At my silence, he turns to face me. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, you didn’t.”
He rolls his eyes.
“You really didn’t, Jer. It doesn’t bother me. I just didn’t think about… that. With partners.” We’re quiet for a minute before I ask, “Is that… I mean, is that how you drink it now?”
He snorts. “You really want to talk about me drinking blood?”
I shrug. “It’s your life now, isn’t it?”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “You don’t want to know.”
“I do, though. We used to share everything. So why would this be any different?” I can tell he still doesn’t believe me, so I add, “I’m serious, okay? You just caught me by surprise, since I haven’t really thought about how you get it. Like I know restaurants and bars offer it, but I get that it’s not the same for newbies. You can’t have it in food. At least that’s what Ralph said.”
His face darkens, gaze dropping to my neck before he quickly looks away. Is this conversation making him want blood? Or is he thinking of drinking from me?
To be fair, Ihavethought about Jericho biting me—dozens of times. For months, all I could think about was the possibilities. But they were almost always centered around one question: could I trust him? I knew I wanted to see him again, which meant there was a risk of him losing control and biting me, but I never thought about giving himpermission. Why would I? It seems so… intimate.
Just like Anita and Marybeth.
“Does it hurt?” I ask without thinking.
“Does what hurt?”
“When you bite someone,” I say. “Does it hurt them?”
He seems confused, or maybe amused. “You really do want to know this stuff?”
I shrug. “Why not?”
He hesitates before saying, “It can. A vampire’s bite is controlled by their emotions just as much as it’s controlled by the human’s emotions. If they’re afraid of us, it usually hurts, but if they trust us, or better yet, desire us, it can be very enjoyable.”
I don’t miss the hitch in his voice. A bite can give someone pleasure. A strange feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Has he done that with other people? Give them pleasure?
“And you…” I clear my throat. “When you drink, you… make people feel good?”
He turns a sharp eye on me. Half amused, half… something else. Sad, maybe? “I tried not to let anyone feelanythingwhen I drank. I just wanted to get it over with. I usually just order from bars now. It’s not the same, but it works.”
I grin and hold my hands up in an empty salute. “One warm crimson pint for my friend and one cold amber one for me!”
He laughs loudly. “Shut up.”
I snicker. “Hey, at least we can have that again someday. Gives us something to look forward to.”
He turns his attention back to the thread on his jeans. “I don’t trust myself to drink fresh anymore,” he says, his voice thick with regret.
I think about the lives Jericho has taken and lean into him. “I’d trust you, though.”
My comment surprises us both. I’ve already told him I’d trust him, but somehow, we both know we aren’t talking about a life-or-death situation. If Jericho wanted my blood, I’d trust him to take it without hurting me.
His nostrilsflare.
“I’m just saying.”
“Evan, stop,” he snaps. “Don’t go there, okay?”
“Why?”
