Page 48 of Nightshade

And he’d found rats, apparently. Or mice, or voles or something.

Gross.

I wondered if I was able to produce enough blood to keep Altair fed all by myself, because I didn’t like the idea of him having to feed on rodents. And obviously, the notion of him feeding on other people was even worse. Pathetic that I was jealous of the very thought, but . . . well, I sure wasn’t going to tell them all that.

Mama turned around, waving us all at the table. “Go, sit. You all need to eat.” She met my eye as she pushed half the eggs she’d been scrambling onto the plate in front of me, but thankfully, she refrained from saying what she was obviously thinking. That I needed extra because I’d fed Altair.

But . . . but that was fine, right? Instead of feeding Altair food, we fed me his share, and he got it out of me in his own way. It seemed perfectly reasonable and not at all sinister to me.

Viktor had actually gone quiet, thinking, and Aleks looked at me as he sat. “There are no rats in Mama’s house, Leo.”

Viktor dropped his fork on his plate, and I glared at Aleks.

“Everyone has to eat,” Mama said, and I could have kissed her. Even more when she continued. “Clearly, Altair is not starving, and your brother is in good health. If that changes, then we would act. But now? What would you do? Tell Altair he must starve? Simply because we do not approve of his diet does not make him bad.”

Viktor sighed, and the fork, where he’d picked it back up, made a strange squeaking sound from the way he was gripping it far too tight.

“How many vampires have you known?” I asked him, deciding to try to skirt the line of the things we didn’t talk about.

He looked over at me, eyes narrowing, but nodded after a moment. “One. Two now, I suppose.”

“And Mama was right, if we all judged werewolves on Grant, we would all think wolves were monsters. So maybe the one you met was a monster. Shouldn’t we give Altair the chance to prove he’s not like that vampire?”

“He’s bitten you,” he spat, his jaw clenching.

I put my own fork down and held my wrist out to him. “He has. Here. Does it look any worse for wear to you? I’m not a fucking child, Viktor. I know how to take care of myself. And I promised Altair I wouldn’t let him hurt me.”

Aleks’s eyes went wide, and Viktor froze in place.

Shit, had that been too much? Was the fact that Altair had implied imperfect control over himself going to be the last straw that made my brother see red and refuse to listen?

Instead of rushing upstairs to throw open the shutter, Viktor took a deep breath, slowly let it out, and then met my eye. “He asked you that?”

“Last night,” I agreed. “I think you bringing up vampires who were monsters made him think of someone he must have known. Made him worry. I”—I lowered my voice, like speaking quietly could make the betrayal of private conversations less immense—“I know he’s been running from the one who made him for years. I don’t know how many other vampires he’s known. I don’t know how many there are, or if it turns out they’re common, or . . . I don’t know anything, and to be honest, I don’t know if he knows much more. I just know he took me out to look for those flowers to help Henry yesterday, and he seemed pleased at the idea of having a pack. Maybe overwhelmed, but hopeful. He wants to be something other than a monster. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

I only realized how caught up I’d let myself get when I felt a tear slide down my cheek, and Mama reached over to squeeze my hand.

“Yes, solnyshko. It does.”

And for the first time, Viktor didn’t disagree and point out something awful about vampires instead.

CHAPTER 24

Altair

The bed was colder without Leo in it, but even after he left, it smelled like him. I could stretch out my hand and spread my fingers and remember how he’d let me press his broad palms flat to the sheets.

He had let me do precisely as I liked with him. He hadn’t pressed, hadn’t demanded.

He’d struggled to stay quiet, but honestly? That was sweet.

He’d wanted me even though it was a horrible idea and would test the patience of everyone who loved him.

More the fool was I, that I wanted him again.

Heavens, I’d settle for having him there beside me. Stretching out next to him was the closest thing I could remember to basking in the sun.

But that was a dangerous impulse, and I could spend the day without him. It wouldn’t hurt either one of us, no matter how I liked having him close.