"I know. You'd think vampires would have better taste." Charlie picked at a loose thread on his jeans. "He was drunk. Really drunk. Could barely stand."
"Vampires don't get drunk easily. He must have fed on someone intoxicated. Multiple someones." Simon's fingers flew across the tablet. "What else?"
"He thought it was hilarious. The whole thing. Kept laughing while he..." Charlie touched his neck unconsciously. The bitemarks had healed, but he could still feel the ghost of them. "He said something like 'Let's see what happens' and then just... left. I passed out. Woke up three hours later feeling like I was dying."
And aside from feeling like he was dying, he'd also felt really, really lonely. But Charlie didn't mention that part.
The memory still stung.
"You were." Simon set the tablet aside. "Did he say anything else? Give any indication where he was going?"
"He mumbled something about the others waiting for him."
Simon's expression darkened. "Others. So he wasn't alone."
"I guess not." Charlie's shoulders drooped. "Does it matter?"
"Everything matters." Simon stood abruptly, pacing to the window. "Vampires who travel in groups are either very old or very stupid. Old vampires don't wear Nickelback shirts and get sloppy drunk."
"So they're stupid?"
"Stupid and careless." Simon turned back to him. "Which makes them dangerous in a different way. No rules, no territory, no accountability. They turned you for entertainment and left you to die or go feral."
"Is that what usually happens?" Charlie asked quietly. "When someone's abandoned like that?"
Simon was quiet for a moment. "Most don't make it past the first week. They either starve, get burned by sunlight, or lose control and get themselves killed by hunters."
"But I made it three weeks."
"Miraculously." Simon's tone was impossible to read. "You shouldn't have survived. You definitely shouldn't be sane."
"I don't feel very sane," Charlie admitted. "I fainted at the sight of blood yesterday, but all I can think about now is…" He trailed off, heat rising to his face.
"Is what?"
Charlie shook his head. He couldn't possibly tell Simon that Simon's blood was all he could think about. That even now, with Simon across the room, Charlie could hear his heartbeat like a drum calling him home.
It didn't make sense.
Shouldn't he be sated now that he had fed?
Before last night, he'd made it three weeks without blood. How could he be craving another helping already?
The worst idea was that Simon seemed to have some idea what was going on. His eyes sharpened as he looked at Charlie.
"You're hungry?" he asked, and suddenly he was very close.
Charlie pressed himself back against the chair, but there was nowhere to go. Simon braced one hand on the wall above him, leaning in until Charlie could feel the heat radiating off him.
"You're thinking about blood. My blood."
"I—"
"Go ahead." Simon tilted his head slightly, exposing the line of his throat. Charlie could see his pulse jumping there, steady and strong.
Charlie's fangs descended so fast it hurt.
"Prove me right," Simon said.
