Page 140 of Blood Mosaic

“You want to work toward a whisper, not a shout.” Oksana stood beside Tatyana and raised her hand, putting Tatyana’s right palm against her own. “Feel my amnis?”

She nodded, and her own energy immediately reached for Oksana’s.

“Rude,” the woman snapped.

Tatyana pulled her hand back. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Oksana grabbed her hand again. “What you did? It’s like going up and hugging a stranger. Think of your amnis as an extension of your body. It’s there to protect you and to feel others out. But you meet someone and you don’t go up and kiss their face, do you?”

She felt a burning embarrassment. “Did I just kiss your face?”

Oksana gave her a wink. “I promise I won’t tell Ludmila.”

A low rumble of laughter from around the room, but once again it was congenial, not scornful.

“Don’t worry,” someone called. “We’ve all tried to kiss Oksana one time or another.”

“Until she mated Ludmila, and now we’re afraid of a bullet to the back of the head.” More laughter from the edges of the room.

Their lesson continued, and after several hours, Tatyana was starting to droop and her throat began to burn.

Oksana tapped her chin. “Your body can’t get tired anymore, but your amnis can.” She nodded to the fountain. “Go sit in the fountain and recharge.”

“Sit in the…?” She looked over her shoulder, then down at the sweatpants and T-shirt she was wearing. “Really?”

“If you want to get naked, no one will care and you’ll recharge faster.”

Tatyana glanced at the line of four men and two women standing along the wall of the ballroom. “I don’t think I’mthatcomfortable with everyone yet.”

Oksana laughed and clapped her on the shoulder. “At least take off your shoes. I’m going to go check on the perimeter with this gang. I’ll have someone send over another liter of blood.”

“Thank you.” She walked over to the marble fountain in the center of the ballroom and sat on the edge, leaning down to take off her shoes before she sank her feet into the cold water.

The relief and refreshment were nearly instant.

She closed her eyes and felt her amnis react to her element like a dry plant sucking up moisture through the roots. A moment later she smelled fresh blood at the door, and her head swung toward the scent.

The stocky vampire paused, lifting one eyebrow before he spoke to her in Russian with a heavy accent. “Your senses are good for a newborn.”

“Thank you?”

The older man grunted. “I’m Lazlo.”

“Tatyana Vorona.”

He set the silver carafe on the marble ledge where Tatyana was sitting. “I’m Oleg’s brother. I live in the forest behind the house.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” he growled. “And I’m older than him, so if you want to complain about his manners, talk to me.”

Tatyana couldn’t stop her smile. The vampire was dark-haired and olive-skinned. He appeared to be in middle age, but for vampires that could mean anything. Elene had once told herthe older a vampire looked, the younger they might have been when they were turned since people historically aged so much faster.

Elene didn’t know how old Oleg had been in his human life, but since he appeared to be in his forties, he was probably only in his twenties or thirties when he was changed.

Tatyana held her hand out to Lazlo and snapped. “That thing he does when he wants your attention.”

“The snapping?” The older vampire grimaced. “It makes me want to grab my axe.”

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