He seems to be coming round to the idea of being turned. I had a sneaky peek after I fed from him. His thoughts were full of wondering what it would be like to be immortal and, of course, how great it would be to hang out with moi for eternity and have lots of vampire sex (I may have subtly projected that thought into his mind).
However, we need to talk about it more as he wants to think through the practical side of it, especially in terms of his job and his family. It’s true being a vampire is cool, but it’s not all flying around in the moonlight and enjoying an ageless appearance. There are certain sacrifices you have to make. He might have to quit his job or become estranged from his family so they don’t ask questions about why he’snot ageing and why he’s requesting rare roast beef for Sunday lunch.
And adding to our coven will mean Elliott will have another mouth to feed. We rely on him so heavily now as it is, and there are only so many donations per week that he can muster. But Damian can feed from me initially, so it’s not a pressing problem.
As if she senses me thinking about Elliott, Sadie summons me just as I step out of my lair.
Sadie:Can you bloodseek tonight?
Me:I’m literally about to go to Damian’s.
Sadie:Can you do it afterwards?
Me:Not really.
Sadie:Fine. Just make sure you do it soon.
She leaves my mindspace abruptly like someone slamming a door.Wow, someone’s feeling edgy tonight.
For a minute, I feel bad. But I’m wearing my corset, fishnet stockings, and suspenders. It’s sexy, but uncomfortable as hell to climb in.
***
‘What exactly are you cooking?’ I eye Damian’s dining table suspiciously. He’s set it for two, but there’s no cutlery, only a red napkin and a white paper straw beside each place mat.A couple of candles burn sultrily in brass holders.
‘You’ll find out in exactly’—he looks at his watch—‘two minutes. Now if you would be so good as to take a seat, my lady.’
He pulls out the chair for me in a gentlemanly fashion, and I resist the urge to snort. It would be rude as he’s gone to some effort to make it romantic and has even dressed up formally in a suit and tie. All rather strange for a Wednesday night, but I’ll run with it.
He kisses the top of my head. ‘I’ll be back in a mo,’ he murmurs. I tilt my chin up, wanting a proper kiss, but he’s skedaddled back to the kitchen.
I sigh and fiddle with my straw.
A whirring noise sounds from the kitchen.
A clatter. Then swearing.
I giggle softly to myself. I get the impression Damian’s not used to cooking.
He pokes his head out the doorway.
‘If you would be so good as to close your eyes.’
Obediently, I shut my eyes as he places objects on the table and fusses around a bit.
‘You can look now,’ he says at last.
I crack open an eye to find a pint glass of red liquid sitting in front of me. It’s decorated with a wedge of pineapple on the side, and several cocktail umbrellas havebeen poked in. A familiar heavenly aroma wafts upward, and I lean forward and sniff.
‘Is this ...?’
Damian smirks and nods, looking pleased with himself.
He sits across the table with the same ruby-red drink festooned with decorations in front of him. He plonks in the straw and bends down to place it to his lips.
Dismay rolls through me.
‘Damian, please don’t—’
