Page 60 of The Temptation of Roan Island

Pippa turned to look at me, as if for reinforcement, only I was equally perplexed.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Certain.” Her voice was a notch more intense. “She came in with a bag and a syringe and said Noah was too busy to do it.”

“I wouldn’t ask her to do something like that,” Noah insisted. “You there,” he called to a servant near the door. One of the fresh-faced footmen stepped forward. “Would you please fetch Mrs. Darning?”

The man gave a quick bow and darted away.

“My nightgown,” Pippa said. “There was blood on my nightgown.”

I squeezed my hands into fists at the mention of Pippa’s blood. Fuck me. The taste of her had been so much better than I thought it would be, and I wanted more. Someone else accessing her blood made me irrationally angry.

My gaze tracked Pippa as she left the room.

“Has venom ever given hallucinations before?” Ruby asked.

“No. It can make people less aware of what’s going on, a bit more forgetful, suggestive, but not hallucinate.”

“Are hallucinations a symptom of the disease?” I asked, unsure if I wanted the answer.

Noah rubbed his chin and glanced over at his black medical bag near the door. “I wouldn’t think so, and I haven’t heard of hallucinations being tied to Vastatio. But the disease is still fairly new.”

An uneasy feeling disturbed my stomach, and I pushed away what little I had on my plate.

A few minutes later, Pippa returned, her face pale from the exertion.

“Did you find it?”

“My laundry was already taken.” She collapsed into a chair at the table just as Mrs. Darning walked into the breakfast room.

“Noah?” Bored indifference coated her words. She stood in her usual, severe black dress, her silver-streaked hair in a tight bun that complemented her attire.

“Did you draw Miss Willoughby’s blood last night?”

Her gaze jumped to Pippa. “Why would I do such a thing?” A flicker behind her eyes gave me pause before she turned back to Noah. “I don’t even know how.”

“She had a brown bag,” Pippa said weakly, her head in her hands.

“Perhaps she’s just too ill to remember things clearly.”

Pippa looked up, staring daggers at Mrs. Darning. “I’m right here. I know what I experienced.”

As I watch Pippa moan over the side of the boat, I’m inclined to believe her.

Pippa isn’t a liar. And I’ve never fully trusted Darning. The question is, why would she take Pippa’s blood?

A pop blasts from the smokestack. I turn my gaze to the sky. It’s going to rain soon. Pippa will need to get out of the cold.

I lift my hand, intent on rubbing her back, but stop myself. She’s been keeping her distance, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. But, goddess, I want to touch her. I could make her feel better, alleviate her nausea with some venom to replace the sensations with another. But I don’t think that’s what she wants. Besides, there’s nowhere private to retire. No one beyond the shores of the island should know what I am. That could put everyone in danger. And I don’t want anyone seeing Pippa in my thrall, seeing how beautiful she looks and sounds when she experiences pleasure.

I swallow down those memories. I shouldn’t even have them.

What I said to Pippa last night wasn’t a lie. Biting her meant something. That first tang of her blood nearly brought me to my knees. Her tart lemon scent was nothing to the mouthwatering perfection of her taste. Sweet and strong. I expected the foulness of her illness to taint it, but there was a purity to the thickness that coated my tongue. It was only after I stopped drinking that I found the bitterness of the disease in the aftertaste. It made me want to chase it away by drinking more.

But it wasn’t just the taste of her that had me wanting our time together to last. It was her. The little moans she made, the eager way she begged, the beautiful way she trusted me. I didn’t just want her blood. I wanted all of her.

And it terrified me.