“Doing what?”
“That thing you do with your eyes.”
“My eyes?”
“Yeah.” He waves a salt-dusted finger in my face. “It’s like looking at an Ashbourne-sized doll. Freaks me out.”
He grimaces, and all I can do is blink.
While he may not have the words to describe what he’s looking at, I know what he’s referring to.
It’s my glamour, the veil that covers my face and weighs on their emotions, bidding them to let me in. In short, it’s the bait. And apparently, Elliot has never taken it.
His voice interrupts my realization.
“So listen, the inquiry will take a few weeks. Maybe a few months, depending on whether they manage to find any leads. So we only need to keep this up for a little while. Probably until the mid-term.”
“Mid-term?” I blurt, before lowering my voice. “That’s three months from now.”
“You’ll live.”
“Not if I die of starvation,” I snap back.
He smirks, shaking his head.
“Hells, Ashbourne, you’re so dramatic. I said I would feed you.”
My face must betray my skepticism, because he quickly adds, “Don’t tell me you’re sick of me all of a sudden.”
No, I’m not sick of him. If I had to pick one of my regulars for the rest of time, it would be Elliot. He’s delicious. But if sourcing a steady supply for someone with an appetite like mine were that easy, I would have done it ages ago.
“No,” I clarify. “I just don’t think you’ll be enough for me.”
He laughs. This time, loud and earnest, as if he finds my concerns truly outlandish. But I’m serious.
I learned the hard way not to feed from the same source two times in a row. It takes the average person about three days to regenerate their energy after I feed from them. So, for someone who can only go about forty-eight hours without feeding, a rotating supply is essential.
But Elliot seems undeterred.
“Trust me, princess,” he boasts. “I can handle it.”
I shake my head.
Men. Always with the unearned confidence.
“Okay, what about after?” I ask, hoping it will deter him from this ridiculous plan.
“After?”
“Yeah. What if I get stuck bonded to you or something?”
Elliot frowns, swapping the fry baskets around so he can have a turn with the cheese.
“Why would you end up bonded to me?” he asks.
“Oh, I don’t know. Why would I go upstairs and come back down as your girlfriend?”
I cock my head, driving home my point, but Elliot’s only answer is the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he chuckles silently.
