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I gingerly take the glass, peering over into the blood like it’s some magic elixir. “Prost,” I say, cheersing in German. I take a sip and the moment the liquid hits my tongue I feel like another dimension has opened up inside my head. It immediately strokes the hunger inside me until it completely takes over and I finish the glass in one big gulp.
“Greedy girl, aren’t you?” Valtu surmises over his glass as he stares intently at me. “Guess you’re lucky you’re with someone who can provide.”
I don’t want to lose control or appear desperate, but the blood is coursing through my veins and making them sing. I want to beg him for more and I’m practically panting trying to keep myself in check.
But he notices. This is what he wants. Me to submit to him, to succumb to him, to beg for him in more ways than one. It’s all part of the power play.
“Look at you,” he says richly, his eyes flicking over my face. “How hard you try to hide it, to deny what you really are. Tell me, Rose, is your family a slave to these pills as well?”
I try to swallow, my mouth and throat feeling desert dry. “Every vampire is.”
“Not every vampire.” He raises his chin.
My eyes flick back to his glass which he still hasn’t finished. “We can’t all live in isolation. Murder is a thing you know. And the feeding rooms are hard to find. They definitely don’t exist where I’m from.”
“And where are you from? Answer some questions and I’ll let you have more blood.”
I pause, taking in a deep breath to steady myself, hoping I don’t fuck up. “Okay. I’m from Oregon.”
“That’s what the doctor said. Where in Oregon? I’ve spent some time on the west coast.”
“Newport?”
Valtu nods. “Fishing village. Big bridge. Bigger surf.”
I stare at him in surprise, totally forgetting about blood for the moment. “You’ve been?”
I had no idea that Valtu had been there. Then again, it’s been a long time.
“I’ve been around,” he says. His eyes narrow thoughtfully. “But of course, you haven’t lived there your whole life. Your parents would have to move a couple of times if they don’t want the humans to get suspicious.”
“That we did.” I motion for the glass.
He keeps it closer to him. “Siblings?”
“A brother,” I say. “Older but he hasn’t turned. You?”
He blinks at me in surprise. “Me? Do I have any siblings?” He has a sip of his wine. “I was adopted but had a brother, briefly, but he died when he was very young. You know how things were back then, especially before turning.”
“Well I wouldn’t, because I wasn’t alive back then,” I say, even though it’s a lie. Because I was alive back then too.
He takes a step closer and hands out the glass. “Are you sure? Because sometimes when I look at you, I see an old soul.”
I eagerly take his glass from him. “They say that’s just a trauma response.” I tip the glass back and let the blood flow down my throat, swallowing it all down greedily. My god, it’s almost as good as sex.
“A trauma response?” Valtu says with an air of disbelief.
“Yeah,” I say, wiping my mouth. “They say when you meet someone who you’d call an old soul, it usually means you’re just seeing the trauma from them having to live through shit and grow up fast.”
“And who isthey?”
“The internet,” I tell him, then glance around the dark medieval looking room. “Though I guess you don’t get a lot of that here. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the lack of internet helped you become a well-rounded individual.”
He lets out a dry laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Then I’m glad you know better.”
I’m about to laugh too but then the hair on the back of my neck stiffens and I feel a cold draft pushing at my back. It’s not the alpine winds blowing in through a window though, it’s a cold that comes from the depths of some place dark and evil and cosmic.
Valtu’s expression darkens as he spots something over my shoulder. I have no doubt it’s the bad thing, coming to pay us a visit.
