Page 52 of B Negative

No. Was that it? Could B have found his mate despite his made status? “Yeah, that’s what I mean,” I covered.

“Are you ready to move on from drinking from a cup?” he asked.

No? Probably not. Definitely not. “Devon, I just don’t trust myself. The only one I have ever drank from and not drained is my mate. And I don’t want to risk your life.”

Devon nodded. “I thought you might say that.” He rose and took a glass from the bar. “But you might like to know, I was granted special permission because of your predicament.”

I eyed the wrist he had poised over the glass. He hadn’t opened himself yet, he simply held his hand above the glass as he returned to me.

“Special permission to do what?” I asked, taking the empty glass he offered.

He pulled a small knife from his pocket, extending the finely honed silver blade from the embellished handle. It was so elegant, so beautifully made, it looked almost ceremonial. He touched the tip to his wrist, and a single bead of blood emerged.

“To ingest the same quantity of vampire blood that the child donors do.”

My mouth watered at the sight of that ruby red drop. My fangs descended, and for the first time ever, I felt the veins at my temples go black. A strange sensation, like a tiny thread being pulled beneath my skin.

“So, if I were to lose control, you could fight me off. Is that what you’re saying?” With effort, I dragged my eyes up to meet Devon’s.

“I could,” he said with that smile of his still firmly in place.

My breath came in shallow, short puffs as I caught sight of the fluttering pulse in Devon’s neck. That quick little bird-in-flight rhythm that shouted to me to taste it, to catch it, and make it slow until just the faintest whisper of a pulse remained.

“Devon, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Sure, Eden, I understand. I can bleed into a cup for you. But you’ll never get over your bloodlust issues and start believing in yourself if you keep drinking out of a damn sippy cup like a toddler.”

He stood close, wrist closer to my mouth than the cup. “I won’t let you hurt me.”

I shot a quick look at B and Sherrie, both still lightly snoring in each other’s arms.

“All right. But let’s go back to the entrance in case something happens. I don’t want to wake them.” Or have Devon throw me on top of them and see exactly what B had going on under those covers.

Blech.

No, thank you.

We sat in the same spot he’d fed Sunny, and he held out his arm. I took it in both hands, just like I had the first day I met him, and held it to my lips. The broad side of my fangs dragged across Devon’s skin, and I shivered with excitement at the sensation. My nips hardened despite only having platonic feelings toward Devon, because for vampires, blood and sex were so closely tied. Hunger, need, desire, they were all such similar feelings.

“This is who you are, Eden. Remember it.”

I swallowed the fresh flood of saliva and sank my fangs into his wrist, carefully avoiding the tendons and sinew. My eyes rolled back and I couldn’t help groaning. Putting my fangs into flesh had to be the closest thing to putting a dick in a cooch that I’d ever experience. Blood trickled into my mouth and I lapped it up, aware that every lash of my tongue was another half an ounce of blood or so.

I groaned again as Devon flexed, coaxing more blood to rush into my mouth, but I also lost count of how many approximate ounces I’d taken in.

I focused on his pulse, still rapid and strong, and that had to be a good thing, right?

“There you go. You’re doing just fine, Eden. Pull back a little.”

I heard his voice, though it seemed far away. I heard his words, but they made no sense. Why would I ever stop doing this? Why would I stop feeding, drinking this delicious life blood?

“Eden, let me go.”

That was closer. A bit sharper sounding. It didn’t fit nice in my head.

Ow.

Another ow.

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