Chapter 12 #2
“I can’t because I’d never be able to tell them what I was. Who would want to date a vampire…a monster?” I shudder, thinking of Ethan. “No, thank you.”
Noah watches me calmly, obviously not struggling like I am. Probably because, lucky him, it’s not something he has to deal with.
“Tell me about your other pre-vamps,” I say. “What were they like?”
“My first was a thirty-two-year-old housewife. Heather picked it up during vacation in Mexico. She was pretty sick initially, but recovered without any issues. We got her regulated, and she and her husband had their third baby a year and a half later. I get Christmas cards from her every year—she and her family are fine.”
“And your second?”
“He was a doctor involved in a car accident. Both he and the other driver—a vampire—sustained injuries. While he was giving the other driver medical care, an open wound came in contact with the vampire’s blood.
It wasn’t a usual case and traumatic for everyone involved.
Laws for accidental transfer hadn’t been established, and it went to court.
The doctor requested all charges be dropped, and eventually they were, but it was a complicated process. ”
“Is the doctor okay?”
“He retired a few years ago. Last I heard, he and his wife had moved to Florida.”
“So, my situation, where I was intentionally infected and the vampire is staying in touch…how common is that?”
Noah’s expression goes solemn. “Not very common. Most often, people are infected by rogue vampires who go off their meds—wrong place, wrong time sort of deals. Occasionally, we see people who have consentingly been infected by a partner or spouse, but they usually lie low since transmission is illegal and they already know how to navigate the changes.” He softens his tone.
“But what happened to you was different. You were assaulted, and it sounds like the attack was premeditated. The courts punish these offenders severely. When we catch the man who did this to you—and I will catch him—he’s going to serve several life sentences. ”
I swallow, twisting a napkin in my hands. “And until then?”
A welcome smile tugs at his lips. “You might want to give me a key so I don’t have to bust through your door again.”
“Are all conservators as skilled at breaking and entering as you?”
“Only the ones who are demoted hunters.”
“Is that a lot of you?”
“That’s only me.”
“So…I got lucky.”
A fast, hot smirk flashes across his face. He schools it quickly, but his eyes shine. “I thought you said no flirting?”
Suddenly, I’m seeing the situation in a new light. Noah isn’t just my conservator—he’s a bodyguard. Which sounds infinitely hotter and way more dangerous.
“I wasn’t.”
“You sure about that?”
“Are all hunters this cocky?”
“Only the good ones.”
“And you’re good?”
He lifts a brow, his eyes snaring mine. “Oh, Piper, I am very good.”
“No. Flirting.”
“I’m just stating facts.”
“You’ve been friend-zoned—remember it.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
My stomach clenches, and my skin flushes with sudden warmth.
“We need to talk about sleeping arrangements,” he says.
I narrow my eyes. “I sleep here, and you sleep in your parents’ basement like the cool guy you are. Moving on.”
“You have two options. You either temporarily stay with your brother, or I’m moving in with you.”
“I barely know you,” I hiss in a whisper, like someone could overhear the conversation in my empty house.
“I’m not suggesting whatever is making your cheeks pink. This is a big house. I think it’s a safe bet you have a guest bedroom. You in your room and me in mine. Roommates.”
“No.” I cross my arms. “Not happening.”
“Piper, you have a vampire stalker, and you live alone. You don’t even have a dog.”
“I’ll get a dog. A great big one.”
“I’m your dog.”
I open my mouth and then laugh. “Too easy.”
“I’ll pay you room and board.”
My eyes sharpen on him. “How much?”
“A thousand a month.”
“For this house? In lovely Glenwood Springs, Colorado? Are you familiar with the current cost of living?”
“For a room.”
I need that money. “Twelve hundred.”
“A thousand, and I’ll go with you to your markets and whatnot.”
“You have to do that anyway, don’t you?”
He smirks, knowing he’s already won this. “Yeah, but I don’t have to pull your wagon.”
Unable to help myself, I grin. “Fine.”
With that decided, Noah picks up the bottle and swirls it in a circle again, mixing it and testing the consistency. Apparently deciding the blood is warm enough to pour, he goes through my cupboards until he finds a juice glass. “How many ounces?”
“One.”
“Do you want it straight?”
“I don’t want it at all,” I say like a sulky child.
He pours the blood into the cup, eyeballing the amount, probably knowing better than I do what one ounce of blood looks like.
“Drink up.” He sets it in front of me with a clink of the glass against the granite.
Synthetic blood looks way too much like the real thing. It’s scarlet red and thicker than chocolate syrup.
“Just toss it back like a shot,” he adds.
“I don’t drink.”
Noah rolls his eyes like I’m being difficult. “Then take it like cough syrup—just get it over with.”
I pick up the glass, staring at the blood. One ounce isn’t a lot. Surely I can manage it.
Steeling myself, I gulp it all at once, gagging as soon as it hits my mouth. And then I promptly run to the sink and spit it out, barely able to avoid retching.
After having witnessed that sexy display, Noah hands me several paper towels.
I wipe my mouth, desperately wishing he hadn’t been here for that.
“It’s a normal reaction,” he says nonchalantly.
I slump back to my barstool. “Normal?”
“You’ll get used to it. Next time, let’s try it in a—”
“If you say smoothie, I’m kicking you out of my house.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “We’ll mix it in some juice.”
I’m not sure that’s much better.
I glare at the prescription bottle. “Has anyone tried to find a cure?”
“Hundreds of scientists and several labs are dedicated to researching Vampiria B.”
“No luck yet?”
Noah shakes his head. “Not yet. We were fortunate to get the synthetic blood.”
I rest my cheek on the granite countertop, not sure I’m going to make it as a pre-vamp.
“Hey, cheer up,” he says. “I’ll make you a steak, and we’ll try again tonight.”
“It’s not even noon yet.”
He almost smiles. “I’ll fry some eggs on the side.”
Anything sounds better than blood.