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“I know.”

“Are you dying?” The words quivered.

“No, love. Very weak. Don’t.”

He tried to ward me off, but I batted his hand away. The skin on his face looked severely burned, almost corroded. Blistered and raw, open and oozing something that resembled blood but was darker and thicker. It didn’t look healthy or normal.

“Jesus fuck.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Hold still. This might hurt.” I pressed the cloth to his face, and he hissed, extended teeth on full display. Their length and needlepoint sharpness made me hesitate.

His eyes blazed. A low growl emanated from deep in his chest. “This bravado is not cute, Ensley. You test my limits.”

I didn’t know what that meant and stood my ground, fighting the urge to back away, yet needing to do something.

“This won’t help.” Again, he tried to push me off. “You’re too close. Back off.”

I retreated, heartsore at his constant rejection. “I don’t know what else to do. Can I take you to the hospital? Call a doctor? It’s bad. It’s already infected.” I didn’t know that for sure, but if it wasn’t now, it would be soon.

A pained smile touched his lips. “A hospital can’t help me. I’m fine. Trust me. Let me go downstairs.”

“But…” Fine? How could he say that? He wasn’t fine.

Struck immobile by a thought, I took him in from head to toe. Mordecai was not human. His chest and clothes were burned. A slice through his pantleg showed an open wound surrounded by blood as thick and dark as molasses. He was in evident pain. Rapidly aging.

Something was wrong. What was happening?

Years of gaming, combined with a teenage fascination with horror novels and movies, made me step back. “Wait. Why aren’t you healing? All vampires have that ability, don’t they?”

Yet, the longer Mordecai sat before me, the worse he seemed.

“You are dying.” I choked on the words. “I thought… Tell me what to do.”

I had to help. This couldn’t happen.

In truth, I didn’t know a thing about his kind. We hadn’t discussed half of what I wanted to the previous night. Hell, up until twenty-four hours ago, I’d been convinced there was a different explanation besides the supernatural.

Immortal meant hard to kill, not impossible.

What if all I thought I knew was wrong? It didn’t make sense. Mordecai should be uncannily strong. He should be able to take down an army of men single-handedly. Why was he so weak?

So… human?

Mordecai took my hand and squeezed, drawing me closer. “I’m not dying, Ensley.” He met my worried gaze with his strange, inhuman eyes. “I’m depleted. It happened far more rapidly than usual. I will soon fall into a state of torpor. Your foot—”

“What does that mean?”

“It means my powers are drained, and I cannot heal.” He licked his lips, nostrils flaring and teeth glinting in the light. “I have not fed in many weeks. A mistake I must soon rectify. It has left me in a state of exhaustion. Your foot… I smell your blood, and my control is compromised. Understand that I am not rejecting you, love.”

He cradled my face, regret and something I couldn’t identify coloring his expression. “I’m trying to keep you safe. Downstairs. Please. I must sleep. I’ll be able to… rejuvenate.”

My foot. The cut. The blood that was drying and causing me to stick to the floor. He smelled it?

“Why haven’t you fed?”

“Ensley… not now. I have little self-restraint, and you are a temptation unlike any other.”