Page 132 of Vampires and Violas

“Something has been bothering me. This house Sophia is working for—they probably don’t want Cassian to figure out who they are, right?”

“Definitely not.”

“Which means they might do something to the woman who was about to spill everything she knows?”

Noah looks skeptical. “You don’t think Sophia skipped town?”

“I don’t know. But did you see the way she looked at Cassian? I don’t think she was going anywhere.”

“She might have been abducted,” Noah says, but I’m not sure he believes it.

“Or worse,” I point out.

“No matter what, we have to find her.” Noah looks as tired as I feel. “But not tonight. It’s late.”

I avert my eyes. “I think I need a little blood before bed.”

“Cassian said you had your evening dose already.”

And I did, but I’m feeling edgy.

“You go on upstairs,” I urge him.

But he doesn’t go, which is unfortunate. He’ll know something is wrong if I drink my blood straight, and I’m not ready to talk about it yet.

Or maybe I’m just not ready to admit out loud what I suspect must be happening.

I open the fridge. When I take out my prescription, I grab the cranberry juice, too. I think the plant-based foods are starting to bother me, and that’s why my stomach has been upset all day, but one more time should be okay. I’m still transitioning.

My fangs haven’t fully come in yet, and Noah said that was the key.

The fangs.

That’s how you know.

I swallow, feeling sick, my tongue once again running along my upper gums.

I pour the blood into the cup, adding more than usual, and then reach for the cranberry juice. But Noah places his hand on mine before I pour it in, stopping me.

“Don’t,” he says softly. “Don’t make yourself sick.”

My throat closes, and moisture glosses my eyes.

He knows.

Cassian must have told him.

I lift my gaze to his, refusing to let the tears fall even though I’m really freaked out. “It’s supposed to bethreebites. And this was barely a bite at all.”

“Have your fangs come in?” He drops his voice to a whisper.

“Not yet,” I admit, gulping in a lungful of air. “But I can feel them.”

He sets his hands on my arms and rubs softly. “It hurts for a while, but then it’s just an annoyance.”

“I’m not ready.”

“I’m sorry, Piper,” he whispers, looking anguished. “I failed you.”

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