Page 81 of Blood Lovers

“How much more?”

“You will be feeding him for a long time, my girl. Little sips here and there, like last night, are fine. If you don’t mind feeding him all day long. But if you just let him drink from your throat, he will be able to go a day or two without needing more.”

So that’s it.

I’m a feeder. I’m not a prisoner somewhere, no one is keeping me in a cage, and I’m not even afraid, but I am a feeder.

It’s just… I’m feeding a man I happen to like.

“Wow.” I look up at Paul, who is smiling down at me with a tender look in his eyes. “That’s some trick you did there.”

“Not a trick. You did this, not me.”

And he’s right. I did.

“Now, when he wakes up, you need to explain this to him.”

“You just said I have time!”

“You do. But not much. He needs to feed and this is urgent. So you need to make him drink. He’s going to protest. He might even walk out.” My heart skips when he says this. “But he will come back. And you can always find him in the dreams. All you have to do is look.”

I just… stare at the dorm room for a long moment. Then I say, “What if I don’t feed him? He’ll die?”

“He will. But don’t worry. You will feed him.”

Paul disappears, the dorm room fades, and I slowly open my eyes and find myself looking up at Ryet’s cottage ceiling.

I turn my head and find that the other side of the bed is empty. Then I sit up, scared, and still too confused to process the conversation in my dream—then realize he’s in the shower.

The relief washes over me.

Then, almost as fast, it recedes and the questions start pouring in.

Now what?

Do I stay and let him drink my blood?

Do I leave while he’s in the shower? Just get in my truck, drive my sixty-seven miles, and try to forget everything that just happened?

Call Zusi and Tristin and ask for help?

I don’t know. The only thing I do know is that I want to get the fuck out of this cottage. I don’t want to be here anymore.

I get out of bed—still fully dressed, boots on—and walk over to the door. I’m just reaching for the doorknob when the bathroom door opens and when I turn, Ryet emerges, naked to the waist, wearing jeans and with boots on his feet, still kinda dripping, and towel-drying his hair so he doesn’t see me right away.

I step away from the door. “Hey. You’re feeling better, huh?”

He lowers the towel and grins. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just really needed a shower.”

“I need one too.” I point at his bathroom. “And that’s a really clean, new bathroom, but I’m not showering in there.” I say all this like we’re just a fun couple who banters. And he’s not a vampire and I’m not his food.

Of course, he doesn’t know that. But he will soon.

“So. Shower at your place, then breakfast?”

God, why does he have to be so beautiful? And he’s even more beautiful this morning than he was that first night. It’s like he’s… glowing.

Yeah, that’s probably because he drank your blood a few hours ago, Syrsee.