Page 7 of An Acquired Taste

I should probably find that flattering, but instead, my pulse rises. What in the world is he thinking? Surely, choosing me will lead to disappointment. I’m about to askwhywhen Lissa enters with a tray of tiny sandwiches, and my stomach lets out a very loud grumble. The only thing I’ve eaten today was a muffin at the diner this morning and a few mouthfuls of rubbery spaghetti.

Benjamin huffs out a laugh. “Please, help yourself.”

I don’t need more encouragement than that. I sample a couple sandwiches—one cucumber with cream cheese, which is delightfully refreshing, and another with roast beef and spicy horseradish. It’s hard to get used to eating while Benjamin just sips his blood-infused tea, though.

“Do vampires eat?” I ask once I’ve polished off my second tea sandwich.

“We can if there is blood mixed into the food, but most vampires choose not to, save for special occasions. Blood sustains us.” He shrugs. “It usually tastes better, too.”

“Except for mine, apparently.”

He levels me with a disapproving look. “That is the sort of thing you arenotgoing to say at the ball,” he says. “I’ll be touting you as a unique delicacy, which you are. Do not devalue yourself.”

I take another sandwich and say nothing. Apparently, that’s our segue into the etiquette lesson, because Benjamin reaches into his pocket and pulls out a paper folding fan with a wooden handle. “Do you know what this is?”

I almost choke on my mouthful of egg sandwich in my haste to answer. “A blood card!”

He smiles, holding it out. I wipe my hands on my napkin before taking it in a reverent, two-handed grip. “That’s right. You’ll have one at the ball.”

I flip the fan open. The paper is thick and creamy, the wood polished and solid, and there’s a black silk ribbon tied around the end of the handle that attaches to an elegant quill pen. I feel luxurious just holding it and can’t resist the opportunity to fan myself and grin. I’ve seen blood cards on TV, read articles about those belonging to famous valentines, but never seen one in real life.

“On one side, we will write the name of your patron—or your chaperone, in this case—and some tasting notes for your blood,” Benjamin tells me. “The other will hold the time slots where vampires can sign to claim a drink from you. But always remember it isyourchoice, first and foremost, of who you allow to taste you.”

I snap the fan shut and hand it back to him. “How many time slots are there?”

“Six,” Benjamin says. “The party will last from dusk till dawn, approximately twelve hours. So you may be bitten once every two hours. Each one will take only a brief taste, so you will give a pint of blood total. Well within a safe range, and I will be with you, ensuring you stay fed and hydrated.”

“You’ll be with me all night? I didn’t realize the chaperone thing was literal.” It’s a relief to know I won’t be all alone in a party full of fanged predators, but still… “Don’t you have better ways to spend your time?”

“Than keeping you safe? No, Amelia. Nothing is more important than that.” He gives me a stern look. “That is the main purpose of these lessons. But the two most important rules you should know are these: you must never leave my side at the ball. And you must never let anyone bite you outside of the designated time slots on your blood card.”

“Right,” I say. “But… is it going to be an issue to keep mesafe? I thought there were all kinds of laws protecting valentines.”

“There are. Valentines are cherished and safeguarded in our society, but it is their patrons who guarantee that. Till you are claimed, you exist in more of a legal gray area.”

I swallow. My nerves flicker, but instead of scaring me off as they probably should, they only make me more curious. “So how are you going to keep me safe?”

He smiles. “With impeccable manners, of course.”

* * *

“I thought you were kidding,” I groan an hour later as Benjamin corrects my posture once again. I’m sweating from holding this stiff pose. Actually sweating. I didn’t think being polite would take so much effort. “There’s no way anyone actually cares about this stuff.”

We’ve moved from the parlor to the “sitting room,” because apparently that’s a thing that rich people have. Lissa has taken up a spot at the grand piano, and we’ve pushed the furniture to the sides to open up the center of the room as a makeshift ballroom. Bywe,I mean that Benjamin moved all of the furniture with an effortless strength belying his slim build, showing off the heightened abilities of a vampire.

I can’t lie, it was pretty hot to see him lift a couch with one arm, but I still don’t intend to get in the way of whatever is going on between him and Lissa. They keep stealing glances at each other when the other person isn’t looking.

From there, it’s straight into dance lessons. Even after witnessing the strength in Benjamin’s hands, I still feel safe with his palm resting on my lower back. I’ve gotten used to being in a vampire’s presence quickly, which I suppose bodes well for the ball, when I’ll be surrounded by them.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Benjamin says, coaxing my spine into the proper position. He is always polite, but he is also goddamn relentless.

“Huh?” Shit. I already forgot what we were talking about.

He shoots me an exasperated look. “Tradition is important to vampires. It is, in many ways, what binds us. A way to preserveour long, shared history. Some see it as what separates us from humans.”

“Sounds like some snooty, elitist shit,” I grumble.

Benjamin favors me with a smile. “Indeed,” he says, which draws a laugh out of me. “But it’s not without its merits. Adhering to social standards helps us to subdue our baser instincts. At our core, we are creatures of endless hunger and necessary bloodshed. It is important to prove to ourselves and to each other that we can overcome that. That our willpower is greater than our animal impulses. And, yes, there is a sense of proving we are superior to the humans we feed off.”

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