"Fresh blood?" Zilla asks him concerned.
"He needs to feed." Zeke doesn’t hesitate to respond.I would actually love a cigarette right about now.
Zilla turns sharply in her seat. "You’re serious?"
Zeke nods at her once. "Fresh human blood. It’s the only way he will heal fast enough, you know that."
The car swerves around a bend violently, its tires shrieking against the frozen asphalt. Zeke’s knuckles are white from the pressure he puts on the steering wheel, his eyes are locked on the road ahead, and his voice cuts through the chaos like a blade. Neo’s stomach twists when she looks down at me, as she sees my clammy skin and shallow breath. I’m barely able to keep my eyes open to look back at her.
"We’ll find someone," Zeke says, eyes locked on the road. "A drifter, a loner, someone no one will miss."
Neo’s trembling hands tighten around my body, my skin getting colder and colder, and my wound is still leaking warmth into her lap.
"No," she says with a low but steady voice. "He doesn’t need a stranger."
Zilla turns, narrowing her eyes. "Neo..."
"I’m a witch," she says louder now. "My blood is different."
Zeke glances at her in the rear-view mirror, disbelief flickering across his face. "You’d let him feed from you?"
I stir weakly, my voice a rasp. "No!"
She presses her forehead to mine and whispers, "I didn’t ask for permission!"
Neo cradles me, her pulse racing beneath her skin, and she is flushed with fear. The wound in my ribs throbs.
"I’m here," she brushes back my hair. "Take it, take what you need."
My stormy looking eyes flicker open, and I look into hers. "Neo… I can’t."
"You can," she says with a trembling voice. "And you will do it or I swear..."
She tilts her head, exposing the curve of her neck, showing the pulse that beats only for me. Her blood is ancient and potent, laced with magic that calls to me like a song only I can hear. I hesitate, my hand trembling as I lift it to her cheek. "It’ll hurt."
"I know," she breathes.
I lean in, my lips brushing her neck, my breath hot and ragged as I kiss her skin. Then, she feels the sting. Her gasp is caught in her throat as my fangs pierce the flesh, and the world narrows to heat and heartbeat and the pull of something deeper than love.
It is pain for her, but threaded with something electric. Her magic surges, meeting my hunger, flooding me with life. She can feel me grow stronger with every swallow, my grip tightening and my body pressing closer.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, and she holds me there, trembling, tears slipping down her cheeks as power, love and desperation tangle between us.
How am I going to tell her? That feeding from someone and keeping that person alive is… very rare. No, it’s not only rare, it’s impossible. Unless…
Unless she’s truly mine.
Only soulmates can survive the bond that forms through feeding; only they can offer their blood and not be consumed. I remember the first time I sensed her; the feeling called out to me… like hearing my name in a language I don’t fully understand.
She is mine.
And now she offered herself to me freely, without knowing what it means, what it bounds. I can’t ruin her holiday by telling her everything… but I will do it soon after.
I reach out and brush her cheek with the back of my hand. She leans into it, unaware of the storm behind my eyes.
I am so sorry, but you’re mine.
The fight with the Krampus left me drenched in blood and soot, my body streaked with claw marks and ash.
