Ivy's gaze darted around the room, finding no one willing to side with her.
Deborah stood. "Aileen, I'll feed you."
Ivy shoved past, the angry sound of her footsteps echoing long after she was gone.
Anton flicked his fingers at the stranger. "You."
"Gladly." The stranger smiled and stood, taking a seat next to Anton. He ran one finger along his neck before leaning toward the enforcer.
I looked away as Anton reached up, his hands cupping the stranger's shoulders and pulling him closer. All the while I could feel that his eyes were locked on me.
Deborah held out her wrist, thankfully not commenting when she saw my hands shaking.
Feeding from Deborah was different than when I tasted Liam's blood. For one, there was no instant desire that threatened to overwhelm my faculties. This was much more clinical. It involved taking what I needed without causing pain. Nothing more; nothing less.
I'd been told my bite was mildly pleasant for a human. If I wanted, I could edge it toward intense pain or pleasure.
Minutes later, I was full. I swiped my tongue across the wounds and straightened.
"Thank you," I said softly.
Her nod was short. "Any time."
She stopped me as I turned away, catching my arm. "I mean that."
The offer was a surprise—especially considering the dislike she'd shown me in the past.
I hesitated, searching for an ulterior motive.
Finished with his meal, Anton stood, an imperious demand on his face. "Come along. Nathan sent me to fetch you."
Deborah let me go.
"I'm coming," I said, moving toward the hallway.
I chanced one last glance behind me, lifting a hand in thanks. "See you around."
Deborah's nod was firm.
I trailed Anton for a few steps before he dropped back to join me.
"Does that happen often?" His voice was tight and his face expressionless.
I didn't pretend to misunderstand. "Never quite that obvious."
There had been tension for some time between me and those who were unclaimed. On one hand I understood it.
From an outsider's perspective, it would seem like I was rejecting the gifts I'd been given. Ones they wanted with all their being.
"I'll take care of it," Anton said.
I shot him a glance. "No offense, but I don't want to feed from people who are unwilling."
I had enough issues without adding worry that they weren’t there of their own volition to the mix.
"They're well compensated for their time and blood," Anton said in a mild voice. "They receive a yearly salary of eighty thousand dollars. That's on top of a yearly stipend for clothes and other necessities. Nor do they pay for their room and board while with us. They can swallow any personal feelings they have to do their very simple job."
I stopped walking when I learned how much they made. Anton continued past for several steps before pausing.
