Parting my lips, I breathed slowly through my mouth in an attempt to ease the ache in my fangs.
It didn’t help.
I could still smell vanilla. The apples and cinnamon had faded, at least.
Closing my eyes, I tried to sink into the cold tile.
It didn’t work.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t a power vampires possessed. We didn’t actually have any power. Just good senses and a little extra speed and strength.
More time passed. I wasn’t sure how much.
The chills set in slowly, and I started to tremble. Vaguely, I heard one of the men say my name. I couldn’t have replied if I wanted to.
The cold tile no longer felt nice, and my body was now physically incapable of warming it.
I wasn’t unconscious, but I wasn’t fully conscious, either.
The many lectures I’d received were right. Blood loss was horrible.
Multiple urgent growly male voices dragged me back to the land of the living. Someone else must’ve joined them.
I wasn’t aware enough to put voices to name, but I followed the conversation for the most part.
“What the fuck happened?”
“She said she hasn’t fed in a while.”
“She drained an entire human man this morning.”
“That’s not possible. Look at her. She’s starving.”
“Could she have thrown up the blood?”
“Vampires value blood more than humans or werewolves value food. None of them would try to expel blood after feeding.”
“What if she wasn’t sane?”
“She would have to cut herself. By the time all of the human’s blood left her system, she wouldn’t be able to heal the wounds at a magical speed.”
“If she drained the human, she’d still have deep cuts?”
“Yes.”
“So she didn’t drain him.”
“No.”
“You’re positive?”
“Yeah.”
“Fuck.”
“Should we feed her? Before her hunger kills her?”
“That’s a good question for the bastard who bit her.”
