Alistair’s eyes flicker from red to blue to red again, before slowly returning to blue. He stops struggling in my grip, sagging suddenly.
“Go,” he begs. “Both of you go.”
“Fuck that,” I say. “Tell us what’s wrong.”
“Thirsty,” he mutters.
“I got that part.” I try to sound teasing, but my voice comes out raspy instead. I’m more unnerved by Alistair’s gauntness than his aggression.
“I can’t keep blood down,” he says.
Luca runs to the fridge and sniffs the bags he finds there. “They smell fine. I can heat one up for you right now.”
“It won’t help.” My skin pebbles. Alistair sounds defeated. Completely hopeless.
“Do you need me to go pick some up for you?” Luca asks. “I’ve got a few packs at the Fang.”
I shake my head as my heart begins to race. This is taking too long. Alistair needs blood, and he needs blood now.
When Alistair opens his mouth to answer Luca, I shove my wrist between his lips.
He’s consumed my blood multiple times and had no problems. We don’t have time to argue about fucking expiration dates. My blood is fresh, and I’m stronger than he is. This is the best solution.
Since I was prepared for the sting of the bite, I’m able to hide any reaction to his fangs piercing my skin. For now, at least.
“For fuck’s sake, baby.” Luca slams the refrigerator door and rushes over to us. “This might be a bad idea. We don’t know what’s going on.”
I roll my eyes. It was a great idea. He would see that if he weren’t panicking. Already, Alistair looks better. The gray spiderweb veins are gone, and his skin is perking up like a plant growing toward the sun.
Moaning low in his throat, Alistair tugs me into his lap, and I let him. I’ll lecture myself about it later, but I need to feel his heartbeat against mine.
“Angel.” He breathes the word against the skin of my wrist, licking the puncture wounds, then kissing my fingers one by one.
I frown. “You need to take more. There’s no way that was enough.”
“I won’t take more from you,” he says, wincing. “Not tonight, at least. You need your strength.”
“And you don’t?” I demand.
Luca unbuttons his lightweight flannel shirt, determination burning in his hazel eyes. “She’s right, Ali. That was scary. If you won’t keep drinking from Celine, drink from me.”
Alistair glances at him, his eyebrows climbing high on his face before his gaze dips to Luca’s muscled, tan throat. “Are you sure?”
“Would I offer if I weren’t?” Luca bites his lip. “Fuck, just do it already.”
Alistair pulls Luca down on the couch and presses him into the leather cushions. Then he climbs on top of him, straddling his waist and dragging his lips up the side of Luca’s neck. I expect him to lunge, snap his fangs, and drive them into Luca’s skin.
But Alistair is back in control now . . .
“Last chance to back out,” he purrs.
“Not a chance. And I want the sexy one.” The words have barely left Luca’s lips when Alistair kisses down his neck and slowly sinks his fangs into the taut skin.
The moan that leaves Luca’s mouth is indecent.
I can’t look away. I don’t even want to blink.
Alistair’s hands tenderly cradle Luca’s jaw before one drops to the waist of his jeans.
