Page 29 of Trapped By the Blood Ruby

“Henrietta couldn’t, obviously. Nor would she have.”

“But then⁠—“

“There is no one who can do this for you. One lick, one taste of your blood, even your scabbed skin, and there would be no stopping.”

“Oh.”

“Trust me, darling. Laurent isn’t leaving you like this just to prove a point.” A dark laugh bubbled up from my chest. I wasn’t so sure of that. “Yes, all right, I see your meaning.”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

She reached for fresh gauze. My bloodied discards were piled on the tray.

“No. I am old. Slips of control are beneath me. Besides, we’re friends, remember?”

I bit my lip, trying to keep a smile at bay.

When I was younger, I hadn’t had any real friends. Too many of my classmates scorned me for my worn and dirtied clothes or my lack of hygiene. Once I was on my own, those things changed, but I still didn’t allow myself get too close to anyone. Too many years had made me wary and shy. Ania had been the only person successful in breaking me out of my shell, which had taken months.

A knock sounded just as Zola gathered everything up. “Ah. That will be Vittorio with your breakfast. Come in,” she called, lifting her voice. “We’re finished.”

Vittorio strode in with another tray. I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with this level of attention. The motion had Zola lifting a brow in question.

Vittorio set the tray before me. I took a single look and—burst into tears.

“Oh, darling!” Zola set her tray on the carpet and reached over to pat my hair. Through my tears, I saw a wide-eyed and now uncomfortable expression on Vittorio’s face. “She does this a lot, Vit. Don’t take it personally.”

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I managed, furiously swiping at my face. “It’s just… He made… He made me cinnamon rolls. I didn’t think…”

“Miss Shaw said she wanted cinnamon rolls,” Vittorio defended, looking as if my tears were evidence of an awful act he’d committed and wished to absolve himself of.

“They’re perfect,” I said, voice watery, mastering myself. I really needed to stop this. I took a deep breath and determined never to cry again. Vittorio studied me. “Really, they are. They look amazing. And—“ I took in the whole tray. “Coffee, too? Okay, why do I want to hug you right now?”

I wasn’t usually a hugger. The opposite, actually. I’d never been cuddly with the few guys I’d dated. Ania had warmed me up to it. She and I hugged a lot. She must have realized how starved of touch I was. Once she got me hooked on them, I handed her hugs whenever the occasion called for it. And now, apparently, I was doing the same with vampires when they were nice to me.

Vittorio took several quick steps backwards.

“She likes to hug,” came Zola’s quiet warning, to which I snorted. Because really, I didn’t.

Vittorio merely looked mortified.

I burst into giggles, throwing a hand over my mouth. My emotions were all over the place.

“I think almost dying has made me unstable. You should both probably go. I’m unhinged. I might even hug you to death. Get it?”

Zola huffed, shaking her head. “That will be all, Vittorio. Thank you.”

“Yes, madame. Good day. Good day, Miss Shaw.”

When I next blinked, he was gone, and Zola was lifting her tray of my discarded gross things.

“I’ll be back in a bit. If you’re feeling up for it, I’ll give you a tour of the house. I’d take you shopping but, well, that bandage is a bit frightening.”

“That’s okay. Actually I think I’ll have a bath after breakfast. I’m feeling gross.”

“Of course, darling. I’ll be back afterward.”

I waited for her to go before cutting into my cinnamon roll. The frosting oozed into the swirled layers. I placed the first bite on my tongue and closed my eyes, groaning. Perfection.