Page 90 of To Challenge a Wolf

“How do you not cut your bottom lip or your gums?” she said.

“Instinct, I guess.” His voice was the same, but hiss’s held a hiss like a snake’s. It was a soft sound, not at all clumsy as though his teeth didn’t fit in his mouth. More like the emergence of his fangs had given him yet another level of predatory elegance. “They’ll retract in about two minutes, when I don’t consume any more.”

“What if you wanted to slake from a human? Would your fangs know that and…come out? Before you’d tasted blood?”

“What a morbid question.” He seemed truly bothered by it. “You know I don’t do that. We’re cultured against it these days, and anyway I wouldn’t.”

“I know. It’s just a scientific question.”

He shook his head. He seemed as if he wouldn’t answer her. Then he said, “Thirst can cause a vampire’s fangs to emerge, but I don’t control them the way I open and shut my mouth. They’re more like saliva, produced only when needed.”

“That’s impressive. Also terrifying, though less so than the not-hypnosis-but-sure-felt-like-it thing.”

“Mmm,” he said with his characteristic hum. “Well, it wasn’t hypnosis. I can’t command you to obey my will.”

“But you could knock me unconscious.” She shuddered. “Is that how vampires slaked from humans hundreds of years ago, or whenever it was acceptable?”

“It was never acceptable,” Blaine said. The hiss was gone from his speech. “But you’re right, it was more widely practiced in the past. And yes.”

“Well, can’t you acclimate me, so I don’t react like that again and you can stop shielding me?”

Blaine’s chuckle wasn’t entirely friendly, but the animosity was not for her. “I’m not a wolf. You can’t acclimate to me.”

Five years of friendship with him, and she knew almost nothing about his apex nature. She suddenly felt like a substandard friend despite his gratitude toward her a few minutes ago. “How do you cope, having me around?”

He flashed his teeth. Yep, fangs retracted. “As I said, I’m not a wolf. It doesn’t drain me to conceal the parts of myself that humans find difficult.”

“Oh, well, that’s…good.” Before she could lose her nerve, she pounced on one thing she’d wanted to ask him for years. “How off are movies, really? Do vampires struggle with some kind of horrible thirst or addiction to blood or…or is it more like the way I drink water, like, ‘oh, I’m thirsty, I should take care of my body’?”

“Some humans can have a glass of wine with dinner, a beer with friends after work. Some humans can’t, because they won’t stop.”

She nodded.

“Well, there you are. Think of blood as a vampire’s alcohol.”

“Okay, but…except it’s not the same at all, because if you choose to abstain, you’ll waste away and die.”

“There’s the rub.” He smiled, but it was sad.

“So not every vampire struggles with control, but some do.”

“That’s right.”

“Do those vampires have a hard time not slaking from humans?”

“That’s rarer, but it can happen.”

“Do they have to stay away from humans entirely? Form a cloister of fellow blood-oholics?”

“You’re very inquisitive today,” he said.

“I’ll withdraw any question you put a boundary on, but until you do, I’m asking. I’ve wondered some of this stuff for years, Blaine. I just never knew if asking would offend you.”

“If you manage to come up with an offensive question, I’ll be surprised. As for this one—a vampire will occasionally isolate from humans, yes, if the thirst becomes too much. I don’t know anyone who’s had to do so permanently.”

“I really should’ve asked all this a long time ago. It’s basic stuff that makes you who you are.”

“You could have.”

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