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“Yes.”
“I didn’t think… I thought…” He was stumbling over his words by trying to form two different thoughts at the same time.
“Best not to think. Concentrate on obeying.”
Maddox was always so impenetrably calm. In this moment it did much to calm Will in turn. The worst was probably over, and if there were worse things to come there wasn’t much he could do about that.
“I could have explained this all to you with words, but you wouldn’t have understood, not really. You would have questioned it; you would have called it madness. You would have argued and rebelled. Now you have felt both my flesh and fangs inside you, you understand things no words could ever explain. Don’t you.”
Fucking hell. The worst thing about this was how right Maddox was about all of this.
“You are hungry,” Maddox said as if it were a certainty.
“Yes.”
“You will find yourself more hungry after I have fed,” Maddox says. “And more in need of rest.”
Will winced.
“This is why I’m here? To be your fuckin’ cheeseburger?”
Maddox gave him a look which cut William to his core. It was enough to make him briefly freeze and deeply reconsider the wisdom of giving this creature shit. Prison habits were dying hard in him. He was used to the answer always being telling the other guy to go fuck himself, no matter what had just happened. In prison, being resistant meant surviving. It meant being strong. Here, he had no fucking idea what the rules were.
“You are food,” Maddox said with an obvious attempt at patience. “But you are more than that. I could feed on any beast of blood and mind, but you have a greater purpose.”
“I do?”
Maddox laughed with great amusement at Will’s astonishment.
“You do,” he said with a smirking smile. “Though you may not believe it yourself. First, I will feed you. Come with me.”
“Wouldn't have thought a vampire would need a kitchen,” Will commented. He was sitting on a stool on the opposite side of the vast island while on the other side Maddox laid into various edible entities with an enthusiastic knife. The refrigerator was well stocked with a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables, and delicacies from countries William could not have pronounced if he tried. Mads’ spice rack was not a shelf, it was a floor to ceiling museum of flavor, from which he plucked small bags and little glass jars.
“I remember what it was to eat,” Maddox replied. “I was a good cook when I still ate. I have kept the skills up. Though I cannot enjoy food, many of those whose company I keep must consume these stuffs. I take satisfaction in watching what I make being enjoyed. Besides, having a home built without installing a kitchen is incredibly bad for resale value.”
A flash of fire leaped from the pan Mad had just put on the heat and splashed a little oil into. It was very dramatic. For a second, Will felt like he was in one of those fancy restaurants where the chef turns the meal into a performance. He’d been eating processed prison food for year. Most days his meals were comprised of boiled noodles and traded flavors. Occasionally he’d brave the cafeteria for whatever they considered to be protein and vegetables, but the food was rarely fresh enough to eat and usually coated in grease.
He had the feeling that Maddox would never serve anything but the best. Coming to terms with the man being a creature was hard. As he worked with food, he looked more human than ever. Just a man, a fancy man — who could fucking kill you with his teeth.
He barely paid attention to the preparations being made. The food, hungry as he was, was irrelevant compared to Maddox himself. Will had learned to get to know his enemy. You had to know someone’s weaknesses. In prison, that was who they had a beef with, any previous injuries, issues with guards, outside influence. In here, it was the physical being of the creature himself.
From Maddox’s fingers to his shoulders, his chest, his torso… this was a man elegantly constructed by nature. At first, Will had thought him too lanky to be strong. In his experience, men built like tanks were the most dangerous. But as a vampire, yes. Fucking vampire, Maddox had more strength than Will could imagine.
In rapid restaurant-quick time, Will’s meal was plated and presented to him.
“What is it?”
“ Pan-seared Alaskan salmon and lemon rice with braised asparagus.”
“Wow,” Will said, picking up the proffered fork. It was heavy in his hand, a mark of quality. This was the first time he had eaten anything without a plastic utensil in longer than he could remember. He was all too accustomed to yellowed tines breaking off in suspicious meat masquerades. This was an altogether different experience.
He went for the fish first, then scooped up what rice he could onto the same fork, following it with a hastily stabbed asparagus head. The entire load was delivered to his waiting maw with eagerness. He was fucking hungry.
It was harder to swallow than he expected. It wasn't that it didn’t taste good. It was more that it didn’t compute. It tasted like food he should not be allowed to eat. This was food they served to rich people in expensive restaurants. It was not food that creatures like Will ate. It all tasted so rich and so fresh and so overwhelmingly complex in terms of flavor and texture he found himself nibbling at it rather than wolfing it.
“Is there something wrong with it? Not to your taste?” Maddox’s disappointment was palpable.
“No. It’s really good. It’s too good. I’m used to prison food. You don’t have any toaster tarts, do you?”
