillian, giving her a slight nod.
Remy looks down at the man on the table and gulps. “Am I killing him?”
Jameson mutters to himself and whispers to Lil. She turns to us and explains, “He says he’ll make sure the ghost stays away from here, but definitely kill him.” Jameson nods in his disembodied way.
“How does it work for you?” I ask, putting my hand on his chest.
Running his hand over mine, he answers, “New blood overtakes old. The body prioritizes.”
The idea of Remy being filled with this horrible man's blood makes me shiver. “I hate this.”
“Yeah, well. You aren’t the one who has to drink him,” Remy says, sticking out his tongue.
“I'm sorry. This will be over with soon enough.”
Miss Lillian grabs a wad of paper towels and cleans a place for Remy on the man's wrist. Taking a deep breath, he lowers his fangs and then sinks them into the man's flesh
I turn away, unable to watch him do it, a burning nausea in my soul.
“Oh, goddess.”
I spin around, and he’s pulling back from the man’s wrist, black liquid dripping from his fangs like oil.
“What is happening?” he asks, his eyes darting to everyone in the kitchen. “Have you poisoned him? Have you poisoned me?”
Doc shakes his head. “No, we would not poison you if we meant to kill you. We’d stake your heart and take your head for good measure.”
I turn to Doc, my old friend, humor quirking my brow. Meanwhile, Remy is at the sink, spitting out black blood and rinsing his mouth over and over again. While he does that, I take out my knife and open the man's vein. It spills out red. His eyes fly open, obscenities pouring from his mouth.
“What's wrong with your blood?” I demand, grabbing this human stain by the neck.
“There's nothing wrong with my blood,” he says, spitting at me. “It's you with your shifter blood and your devil ways—that’s what’s wrong with the blood.”
Wiping his spit from my cheek, I cold-cock him, unable to listen to that filth a second longer. Whether he passed out or decided to remain quiet, I don’t care.
“Doc, didn't you feed Remy when you rescued him?”
Doc nods and begins to roll back his sleeve. “A little.”
Remy holds up his hand. “Are you sure that you want me to feed from you again so soon?”
Doc waves him off. “You barely took any from me in the warehouse. You were very nice about it. So here, take a few more drops, and let's see what the big bad wolf shifter has done to you.”
“I didn't do anything! I tried to walk out of the room! I tried to stab him, to shoot him, and the moon wouldn't let me.”
“You tried to stab me?” Remy asks, his eyes wide as he looks up at me.
I cup his cheek with my hand. “It was just a test. I would not have gone through with it, but the moon threw the knife out of my hand, and I could not maintain a grip on the gun.”
Doc sticks out his wrist. “Come now, just a few drops.”
Remy lowers his teeth, sending a little glamour Doc’s way before sinking into his wrist. Within seconds he pulls back, the same oily tar dripping from his teeth as from the man on the table. He gags over the sink as he turns the water back on.
“Don't make me do that again. Please.”
