I snorted. He would have respected her more if she was honest.
All companions wanted to join the ranks of the undead. It was why they let the vampires feed from them. It was why they accepted a status of being second class, little more than indentured servants, from what I could see. It was true some vampires treated their companions with love and affection, but a human would never be the dominant in any relationship. Not even an equal, if what I’d seen was anything to go by.
If Deborah thought this little display would be more conducive to obtaining her lofty goal of the kiss, she should think again. Vampires respected strength and stubbornness. They had to. Too many of them succumbed to death during the transition. Only the strongest survived.
“No, thank you,” I said politely.
Deborah didn’t like that. She might not want to be my donor, but she also couldn’t fail to notice the insult being rejected would bring. Not that I meant it as a rejection.
I turned my attention to Thomas. He stared back at me expectantly.
“You know I don’t drink from humans. Bring bottled blood if you have it, and if not, I’ll wait until I get home,” I told him firmly.
It was the only way to be with this vampire. If I gave him even a little bit of space, he’d push for more. He did it time and again.
“You’re being stubborn,” he said. The slight smile on his face said he didn’t truly object.
Before I could respond, he leaned closer, his eyes hypnotic in their intensity. They were liquid silver as they became all I could see, so focused on them the rest of the world faded around us.
Power arced between us, warmth spilling through me.
“You’re so thirsty,” Thomas said, his voice a thrumming purr. “You want to drink and her blood would taste so good.”
He looked at the woman, my gaze turning with his until my vision spun down to Deborah’s slim neck. Her pulse pounded at the base, calling me, tempting me.
My gums ached as my fangs descended, my gaze never wavering from that pulse. It was a siren call, a demand, one that overrode the small voice at the back of my mind telling me I didn’t want to do this—that following this urge to its conclusion would cost me more than I could understand.
Just a small taste wouldn’t be so bad. I’d been so good for so long. Feeding from her wasn’t so different from feeding from Liam. It wouldn’t make me less human; It just made me what I was. Vampire. Top of the food chain. The only predator that mattered.
The world popped and I was standing before Deborah, the fear pouring off her potent as it called to me, whispering to my most base instincts.
I grabbed her shoulders, yanking her to me.
“Easy,” Thomas crooned in my ear. “You don’t want to hurt her.”
No, I didn’t. I needed the blood in her veins. Hurting her might cost me that.
I bent lower, my fangs piercing the delicate flesh. The first taste of blood brought me back to myself, the warm copper coating my tongue restoring my sanity.
A strong hand on the back of my head kept me from jerking back.
“Not yet. You need more,” Thomas said.
His grip was implacable, impossible to budge. My defenses teetered as blood filled my mouth.
“Swallow, my dear,” Thomas urged.
I couldn’t. Blood dribbled out the side of my mouth.
“Aileen, swallow.” His voice turned dark with power, impossible to resist.
The first mouthful overrode my willpower. After that, I drank without thought, pressing the woman against me as I fed from her throat, that which made me Aileen, washed away on a sea of decadent life. It was like biting into a lightning bolt, powerful and bold, but instead of being singed, it restored the pieces of me that I didn’t even know were missing.
“That’s enough. Let go now,” Thomas said. A pressure on my neck forced me to unlatch.
I made a wordless sound of protest. The urge to drink the source dry was almost undeniable. I struggled for a long second, trying to fight my way back to the nectar of life. He held me easily, with no more effort than he might use to subdue a week-old puppy.
“Shh, enough of that,” Thomas murmured, his hands strong as he turned me away.
