He also wanted to know what other side effects she was referring to, but hunger took over, and all he could think about was eating. It clawed at him, like an animal trying to get out of a cage, and before he realized what he was doing, Doug found himself standing on the other side of the room with the pitcher in hand.
“What the fuck?” he said in awe as he looked back to where he’d been standing a second before. Somehow, he’d managed to move twenty feet without even feeling it—like he willed himself across the room in the blink of an eye.
“You have a lot to learn, like I said,” Olivia murmured. “I can’t have you running around the streets of New York City starving.” She stood in the open door with her hand lingering on the doorknob. “Otherwise, you will turn into the very monster you fear.”
Chapter 9
Olivia shut the door behind her, leaned against it, and closed her eyes as she willed her quaking body to settle down. She shook with a volatile combination of lust, fear, loss, and anger from the intense events that had taken place in the past twelve hours. She had feared that by turning Doug, she would run the risk of losing him altogether, and her suspicions were confirmed.
He hated her. Hated what she was and what she had made him.
In addition to everything else, that tattoo on his back was a perfect image of the Dagger of Eternity. Why would he have that tattoo? Was it from the dreams with her? Had she shown it to him at some point in the dreamscape? Damn it, she couldn’t remember.
What the hell did that matter, anyway? His body wanted her, but that could be chalked up to the surge of power and intensified sensations that were common when a new vampire was turned. Unfortunately, in his heart where it mattered, he loathed her, and he wasn’t the only one. Right about now, she had a serious case of self-loathing.
Olivia didn’t blame him for being angry, and if he had been any other new vampire, it would not have hurt to have him look at her with disgust—but Doug wasn’t just anyone.
He was her bloodmate.
The evidence pointed in that direction, and when she turned him, any miniscule lingering doubt about who he was, or more importantly who they were to each other, was eliminated.
That small bit she tasted during their kiss in the alley had been nothing compared to the tsunami of emotion, heat, and life force she experienced when she drained him before the blood exchange. His blood memories flooded her in living color.
She was swamped by the loneliness from his life of self-imposed isolation, by the grief he felt when his mother died, the pride he experienced when he graduated from college and then the police academy, and the blind rage that filled his mind every time he saw a murdered woman or child.
His whole life flashed into her, his memories becoming hers in minutes, and finally, her heart beat in time with his as it slowly died out. During Doug’s final moments as a human, Olivia was truly alive and joined with him as though they were one. Her heart started to beat and her lungs filled with air—she lived as he died.
That was a first. She’d never merged with the others when she turned them.
When she slit her wrist and let her ancient blood flow into his mouth, Olivia expected him to swallow it blindly, as most half-dead people did—yet the opposite happened. As the first trickle of rich blood dripped over his tongue, Doug grabbed her arm. He clamped onto her wrist and held it greedily to his lips as he drank, while his other arm slipped around her waist and cradled her body flush against him.
She didn’t tell him when to stop feeding. He simply pulled away and licked her wound closed without any prompting. He pulled her tighter and kept her wrapped in his embrace as he hibernated during the change. Olivia allowed herself to linger there and slumber briefly in his arms before waking to clean him up.
She never slept with a man in her bed. Not even as a human. She and Douglas had made love in the woods that one fateful night, and they certainly never slept together. Even she and Vincent never shared a bed when they traveled together—not that he didn’t try. Doug Paxton was the first man she truly slept with—human or vampire.
It was the most intimate moment of her life.
Not that Doug had any idea how monumental that was, and would it even matter? Would it make a difference if he knew who they were to each other or who he used to be? At the moment, he hated her and the idea of being a vampire so much that he would rather kill himself.
Olivia hadn’t had any intention to turn him. She planned on glamouring him to make him forget, and all of those grand plans went out the window when she saw the rogue feeding on him in the alley.
Something inside of her snapped.
She couldn’t let him die again. She loved him.
While she had a penchant for rescuing people and animals, she at least thought about what she was doing. Some of her coven members had been alert enough for Olivia to ask them if they wanted to be turned. Not Doug. It was probably the most selfish decision Olivia had ever made, so she couldn’t blame him for hating her.
Wonderful. She finally found the love of her life after three centuries, and he despised her. Would it even matter that she loved him? That she madly, truly, deeply loved him? Not likely.
Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat and fought the tears that stung her eyes. She loved him for who he was all those years ago and for the man he was today. She loved his protective nature and his need for the truth. She adored staring into those brilliant blue eyes and the rush of his skin as it brushed along hers.
She loved him.
Liar, she thought to herself. If she really loved him, would she have turned him in the first place? Would she have condemned him to an eternity of darkness? She could be dead wrong about the bloodmate legend, and they may not become daywalkers, but she took his human life anyway. He was right. She should have let him die, and if she hadn’t been such a selfish bitch, she would have.
Olivia shoved herself away from the door and stalked into the kitchen with Van Helsing at her heels. She’d kept him out of the bedroom because she wasn’t sure how the dog would react to the newest member of the coven, or how Doug would react to the dog, for that matter.
She’d never heard of any vampire transitioning so quickly. Her gut instinct told her it was because he was her bloodmate, but it was only a hunch. All she had to go on was rumor and innuendo, which was not her usual way of operating. Perhaps Xavier or Millicent would have insight into why Doug’s transition was so fast.
Olivia grabbed some blood from the fridge, stuck it in the microwave, and furiously punched buttons. She watched the red mug spin slowly and wondered what other surprises lay in wait. She knew he would have questions, and she prayed she would have answers. The truth was she had plenty of questions herself.
A knock on the apartment door tore her from her thoughts. It was Pete. Olivia had called him earlier and asked for help after she found Doug in the alley. Even though he wasn’t thrilled his friend had been turned, it didn’t stop him.
“Come in,” she shouted.
Pete swung the door open and stepped inside, but the moment he did, his eyes glowed red. “He’s awake already?” He flicked his glowing eyes to the guest bedroom and lowered his voice. “It’s only been twelve hours. I thought the change took at least two days.”
“Yeah, me too.” The microwave beeped loudly. Olivia snagged her mug and drank the blood as she gave Pete one sarcastic thumb up. “Awesome.”