Dalvin pulled out his wallet and laid some bills on the countertop, then flashed me the contents—a few twenties, a five, some ones.
“This enough?” he asked.
“Is that your gambling money?”
“I’m guessing you’d make me feel better than the slots.”
I smiled at his sweetness. “Is your place nearby?”
“Just a short walk down the road.” He climbed off his stool and seemed to want to touch me but hesitated. Perhaps it was your death glare or the fact that we were in a public place. Your shoulders straightened as you stood. So tall and wide. Just looking at you sometimes snatched the breath straight from my lungs. You stepped in front of Dalvin and blocked his exit.
“I should join you,”you rumbled. In her teachings, Mater hissed her seductions and you growled them. Mine were mostly suggestive flirtations. I wondered how our brother Lucian might operate.
“You should join us,” Dalvin repeated, and just like that, we were leaving the restaurant and making our way down the deserted street to his hotel room. The complex reminded me of the old school hotels in Miami Beach with the neon signage and a squat two-story building that surrounded a rectangular pool, kind of likeMelrose Place. The ones in South Beach were all remodeled, retro-cool, and outrageously expensive, while this one seemed authentically seedy.
There was a rig parked out front, which I assumed was Dalvin’s. I didn’t ask because he was still under your influence, and I didn’t want to mess that up. He unlocked his room on the ground floor and led us inside—yeah, remodeling definitely hadn’t been a priority. I didn’t want to think about the germs. Or the possibility of bed bugs. Papa would have walked straight out and told Dad to find another place, and I would have been right there with him.
You told Dalvin to have a seat on the bed, and he obeyed you without question.
“Are you expecting anyone?” you asked. Dalvin shook his head.
“Does he have any control over what’s happening to him?” I did my best to swallow my guilt.
“He has some control,” you said evenly. You suggested I talk him through it, so I went over and placed a hand on Dalvin’s shoulder.
“Dalvin, I have to be honest with you. You’re a really nice guy, and I’m not sure this is fair to you, but Henri and I are hungry. Like,reallyhungry. And, well, we’d like to drink your blood. But only a little bit. How does that sound?”
“Will it hurt?” he asked, and I glanced over at you.
“Not much,” you said.
“We’ll be gentle,” I assured him. Dalvin shrugged as though he didn’t have any more qualms about it. I was impressed by your power. I could get people to talk, but I couldn’t subdue them so completely.
“Do you have a soda or something you can drink afterwards?” I asked Dalvin.
“I have a couple of energy drinks in the mini-fridge. And beer for later.”
“Are those any good for this type of thing?” I asked you. It seemed risky to put chemicals into an already compromised system.
“Juice or sports drinks would be better. I saw a vending machine outside.”
“Would you mind?” I wanted to offer Dalvin every comfort we possibly could.
“I’m propping open the door. Yell right away if you need me.”
I nodded and you ducked out to the breezeway. I asked Dalvin a few more questions about his life. Never married, no kids that he knew of, a fling here and there but nothing long-term. He admitted that he enjoyed traveling and didn’t like to stay in one place for too long. But that he got lonely sometimes.
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?”
“I’m not very attractive,” he said. He was being way too hard on himself.
“Yes, you are. You’ve got really pretty eyes, and I’d bet you’re a good cuddler. A lot of people would love to snuggle up with you at night. And besides that, there are more important qualities than appearance.”
“Like what?” he asked skeptically.
“Like dependability and kindness. You seem like a really nice man. I’d rather have someone I can rely on than a stud who doesn’t treat me well.”
You came back then with a bottle of apple juice. The guilty look on your face told me you’d been listening.
