Page 59
“You . . . told them I was your feeder?” I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper. Images flash in my mind, humans I’ve seen with bandages around their necks and wrists. The hollow look in their eyes. The way other humans would cross the street to avoid them, as if their fate was contagious.
“You know what I told King Zander,” he says calmly, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve. “If you weren’t treated like a prisoner, his men would ask questions, and I don’t need them reporting back to King Zander.”
“But King Zander and his men believe I poisoned you. Why would they think I’m your feeder?”
“Nothing stays in the blood for long.”
His words confuse me even more. If I’m not his feeder, what exactly does he want from me? Not that I wanted him to leech off me, but it would have made sense if that were my purpose. The memory of his bite—the way my dignity slipped away, the terrifying vulnerability of it—makes me shudder. Yet I can’t deny that it could be addictive.
“So because I’m your prisoner, I can’t go outside?” I ask, trying to understand the rules of my newest cage.
He sighs, the sound almost human. “If you’re a feeder, that usually means anyone can feed off you, so by all means, take a stroll on deck.” His voice takes on a mocking edge. “I’m sure they’ll love to take a bite from that slender neck.”
The thought sends a tremor through me. I shake my head quickly, pushing myself off the floor and moving toward the chaise, putting distance between us. My fingers skim over my neck where he bit me. “Is your bite different from other vampire bites?”
His brows crease in the middle as he considers my question. “My bite is different, but I’m not sure what you mean,” he admits, watching me closely.
“I’ve met a few full-time feeders, and their necks were heavily scarred, but you’ve bitten me twice, and both bites have healed.”
“Because you’re not a feeder, Alessia. Your bites healed because our saliva has healing abilities, just like our blood.”
“But the other feeders were still scarred.”
“Yes, because the blood banks don’t regulate how many bites a feeder will take in one day. Some of them are fed on by dozens before any bite has time to heal.”
“Wouldn’t that drain and kill them?”
“That is the difference between my bite and another vampire’s,” he answers. “Vampires don’t need much blood. They don’t have to drain and kill humans. Some do because draining someone to death can be addictive, and when their soul’s essence dies out, in a sense, we absorb it. It makes us stronger. It’s frowned upon since we need humans to ensure our existence, but accidents happen, especially if a feeder has been fed on by too many.”
I nod, my hand still rubbing my neck absentmindedly. “So how is that what makes your bite different?”
He becomes nervous, like he doesn’t want to tell me. “Because I can’t stop.”
“Wait . . . So if . . . If I . . . You would have killed me?”
He looks away. “You are the first person who has survived my bite since the curse started.”
My mind reels at this information, at how close to death I was without realizing. Wait, is that why he wants me? Because my power didn’t allow him to kill me? I’m an on-tap leech feeder?
“If my magic didn’t stop you then—”
“You’d be dead.”
I thought he lost control, but he knew he was going to kill me when he entered that room.
“You look upset.”
“You just said you’ve killed everyone you’ve fed off. That means when you came into that room, you had every intention of killing me.”
“But I didn’t.”
“Yes, but you went in there thinking whoever you were to feed off was going to die!”
“I never claimed to be a saint. I am a vampire, little mortal. Once I was in that room with you, there was no way I could walk out, even if I wanted to. It’s why you were blindfolded.”
Tears prick my eyes. “I thought they blindfolded me for confidentiality.”
“That’s what they tell you. Most full-time feeders have heard rumors regarding me.”
