15. Rose #2
“Whatever you want,” he says, walking toward the stairs. “Food. Blood.”
He goes down them and I take that as a sign he wants me to follow him.
I get up, my legs feeling a little unsteady, and go after him down the stairs to the lower level.
“When’s the last time you drank?” he asks, heading to the fridge.
“The other night,” I answer, knowing I have to be careful what I say.
“Were you with the doctor?” He opens the fridge door and starts placing things out on the counter.
Shit. I can’t remember what day I was supposed to arrive in “Oxford” and I’m not sure what Abe told him.
“I wasn’t,” I say, praying it’s the right thing. “I fed before I went to his lab.”
“Pills, I’m assuming,” he muses, taking out several steel bottles.
“No,” I say. “I fed from a live human. At a feeding room. In London.”
He chuckles and closes the fridge door, then looks over at me with his brow cocked.
“Uh huh. I’m sure you, brand new baby vampire, could not only find a feeding room in London, but actually sink her teeth into a fucking live human being.
” He gives his head a shake, though he looks amused.
“There’s no use putting up pretenses at this point, though I guess I’m flattered you’re trying to impress me. ”
I open my mouth to protest, then close it. Because I am lying about the being in London part. I want to tell him that I did feed from Michael, but unless I mentioned Solon and Lenore, there’s no way he’d believe me.
I shrug one shoulder. “Can’t blame me for trying.”
He grins at that, looking boyish instead of brooding for once. “I’d prefer it if you tried to impress me in other ways.”
“Are you saying I haven’t been impressive so far?”
He lets out a small laugh and directs his attention to the steel bottle which he uncorks. “No, you have. You very much have.” He raises the bottle. “I have fresh blood here.” He waves dismissively. “Enough with the pills. That’s no way to live a life.”
Even though I did just feed, I have a hard time turning down what he’s offering. Just the idea of drinking blood instead of swallowing a pill has my stomach churning hungrily, a deep addiction stirring inside me.
I watch as he pours the liquid into two goblets and I don’t think I’ve ever felt as much of a vampire as I do right now. Drinking blood out of goblets with Dracula in his mountain lair? Suddenly this is my reality.
Valtu’s always been your reality , I remind myself.
“Here,” he says, walking over to me and holding out the glass. “To your health.”
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 is they ?”
“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.
I keep my eyes focused on the floor. “It’s behind me, isn’t it?” I whisper.
“It is,” Valtu says carefully, his voice equally low. “But it’s just looking at you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was infatuated with you.”
“It’s always the ones you’re not interested in,” I say as a joke, though he doesn’t know how painfully true that actually is for me.
Then the cold horror at my back disappears, the energy in the room lifting, and Valtu visibly relaxes.
“It’s moved on,” Valtu says with a huff of relief.
I wish I could be as relaxed. I’m not sure I can when I’m reminded the bad thing exists. “Moved on where? Do you know? Where did it come from?”
“So many questions,” he says, taking the glasses and bringing them over to the sink.
“And worthwhile questions,” I point out. “If I’m going to be living here, I think I deserve to know what I’m dealing with.”
Valtu suddenly tenses, his back to me, and he lowers his head for a moment before turning around and leaning back against the counter, his arms folded across his chest, a piece of his black hair flopping over his forehead. “You think you’re living here?”
I rub my lips together, not sure what to say.
“You’re not living here, Rose,” he adds, his tone unkind. “You’re just staying here. And not for long either. You might be a damn good fuck, but I’ll get bored of you sooner rather than later.”
It’s like a shotgun blast to the fucking chest.
I swallow painfully and raise my chin, pretending that this isn’t a surprise, that it doesn’t bother me. “Of course,” I tell him. “Whatever you’d like.”
“Whatever you’d like, my lord,” he corrects me.
“Whatever you’d like, my lord,” I tell him.
Though I feel whatever he’d like involves breaking my heart over and over again.