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"You seem very concerned about my anemia," I remarked as I made my way over to take my pill and a few of the pumpkin seeds, even though I wasn't a fan of the taste.
"Not going through all of this for you to die young anyway."
"I'm pretty sure almost no one dies of this kind of anemia," I told him.
"Well, we're not taking chances," he said, shrugging.
"It should get better now, too, that no one is, you know, feeding on me."
"Will you gain weight too?" he asked, looking me over.
"I... the weight loss wasn't really about the anemia. I just haven't had much of an appetite."
"Since Davor?"
"Around there, yes," I agreed. "Do these people... do they know, you know, what you are?"
"No," he said, tucking away the pills and the seeds when I couldn't choke any more of them down, then stashing the bag as far under the bed as possible so no one could see it. My drugs were in there. But more so than that, there was a lot of cash too. "Most humans are walking around blissfully unaware of all of us unsavories they're brushing shoulders with."
I'd been blindsided, that was for sure.
"Do you think that is how it should be?"
To that, he let out a snort. "Humans, you're a panicky lot," he said, smirking. "You hear there's a minor snowstorm coming and you wipe out all the bread and milk on the shelves. Can you imagine what your fellow humans would do if they learned tomorrow that all those bad guys from books and movies and TV are real? They'd blow up the whole fucking world in their hysteria."
I wanted to object to that. You know, for my kind and all. But I really couldn't find a flaw in his argument.
"So we should all just be clueless prey?"
"Not all of us feast on you," he said. "Well, not in that way anyway," he clarified, touching the very tip of his tongue to the side of his lips like he could still taste me there.
God, that tongue.
I was pretty sure with that thing and the way he worked it, I saw through time and space for a moment. I died and was reborn. I met the baby Jesus and all that jazz.
That was how amazing that thing was.
Before him, I thought I'd experienced great sex. I was wrong. And we didn't even have sex. Not technically.
"Come on. I need a drink. You need food," he said, waving toward the upstairs. "You know, unless you need more... medicine," he said with that devilish grin of his.
I didn't want to like that as much as I did, but I couldn't seem to help it.
And it took every ounce of self-preservation in me not to beg for more medicine if he was willing to give it to me.
But that being said, I couldn't just keep accepting that, right? Eventually he would want reciprocation. Or more. And I didn't want to do that.
Or, maybe it was more accurate to say I didn't want to want to do that.
Because I'd spent an inordinate chunk of the ride to the clubhouse thinking about Drex. About his tongue, his fingers, his hands, his cock.
It made no sense.
I barely knew the man.
He was a demon.
He was evil.
The last time I'd spent any time with evil creatures, I'd signed my life away to them.
Look how that turned out.
I had to be dragged across the country and stuffed with drugs just to be able to hopefully break the enthrallment without losing my sanity.
I needed to, you know, do better. Choose better. Stop being attracted to evil men.
No matter how sexy they decided to be.
"You can put it away," Bat said a while later, dropping down on a backward chair at the table, holding a bottle of beer in one hand. "He forget to feed you?" he asked.
"I have only known Drex a couple days," I told him, shoveling more food into my mouth.
I wasn't sure what I expected of bikers and their culinary skills, but these guys managed to surprise me. There was the steak and burgers I'd been expecting. But there was also grilled corn on the cob, bacon-wrapped asparagus, and roasted potatoes. And the potatoes were seasoned and everything. I was impressed. I was also suddenly ravenous.
"Must be something special," Bat said, nodding.
"Why's that?"
"Because that man racks up more women than half this club combined."
"Including you?" I asked, watching the light dance in his eyes. He was good-looking and he knew it.
"Well, maybe not including me," he said. "Of course, he likes certain shit with women. Well, you know," he said, brow lifting.
Right.
That was right.
He'd been at Sanctuary. Which meant he likely had a kinky side.
I guess that made sense, if you thought about it. Given his background. Given what he was. He'd spent who-knew how long torturing people in hell. It must have been a hard habit to kick. But, of course, he couldn't do that in the human world. He'd have been locked up. Then there would have been the whole not aging issue.
