Page 6 of Make Me Bleed

“No, thank you.”

She lets out a frustrated grunt. “Elise, drink.”

I shake my head.

“If this is about me burning you, I’ve got my fire opal necklace.” Bridget taps the hunk of orange crystal hanging over her chest with her free hand. “I’ve tested it with Conall. My blood is a normal temp when I’m wearing this.”

If only that was my main concern. True, the one and only time I attempted to feed from Bridget, it felt like I was drinking hot lava. I’d suspected that Bridge and Conall were fated mates even then, but since he hadn’t made any move to claim her, I thought it was okay to take a sip—until her fire magic sizzled my throat.

The nagging, consistent thirst is so bad lately, it would be worth the blisters running the length of my esophagus just to feel full. But challenging a lone wolf shifter by biting his mate?

I’m notthatdesperate.

I side-eye Conall, and Bridget catches me.

“Ignore Mr. Grump. Maybe if he realizes that his adorable little scowl isn’t doing anything to convince me to change my mind, he’ll give it up.”

“Red…” he rumbles softly, using his admittedly unimaginative name for the witch.

We both have red hair, though mine is a deeper shade and Bridget’s is a pretty copper-red, and he’s been calling her by that pet name ever since he stopped fooling himself that she was his. Bridge likes it, even if she does tease him with her own nickname for him, and that’s all that matters.

She smiles impishly at him. “What? I alreadytoldyou. Biting is only sexual when you do it. Not when I’m trying to keep mybest friend from starving to death.” Her nose wrinkles as she turns back to me. She draws her hand back. “Hang on. You’re an immortal vamp. Can that actually happen?”

Poor Bridget. Unlike Conall and me and everyone else in Dyea, she is a new supe. She had no idea that she had any magic at all until a witch hunter tried to capture her back in Clarity and it burst out of her in a show of fireworks and flames.

“No,” I assure her. “It’s… not pleasant, but I won’t die from thirst.”

Forget what you’ve learned fromBuffy the Vampire Slayerand other pop culture vampires. The only thing that can kill one of us is decapitation. A wooden stake to the heart won’t tickle, but I can heal that. Silver weakens supes, but even that’s survivable; Conall is proof of that since that witch hunter stabbed him all those weeks ago and he’s back to a hundred percent now. Thirst is uncomfortable. I won’t deny that. Still, I’ve made it three months so far.

And maybe the fourth delivery is the charm…

“That’s good to know,” Bridget says, the relief obvious. “I’m still worried about you, Elise.”

I know.

It’s not just my diet, either. After being stabbed, Conall recuperated in the house that I shared with Bridget. I knew they wouldn’t stay long. For one, a wolf shifter heals almost as quickly as a vampire. For another, the large bite on Bridget’s neck told me that Conall finally claimed her as his bonded mate.

I wasn’t surprised about that, either. Bridget didn’t really understand how powerful a mate bond could be—especially betweenfatedmates—but the second Conall actually spoke up and said she was his, I knew that the two would finalize their bond the first chance they got, especially since Bridge could deny her attraction to the rugged beast all she wanted, but I knew better. From the moment she stormed into the houseand slammed down the bottles of shampoo and conditioner she picked up at the commissary, complaining that Conall bought her the conditioner, she was a goner.

And then, after he was healed, shewasgone. She lives in Conall’s house at the far end of the sanctuary now, though she has an open invitation to visit me whenever she wants. I have the same at their place. We’re still friends, even if she’s now a mated witch with an overgrown wolf for a shadow.

No— no. That’s not fair of me. I’m happy that Bridget found her forever. I’ve been searching for mine for decades without any luck. In fact, one of the bonuses to relocating to Dyea is that I’m not only avoiding Peter. My parents have recently decided that, if I haven’t chosen a mate before my first century,theywill find one for me.

I want my beloved. I yearn for him. The one male whose blood sings for me, and who will make me bleed as he claims me with his bite during a vampire’s blood exchange. I was open to choosing a partner who suited me, that I couldmakemy beloved… but after seeing Bridget’s whirlwind of a romance with her fated mate, I have to admit that I wantthat.

I just… I want blood more—but not bad enough to trigger Conall’s possessive instincts by feeding on his mate.

“I’m—” I start to sayfine, but a born vampire can’t lie. Even turned vampires struggle to be deceitful in that way. Untruths lodge in our throat, never making it to our tongue, and I have to admit that I haven’t been fine in a long time. I swallow, then give my head a royal shake. “I’ll be okay. Thorn’s recent shipment should arrive any day now.”

“Mayor Lou knows to be on the look-out,” Conall cuts in, referencing the skunk shifter who is technically in charge of Dyea; ‘technically’ because I figured out almost instantly that Conall truly runs the show here.

Among the shifters, that is. The vampires are a whole other story…

“Have you checked in with Thorn?” asks Bridget. “Asked him if maybe he knows why they keep vanishing?”

I haven’t. Thorn Wilkins has been the leader of the Cadre in Clarity since before I was born. It doesn’t matter that I’m in Dyea. I’m still one of his, and if he discovers that I’m strugglingandthat the blood deliveries aren’t reaching me? My stay in Alaska will be over. He’ll order me back to Clarity, and I’ll have to go.

I don’t want to go. So Bridget doesn’t need me. So she’s happy with her mate, and I’m hoping that Peter finally gave up on me over the last three months. I’m not ready to return to Clarity. I can’t quite explain it, but I have this sense that Dyea isn’t done withmeyet.

---