I wave my wand over his hands, casting the spell, then start walking again.
He’s unbelievable! He wants me to drink hisblood? As ifnot drinking his bloodhasn’t been my primary concern since my fangs grew in!
He’d actually let medrinkhim . . .
Never mind the pain. Or the scars. Or the blood loss.
Or the risk of becoming a monster.
I thought maybe Snow didn’t want to share a bed with me because he was afraid I’d bite him in my sleep. But apparently that’s fine! Bloodletting is fine—intimacy is the real taboo!
“Don’t people notice you?” he asks, still unbothered. “Strolling around with a bunch of dead rats?”
“Not usually. I cast a spell if they do.”
“How many rats do you need to get full?”
“Depends on the size. Four to six.”
Simon giggles. “Four to six.”
I shake my head. “I still can’t believe you’re doing this with me.”
“I’ve kind of already done it with you. I used to follow you around the Catacombs every night.”
I laugh. “Those weren’t dates, Snow.”
He grins. “Is this a date, then?”
I go back to scanning the alley for rats. “You really were obsessed with me, weren’t you? I can’t believe you didn’t know you were gay.”
“I’m not gay,” Simon says. Immediately.
I stop and turn back to him. “Oh. I’m sorry. I suppose, I mean—” We’ve never really talked about this. I’ve just assumed . . . I don’t know what I’ve assumed. “Are you bi, then?”
“What?” He looks put off. “No.”
“Well . . .” I look around the alley, like I might find something helpful there. I hold up my hands. I forget I’m carrying rats. “What does thatleave,Simon? Do you still think you’re straight?”
“Christ, Baz, I never thought I was straight. I never thought about it at all.” He’s walking down the alley, away from me.
I follow after him. “Haven’t you thought about it a little? Sinceus?”
“What’s there to think about? I’m with you. And you’re a . . .” He trails off.
“Man,” I say flatly.
Simon shrugs. “I was going to say ‘boy.’ ”
“I’m twenty years old. I could go to war.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“So, you do know you’re dating a man. That’s a start.”
He turns to wink at me. “A-ha, thisisa date.”
“Simon, I’m being serious.” I’ve stopped walking.
