He braced a hand against the wall behind him. The other hand, now dark with his blood, was pressed to his chest. “I’ve felt better.”
“The blood of a dead human is like a poison for vamps,” I stated the obvious. “But the guy was barely dead. Why would it affect you this badly?”
His jaw clenched. When he raised his gaze to mine I could see the uncertainty there as well as the pain. “If the freshly dead blood was consumed orally it wouldn’t be as great a risk, but a silver weapon tipped with the same blood will have a more deadly result.”
“Deadly,” I repeated, feeling cold.
“I need to leave.” He made a move toward the door, but I easily blocked his way.
“Is there somebody who can help you? A doctor that knows how to fix this sort of injury?”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”
I felt a flash of panic. “What do you mean?”
His lips thinned. “Gideon may have gotten his wish tonight.”
“Don’t tell me you think you’re dying.”
“Then I won’t tell you that.” His pale expression shadowed. “But there is no cure I’m aware of to reverse the effects of such an injury.”
He braced himself against the wall behind him and slid slowly to the floor. The blood on his hand was slick and shiny even in the darkness.
If it was a regular knife wound it would be healed already. I remembered when I was staked and Thierry got me to drink from him afterward to help me heal up quickly with his master vampire blood.
According to Gideon, my blood was even more powerful than that. It had even taken his pain away. A magical cure-all.
“Wait here,” I snapped at him.
I was all bossy when I was scared. And I was. He was dying. It was slow but every moment that passed I could see the life leaving him bit by bit.
In the kitchen I grabbed the sharpest knife I could find and then went back into the living room.
“You need to drink some of my blood,” I told him. “If I can heal Gideon, maybe I can heal you, too.”
“Sarah—”
I waved off any protests he might make. “Gideon wants my blood because it’s supercharged with energy and healing properties. I’m like a can of medicinal Red Bull right now.”
I took the knife and held it against my forearm, tensed, and then dragged the sharp edge across my skin. Ouch. The blood welled up and I sat down on the floor next to him and held my arm out.
His eyes darkened, literally, but he turned his face away. “No, Sarah.”
“Drink.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
“I won’t. It’s… it’s complicated. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Stubbornness, thy name was Thierry de Bennicoeur. Yes, he had an addiction to blood and whenever he got a taste he went a bit insane. It had happened once or twice with me—
he’d tasted me and lost control. Now this might sound kind of hot, but it wasn’t. It was scary and dangerous and he’d almost drained me dry.
At the moment, I was tempting fate by waving myself like a big juicy steak in front of a starving lion. But there simply wasn’t any other choice.
“Stop being a baby and drink my blood.” Definitely not a phrase I used every day.
His eyes had turned completely black with hunger. “You don’t know what you’re doing.
You don’t know who I am.”
Wrong, devil-boy. I knew exactly who he was. He was the man I loved, despite his being the most impossible, stubborn, secretive jerk on the planet and currently under the impression I was cheating on him with the leader of the vampire hunters.
I brought my arm another inch closer.
“Sarah…” His voice lowered further, into a low tone that gave me goose bumps.
“Drink,” I insisted for what felt like the millionth time.
His hands moved to grip my arm and he gazed at the line of blood presented to him. After hesitating for another long moment, he lowered his mouth and slid his tongue along the wound and without any further protests, he drank. His eyes closed and he gripped me very tightly.
Sure, I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to stop him. When he drank blood he lost that part of himself that helped him stay in control. Sort of like me losing my gold chain. He’d promised to work on this little problem of his, but as with an alcoholic, it was probably best to stay away from the drug of choice.
Blood was Thierry’s drug. Which, as a vampire, was not exactly convenient.
After a minute or two, he pulled his mouth away from my skin and looked at me, his eyes as black as death itself. I forced myself to stand up and he followed. He trailed his hands around to my back, and he pressed me against the wall with the weight of his body.
“I don’t think your boyfriend would appreciate this.” His voice was low and sexy and very much not like the normal bloodless Thierry.
“You’re probably right,” I managed, my body tingling everywhere he touched me.
“And yet you’re not pushing me away.” One of his hands moved downward again to explore my body in a very non-first-date sort of way. I bit my bottom lip as a hot line of desire raced through me.
Black-eyed Thierry had a tendency to be way more aggressive than regular-eyed Thierry.
And while part of me feared this, another part really… well… liked it. A lot.
I know. I had issues.
He stroked the hair off my neck and pulled my shirt off my left shoulder. He did the same thing with my bra strap, and then he caressed the now-exposed skin there.
“You were right. Your blood has healed me, but I want more,” he growled, and I felt the brush of his fangs on my throat. “I need more.”
“You need more of my blood?”