“I know,” he said.
“How do you know?” I’ve never let myself think that around you.
“Your body temperature changes when I speak French.”
“Hm.” My eyes narrowed with a disapproving grin. “I’m not sure I like that.”
“Don’t fall in love with a vampire, then.” He kissed the top of my head.
“Okay. I’ll remember that next time.”
“You had better,” he said, sounding a bit English. “Staying human to be with a human is one thing, but if I ever find you in the arms of another vampire, I’ll turn you myself.”
“Duly noted.” I kissed his chest, smiling to myself. “So, what did you say when you were leaving tonight—when you said ‘Until then,’ and added a whole string of words I doubt were in English?”
He laughed once, combing his fingertips gently through the front of my hair. “Until then, you are in all my thoughts.”
“And then you went hunting?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think of me…when you hunt?”
“Sometimes.” He let the word hang for a minute then added, “But not in the way you might think.”
“In what way?”
“I imagine you with me, enjoying the uh…the life of a vampire.” He paused and lifted his head off the pillow a little to look at me. “Does that bother you?”
Hm, does it? “Not in the way you might think.”
“In what way, then?”
“I’m not sure.” Maybe it bothered me that I couldn’t really picture him when he was gone. I mean, if he were human, doing human things, I could picture him at home, on the couch, watching TV or eating dinner with his uncle. But no, my boyfriend had to go into dark alleyways and stalk my species. I didn’t want to picture myself beside him, enjoying the…kill. I had tried a few times before, but it never felt right. My mind would always go back, standing on the sidelines, seeing his victim; the way he’d hold her, pinning her down like he did to me when I tried to scream that day, seeing how he’d bring his lips close to her flesh, and my blood would run hot, watching, but not because I wanted her to die, because I wanted…
“Ara. Stop it!”
“What?”
“I can see that. I can see what you’re thinking.”
The blankets rustled under me as I sat up to look at David, blinking to focus in the dim moonlight shining through my window. “Does it bother you? I mean, is it because I can picture it, or is it because I picture it wrong?”
“Neither of the above.” He grinned.
“Well, what then?”
“It’s because you were picturing the victim—as you.”
I meshed my lips together. “Oh. I was, wasn’t I?”
“That’s it, isn’t it? What you were trying to tell me in the kitchen tonight?” David sat up and grabbed my arm, squeezing it gently.
“Um…”
“Ara? Is that what you were trying to say—you want me to drink your blood?” His eyes narrowed on the inner corners, his lip lifting over his teeth on one side.
Without a word, I lowered my head and nodded, letting my drumbeat heart fill the empty silence that surrounded my awkwardness.
“I’ll never do it.” He dropped my arm and sat back.
“I’m sorry.” My eyes stayed on my knees. “Is it…is it bad of me to think that way?”
“Yes.”
Oh. The awkward silence grew fatter and shrunk in around me. “It’s just that—” How could I explain this? “It’s just that there’s this strange pull…urging me toward you in a different kind of way. I—I want to feel your teeth against my flesh, I—”
“Ara, stop talking.”
“But, why? I just—”
“Ara. I said stop talking.” David stiffened.
It’s not fair. You never let me finish my sentences. I knew it was wrong, and I felt really ashamed of myself, but at the same time…it excited me—the thought, the idea of giving him what was mine—to know it’d warm him and make him smell sweet, to know I’d truly be a part of him.
“Stop it!” David disappeared.
My mouth hung open. “What did I do?”
“You can’t think like that around me, Ara, it’s dangerous.” He leaned against my dresser with his arms folded. “I will never do that with you, so get the idea out of your head.”
Humiliation and rejection tightened my chest muscles, spreading heat through my limbs until it spilled out over my cheeks.
“Ara, don’t cry.” He appeared on the bed, wrapping me in his arms. “Please, I’m sorry. I just—”
“What’s wrong with me? Why wouldn’t you want to do that with me?”
He took a deep breath and smoothed my tears from my cheeks. “It’s not that I don’t want to, mon amour. There are just so many reasons not to.”
“Like?”
“Well, I’d have to cut you, for one, and I can’t use my venom to numb the flesh first.”
I stopped blubbering and looked up from his shoulder. “We could cut where no one would see?”
“How will that be any different? I still have to cut you.”
“I don’t care. Something’s happened inside me, David. I feel confused about it all, like, it’s really gross when I think about it—the idea of drinking blood—but when I feel it—” I placed my hand in the centre of my chest. “It just feels so right.”
“I know. And, believe it or not, it’s only human to feel that way,” he said, and his breath brushed my cheek. “You’re instinctually drawn to me—to my bite.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Surely you’ve watched documentaries on animals and insects that kill by luring their prey?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that’s why you feel the desire to be bitten. It isn’t real, Ara, which is another reason I will never share blood with you.”
“But…you’re not using lust as a spell now, are you?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Then…why do I still want you to drink my blood?”
Beneath his smile, his white teeth gleamed; my eyes traced the sharp edges of his fangs and the straight lines of the front teeth. “Maybe you’re more like my species than you care to admit.”