Page 17 of Blood Bound

“Darick?” Marcus’s voice sounds concerned now. “Maybe we should continue this later. You don’t look well.”

I wave off his concern. “No, I’m fine. We need to stay on top of this. What were you saying about the younger vampires?”

“No, you’re not fine,” Marcus insists. “Look at you, Darick. You can barely stand straight. This curse you’re fighting…it’s affecting your judgment.”

I bristle at his words, but deep down, I know he’s right. The hunger gnaws at me, a persistent ache that’s becoming harder to ignore. “What do you suggest then?” I snap.

Marcus sighs, his expression softening. “You need a stable blood source, Darick. We can’t afford to have you compromised, not with Lucien making his moves.”

“And where do you propose I find this ‘stable blood source’?” I ask, my tone bitter. “In case you’ve forgotten, I can’t exactly walk into a blood bank anymore.”

“There are other witches,” Marcus says carefully. “You could reach out to willing participants. It wouldn’t be ideal, but it would keep you functioning until we figure out a long-term solution.”

The mere thought of drinking another witch’s blood makes my gut tighten. “No,” I say firmly. “That’s not an option.”

Marcus frowns. “Darick, be reasonable. You can’t go on like this. If Rowan won’t help you—”

“It’s not about Rowan helping me,” I interrupt. “It’s…different with her. Her blood, it’s…” I trail off, unsure how to explain the pull I feel toward her, the way her blood sings to me like no other.

“Different in what way?” Marcus presses.

I huff out a breath, frustrated. “I don’t know. It just is.”

“I think you’re being too hasty.” Marcus looks at me. “You’ve only tried from one other source, no?”

I nod. “The stuff Lucien gave me at the Nocturne Lounge. It did nothing for me.”

“But it didn’t kill you, right?”

“No,” I acknowledge. “I just didn’t…like it.”

“Who says you had to like it? It just has to keep you alive until you can figure things out.”

“What’s to figure out? I need her blood. But that’s not going to happen.” I think of wide green eyes and creamy skin, of titian curls tumbling over softly rounded shoulders, of—

“Darick!” Marcus’s voice is sharp. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were moping.”

I snap a look at him. “Can you blame me? You’ve said it yourself: I have the Bloodbane; she’s my blood match. I need her to survive.” Although part of me is wondering if that’s all there is to it.

“Just like I said: You’re moping.”

“She fucking fried me, Marcus. Burned me to a crisp.” I can still see the look in her eyes as she stared at me in horror. Seeing me as a monster.

That’s because you are…

“Oh, boo-hoo.” Marcus rolls his eyes. “I never thought I’d see the day that the mighty Lord Drake would be felled by a girl.”

“She’s a woman, Marcus.”

“Right. Woman. Who took you out at the knees. Crippled you.”

“She didn’t fucking cripple me, you dick!”

“Really? Then there’s no harm in finding an alternative. Let’s face it, it would be the strategic thing to do.”

“Strategic?” I cock my head, turning away from the view.

“You’ve forgotten the Lucien problem?” He lifts an eyebrow. “If he finds out you’re reliant on the witch, he can use her as leverage against you.”

---