The heat of desire flashed in her eyes, and for a blinding moment, the last year of pain had vanished. He’d sacrifice anything to keep it this way.
She gave his hardening cock a solid squeeze. “Is it so difficult to think without this being involved?”
“With you in the room? Yes.” He cupped her breasts. “I’ve been deprived. We must make up for the lack.”
Just like that, the humor in her eyes disappeared. He could have ripped his tongue out. She brushed her fingertips over his zipper before letting her hands fall at her sides. “Yeah.” The word fell flat between them.
He gave her breast a farewell caress. See ya later, he hoped. An apology emerged in his thoughts, and he quelled it. How many times could he say I’m sorry? It obviously wasn’t working. Probably because deep down inside he wasn’t. He had what he wanted, and now he needed to convince her she wanted it too.
“I’m not sure how this will work between us. I can’t stand the idea of you being with another woman.” A tear spilled along her cheek before she punched him again.
“Okay.” He dragged out the word. “That spot’s going to start tingling soon if you keep this up.” Then what she said finally sank in. “Wait, what? Being with whom?”
“You’ve already mentioned how you’re not fond of feeding from men all the time, and I can’t picture myself pressing against a woman or holding her…” She shrugged. “If I’m going to feed from men, I can’t stop you from feeding from women.”
“What happened to blood in a bag?” He shouted the question. Hell no, she wasn’t getting cozy with any kind of male. Pushing off the table, he rose to his feet and took a deep breath to clear his head.
She paced across the room, cane in hand clicking with her steps. “I’ll try it, I said, but if I can’t, what are my options? I’ll have to find humans who’ll feed me. Shifter females are so possessive. I can’t imagine asking the Vasi for help. Maybe I should talk to Clementine instead. She might have some suggestions as to where—”
He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her to face him before she could wear a hole in his floor. “It’ll be fine, Sugar.” Cradling her in his arms, he pressed her shaking form to him. He couldn’t remember much of being a fledgling. Things were different for him and Pallas. “I’ve been a vampire longer than Clementine and know something about staying fed.”
“I know, but I don’t want to hunt on the streets for bad guys.” Her voice came out muffled against his chest.
He couldn’t stop his grin. “I do that for shit and giggles. I wouldn’t expect you to join me.” There was primeval satisfaction about hunting dangerous prey and feeding until their life drained from them. His clan’s urge to kill was the strongest. It made them fantastic warriors.
Unfortunately the days of wars were long gone. He’d chosen to fight crime in his own way to ease these urges. He would teach Pallas this as well. Hopefully it would be enough for him.
She nodded, her face rubbing on his shirt.
“Let’s start with a date.”
Jerking in his arms, she glared at him. “And do what?”
“Like other couples. I’ll take you to dinner and a movie.” He grimaced. “Unless you want to dance.” After a millennia, he still couldn’t keep rhythm to save his sorry ass.
“That sounds…nice.” A pale blush colored her cheeks. Hope swelled his chest that he could still induce this reaction from her.
“The vampire population is more prominent in this area than in Chicago. Many businesses cater to our needs.” He twirled her around to face the door and gave her a swat on the rear for good measure. She truly owned the nicest heart-shaped butt he’d ever laid eyes on. “The sun will be rising soon. To bed.”
She hesitated at the door. “Shouldn’t I sleep in a coffin like you did at home?”
“Not here. The windows are shuttered during daylight hours. We’re safe.” He offered her a reassuring smile.
It didn’t seem to help. “We could have done that at the brownstone for you.”
He crossed the room until he stood close to her, skimming his fingertips along her jaw. “You would have done it, wouldn’t you?”
She cocked her head. “Of—of course. I’m sorry it never occurred to me.”
Sighing, he traced her rosebud lips. It was this lack of deception, this honest desire to do good for those around her, which drew him to Sugar like a bee to honey. She was an enigma. Or maybe his life had been so filled with darkness that someone with such a generous soul would seem so to him. “I wouldn’t have allowed it. Shuttering the sunlight out wouldn’t have been fair to you or the Vasi.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and whispered, “Besides, how would you have enjoyed your gardens with the windows all covered?”
Chapter Seventeen
The library was still in shambles and held too many bad memories for him to relax, so Daedalus sat in his study by the empty fireplace with as many chronicles of fledgling vampires he could gather.
Sugar slept down the hall, and the comfort of her body called to him, but the need for knowledge drove him into another day of sleeplessness. Every fledgling he’d created was taken by his clan to train as warriors. Some of his brothers had vampire companions made for them by other clans, but he’d never felt this desire until recently. How did one teach a fledgling about the bloodlust?
For Daedalus, the Nosferatu had used it to drive their new recruits to learn and to fight, using the bloodlust to hunt and tear their victims to shreds. Sugar needed a more delicate way to discover her control. He didn’t want to send her over the edge into insanity. He wished he’d questioned some of his nest before now. At the time, it seemed like a weakness to admit this lack of skill. His pride could make Sugar suffer.
From what little he discovered, she would have had some kind of mental bond to her creator. He couldn’t find out what happened if the creator died in the process of her birth. Fuck a duck, he should have kept that twerp alive. He grimaced. The idea of her creator linked to Sugar would have driven him to kill the traitor anyway. Whatever issues this would create, they’d figure it out.
Slight shuffling of feet at his door caught his attention. “Come in, Clementine,” he called before she could knock.
She entered the room and waited in front of him. Decades of serving him as her master still kept her from treating him like a friend, even though they had shared the same house for months.
“It’s a little early for you to rise.” He flipped another page and scanned the contents.
“Not really. The sun set hours ago.”
He shot her a quick look and checked his internal clock with some surprise. “I hadn’t noticed. Where’s Sugar?” He’d wanted to be at the bedside when she rose, damn. Setting aside his book, he got to his feet.
“That’s why I’m here. She’s still asleep.” Clementine wrung her hands. “I know you’ve more experience than I, but I was wondering if I could offer you some advice.”
Crossing his arms, he schooled his expression so he wouldn’t appear eager. “Please do.” Why hadn’t Sugar risen?
“Fledglings have a difficult time waking for the first few months. Since her master is dead, I think you should take on this role.”
He nodded, a little chagrined since her words revived a very, very old memory of being kicked awake in the train camps. “I can manage this. What else?”
“I don’t think you should encourage Sugar to feed only from stored blood. Hunger in the young is very strong. The power it had over me when I first manifested was intense. It’s how my creator held sway over me and made—made me do those things.” She hated speaking of her past, and he regretted that his incompetence made her feel it necessary to recall her times as a whore.