Andre brought me to the kitchen and asked one of the servants to whip up something for me to eat.
“Which would you prefer—” Andre said, placing his hands on my hips and maneuvering me next to the counter, “to drink blood straight from the source or from a bag?”
I cringed, but even as I did so, my canines descended. Seemed like I no longer craved just food.
Ew.
I mulled his request over. The thought of tapping into a live vein seriously turned me on, and that seemed wrong.
“Um, blood bag.” I’d save nipping someone’s neck for later.
Andre called one of his servants back over to prepare us both a glass of blood as well as a plate of pasta for me.
“What about you?” I asked once the servant left. “What’s your preference?” I hadn’t fully thought through that question until I asked it.
Visions of Andre pulling some scantily clad woman onto his lap and tapping into her jugular filled my mind. I remembered how good it felt to drink from another—and how good it felt to get bitten. Surely something like that would lead to other, more carnal acts. The possibility killed me.
“I’ve always preferred my meals living,” he said, only confirming my fears.
I glanced away. How would I come to terms with this aspect of ourselves?
Two of Andre’s fingers touched my chin. “But,” he said, tipping my head back to face him, “I will relinquish live feedings for as long as it makes you uncomfortable.”
My gaze darted back to Andre. “What if I’m never comfortable with it?”
“Then I will come to enjoy the taste of packaged blood.”
I furrowed my brow. “You’d do that?”
“For you, anything.” He smiled. It faded a second later. “There is, however, a chance that in the upcoming days neither of us will get a choice in the matter.”
If we were hunted. I desperately hoped I wouldn’t need blood that badly. As it was, I was barely coming to terms with the fact that I needed to drink it at all.
“We will prevent that the best we can.” A statement Andre emphasized by calling over yet another servant.
“Sir?”
“Bring me an enchantment bag and pack it with the necessities—including blood bags, human food, and spare clothes for Gabrielle.”
The servant bowed his head and disappeared out the room. He, like the others, had smelled human. “He knows what an enchantment bag is?” Even I didn’t know what that was, though I’d wager I would very soon.
“You of all people, Gabrielle, should know that all is not as it appears. My servants—even the human ones—must know a thing or two about the supernatural world and about me before I’ll hire them.”
I stared at the door the servant had left through. “If they know so much about our world, then what’s to stop them from squealing on us the first chance they get?”
“It’s easy to enchant humans.”
Oh. Well, that sounded unpleasant.
Another servant chose that moment to enter the room carrying a tray with two glasses of blood and a plate of pasta on it. I couldn’t keep the twisted smirk off my face when my eyes landed on the sight. It shouldn’t look so normal.
“Thank you,” Andre said, nodding to the man as he set the blood and food in front of us.
I stared at the steaming plate of pasta. It looked delicious, but I found I had no appetite for it.
Andre took one of the wine glasses and leaned against the counter, his eyes narrowed as he assessed me.
He notices everything.
I gingerly picked up my fork and speared the noodles, shoving the pasta into my mouth. It tasted like chalk, and my throat closed up at the intrusion of food. I could barely eat my favorite meal. Instead my eyes kept returning to the blood.
Andre took a sip of his drink, then leaned forward to push my glass towards me. “It’s okay to crave it, soulmate.” He had been watching, and now he was trying to make me feel better about my new, freakish craving.
I grabbed the glass and took a sip. I practically moaned at the taste. I took another gulp, and then another. I paused only to take several more bites of pasta. It tasted a little better now, but nowhere near as good as the blood.
Guess I was a little too … bloodthirsty.
After I finished eating, Andre led me upstairs, holding open a door to what looked like the master suite. “Soulmate, relax and freshen up. I will take care of the details of our parting from this place.”
I stepped inside and turned back to face him. “You’re not going to join me?”
Immediately heat seeped into his gaze. “I would like nothing more, soulmate.”
I hadn’t meant the question as a sexual offer per se, but now that he was looking at me like that, my mind couldn’t help drifting to all the ways one could relax together. My skin glimmered. I was pretty sure I would also like nothing more.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I must get our plans in order.” Reluctantly he pushed away from the wall. The look he gave me promised to resume this discussion.
Eep.
“I’ll be back to collect you inside an hour. Until then,” he raised an eyebrow, “enjoy yourself enough for the both us.”
In the bathroom, I splashed cool water onto my face, telling myself to get a grip. People were after me; the last thing I should be thinking about was getting physical with Andre. I grabbed a nearby hand towel and dried my face off.
How was this all going to work? Him and I living on the run? How far would we get? And how long would I survive? I didn’t doubt that Andre had the resources to keep me alive, but what kind of existence was that?
“Not a good one.”
I dropped the towel as my head snapped up to the mirror. Just behind my reflection stood the devil.