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A pint of…? The only liquid Max could possibly think of was blood, which…surely not. Most vampires were cagey about sharing blood. They didn’t do it unless the situation demanded it. Vampire blood could cure a lot—blood disorders, cancers, tumors, to name a few.
The hell?
Max followed them, avidly listening to every word of their conversation. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around this. Was Zander just generous by nature? Maybe his behavior toward Max wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, if that was the case.
Bemused at this whole situation, Max watched as Zander was taken to the lab and set up for a blood draw. While blood flowed out of him and into a bag, he completed paperwork with his other hand, signing off on things and handing over his credit card to pay. He encouraged Max to come sign where necessary. Max did, mostly because he couldn’t figure out how to stop this madman.
Nurse Raquel bustled off with all the paperwork, leaving Zander still hooked up and steadily pouring blood. Max looked at the blood bag, still puzzled. None of this behavior matched what he knew of vampires.
In the end, he had to ask. “You donate blood regularly here?”
“About once a month,” Zander confirmed. “It doesn’t take much, either.”
“No,” the nurse who was monitoring the blood draw agreed. “It doesn’t. A single syringe of vampire blood can cure most ailments. It’s why him coming in is so lifesaving for our patients. We can cure dozens of people with a pint of vampire blood. The terminal patients, the ones modern medicine can’t help, walk out of here healthy because of it.”
Then the nurse tacked on casually, “Mr. Zander’s blood is more powerful than most, so it goes even further.”
Why was Zander’s blood more powerful? Max knew vampires had their own ranking, their own structure in society, but he didn’t know all the ins and outs. He just knew some were recognized as being above others. Max had assumed it was due to age, but that was just an assumption. Was Zander older? You couldn’t look at a vampire and begin to guess age. They physically stopped aging once turned. Zander could be the twenty-five-year-old he looked, or five hundred. His dad being alive didn’t help, because as far as Max knew, his father was a vampire too.
“There, that should do it.” The nurse clamped the line, then put gauze against the needle and slid it free, stopping the blood flow. When she lifted the gauze, the small puncture wound had already healed. A vampire’s healing factor was insanely fast.
“Thank you, Nurse.” Zander rolled his sleeve back down to button it. To Max, he said, “It’ll take them a few hours to move your father into his new room, situate things. Why don’t we go to your school and straighten things out before coming back? I know you’ll want to sit with him a while before visiting hours are over.”
He did, yes. Max didn’t feel right unless he checked in on his father at least once a day. That said, “What can I say to convince you that I don’t need to be in school this semester?”
Zander stood and patted Max’s hand, grinning down at him. “You’re adorable.”
Not a damned thing. Got it.
Chapter 4
Zander had picked up on a few things last night while helping Max move. One, Max liked plants. The seven house plants they’d moved out of his apartment were a good indication, but he’d also had two full boxes with books on horticulture. Not to mention the garden “Pinterest” board he’d taken off a wall.
After a taxing day it was obvious where their first official outing should be. He wanted to earn Max’s trust while getting him to unwind, so an unofficial date seemed the best tactic.
The Rommani Garden spanned several acres of cultivated land, interspersed with a river, small waterfalls, shaded benches, and a million types of plants—all beautifully kept. It was open to the public and had an outdoor café toward the end of the walk for hungry tourists. Fifteen minutes of online research had told Zander this would be a good choice.
One look at Max’s face upon arrival confirmed it. His cynical nineteen-year-old college student had disappeared somewhere upon arrival. In his stead was a five-year-old who had just been taken to the best candy shop ever.
Zander had a feeling he had just earned the ranking of best master/benefactor in the world.
The second they exited the car, Max gravitated toward the front entrance. “Zander. How did you know about this place? It’s stunning and we’re not even inside yet.”
“Google.” Zander smiled down at him. “Let’s walk in. I assume you want to take pictures.”
“All the pictures,” Max confirmed. Then practically raced inside.
Zander was along for the ride as they walked. Max oscillated between trying to act reserved to being only a step above a child hyped up on sugar. He bounced between one interesting plant and the next, pausing only to take pictures of absolutely everything. He’d fill up his phone’s memory at this rate.
Zander couldn’t throw stones at that glass house since he was busy taking pictures of the one taking pictures, so… In his defense, Max was unbearably cute just then. He was giddy. Who knew Max could be giddy?
He also looked strangely…satisfied? Content? Max carried himself with a certain amount of tension, like he was on guard. Not in here. Being in nature had disarmed the part of him that was wary of the world. Zander hadn’t even realized how bad that tension was until he saw its absence. Being here might be fun for Max, but he’d clearly needed it as well.
They weren’t even halfway through the garden when Zander made a decision: Max needed his own garden. At the very least, a large greenhouse.
It was a humid August day, and while the garden was shaded with all the trees, he worried Max might overheat at some point. Zander paused them at a bench shaded by a mesquite tree, wanting Max to sit and rest for a second.
Max sat but his eyes focused on the river flowing nearby. “It’s so incredibly peaceful here.”
