“Allow me.” Seeing her predicament, Dorian plucked a strawberry from the bowl and leaned forward, slipping it between Charley’s lips, watching intently as she bit into it. A trickle of sweet, red juice ran down her chin, and Dorian caught it with his thumb, then popped the rest of the berry into his own mouth. “Hmm. I could eat breakfast with you all day, love.”
“Could you?” She glanced down at the plate as more questions bubbled up inside. “Seriously? Because I thought vampires drank blood for breakfast.”
His smile faltered, and he leaned back in his chair, reaching for the coffee. “We drink blood to survive, but eating regular food is part of what allows us to hold onto our humanity.”
“What happens if you skip the O-positive andjusteat regular food?”
He met her gaze across the table, his eyes cold and severe. “It’s not a pretty sight, Charlotte.”
“Tell me,” she demanded.
“We’re eating breakfast.”
“I want to know.”
Dorian set down his coffee mug, impatience tightening his jaw. “Without regular ingestion of human blood, a vampire will lose all trace of his humanity, physical and otherwise. He’ll revert to his natural monstrous state—a pale, mindless, physically-deformednightmarewho exists only to hunt, to fuck, and to feed on whatever helpless creatures cross his path. He retreats to caves and tunnels, as sunlight blisters his skin so horribly, it exposes the muscle and bone beneath. Eventually, over many years, he will decompose, alive and conscious till the bitter end.”
The strawberry turned to lead in her stomach, and Charley lowered her eyes.
The awkwardness crept back in between them, a thousand new questions burning through her mind like wildfire. There was so much she wanted to know—about vampires, about his family, about Dorian himself—but every time she opened her mouth to ask another question, her words turned to ash.
It was crazy. All of it. And it wasn’t her world. She shouldn’t have gotten a singleglimpse, let alone an up-close-and-personal tour.
But she had.
Charley took a few more bites, but despite her grumbling stomach, she couldn’t eat.
Setting down her fork, she said, “I think it’s probably best if I head out.”
“You want to eat in the gardens? I can bring everything—”
“No, Dorian. I want to go home.”
“Now? But you’d planned to stay the weekend. I haven’t even told you about the art you asked after, and despite my best efforts to scare you off…” He offered a small smile, breaking through some of the tension. “…it’s clear you have questions about other things as well.”
“You mean about mindless vampires and werewolves and bogeymen?” Charley rolled her eyes, waiting for him to tell her she’d seen too many movies.
But Dorian said nothing.
“Arethere other supernatural beings?” she asked. “Not just vampires?”
He speared a bite of waffle with his fork and shrugged. “I thought you wanted to go home.”
“I don’t knowwhatI want anymore. That’s the problem.” She rubbed her eyes, her resolve weakening. Curiosity was definitely winning out—not just about the stolen artwork, but about the whole new world Dorian had opened up. With a single glance, he’d smashed through the lid on Pandora’s Box, and now that those demons had escaped, there was no putting them back inside.
“Wait… what about demons?” She looked up at him again, her heart sputtering.
“You’ve got questions, I’ve got answers.” Dorian’s mouth curved into a smug, sexy smile. “Perhaps I can tempt you with another deal.”
Charley shook her head, but she was already smiling again too. “State your terms, Mr. Redthorne.”
“I’ll allow you to return to the city this afternoon, if you’ll allowmeto take you on a brief detour first.”
“Where?”
“A place I think you’ll love. It’s not far.”
“Hmm. So you can murder me and drink my blood?”
