“And when we wake, you will need to feed,” he told me. “I know that you’re weakened now from everything that happened in Death Valley.”
My heart raced at the thought. “I can’t feed from you,” I stammered. “We haven’t mastered our powers yet and your strength has grown. I don’t know if I could control it.” The thought, the simple thought, of drinking Brennan’s blood now terrified me enough that I started to see his aura. The colors blinded me and I closed my eyes against the light.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered softly into my hair. Cupping my face, he ran his thumb lightly along my cheekbone.
“You don’t need to drink from me. We’ll think of something else.”
I squeezed my eyes tightly closed. This part of my curse was truly a curse. But it was something I’d think about after I’d rested. Brennan was right. I was in a weakened state. A little rest would go a long way.
Chapter Two
When I awoke, Brennan was gone. Sniffing the air, the acrid scent of a dying fire filled my nose. Glancing sideways at the fireplace, I saw that its red embers were the only remainder of its once roaring flame. Sighing, I propped myself up on one elbow.
The crack of light that peeked from the buckskin covering the window was dim. It was late in the day. I glanced at the skin of my arm. Even here in the dark of this closed hut, I could see that I was deathly pale. Brennan had been correct. The scene in Death Valley had taken my energy and I desperately needed to eat. With a sigh, I swung my legs over the side of the heavy bed and sat up.
A wave of dizziness passed over me and I steadied myself with my hands before I stood. I really was weak. It was never good to allow my strength to become this replete. I couldn’t remember the last time it had been this bad.
“Son of a –“
“You’re up.” Brennan interrupted my curse as he ducked into the hut. He was followed closely by Branwyn and another girl. The girl trailing her had wide frightened eyes and milky white skin. My stomach dropped into my toes at the look on their faces.
“What’s going on?” I asked uncertainly, taking a step backward.
“You need to eat,” Brennan said firmly, crossing the room in three strides.
“And?” I raised an eyebrow. My gaze flew to the girl behind Branwyn. “No.”
“Why?” Brennan asked. “What difference is it from when you peruse high school parties on the beach? You’ll feed and then take her memories. No harm, no foul. If you don’t eat, you’re going to suffer. I can’t watch you suffer, Em.”
“Shayla is happy to help you,” Branwyn told me quietly. “She understands the situation. And like Brennan has pointed out, you will simply take her memories. She’ll never remember anyway. But know that you have her full permission. It is an honor to serve you.”
She ducked her head slightly and the girl, Shayla, dropped to her knees and extended her arm to me. “It’s an honor, princess,” she repeated after Branwyn, her eyes averted from mine.
“Are there no men?” I asked Branwyn with a sigh. I already knew the answer. Many pagan priestesses secluded themselves from the rest of society- away from men. They felt it purified their magic. They only mingled with the other sex during times of ritual and sacrifice. I sighed again when she shook her head.
“Crap,” I muttered. When I drank from a mortal’s blood, it was sexually pleasurable for them. I had long since learned that, and learned that it simplified things to simply drink from men. This girl would have erotic dreams about me for weeks to come after this.
“Very well,” I muttered. “Shayla, you may rise. And you might as well get comfortable.” Without meeting her gaze, I motioned to the bed. She leaped to her feet and practically bounded to the bed, eager to please me. I hated this.
Brennan laid a hand on my arm reassuringly. “You don’t have a choice, Emmie. You won’t drink from me and there are only these priestesses here. What other choice do you have?”
As much as I hated it, he was right. I climbed back onto the bed and sat next to the girl. She was shaking.
“Calm yourself,” I told her quietly. “It won’t hurt and I promise you that you won’t remember it.”
She nodded, the freckles standing out on her nose as the blood drained away from her face. I swallowed hard. I hated being the thing that invoked such fear. It made me feel like a monster.
“You’re not a monster,” Brennan replied to my unspoken thought as he moved around the bed to hold the girl’s arms. He looked uncertain, like he wanted to help but didn’t know what to do.
“You don’t need to restrain her,” I told him wearily. “She won’t try to get away. Trust me.”
Hovering above her quaking body, I looked into her blue eyes.
“Do you trust me?” I asked quietly.
It was a brazen question, I knew, because she had only just met me. But part of my curse was an ability to draw people to me. Men and women alike wanted to be near me. And it was no different with this girl. She nodded, her confidence in me absolute.
“Yes,” she whispered.
I paused for just one beat and then picked up her wrist. Without hesitation, I sank my teeth into it. She gasped once, quickly and loud. But then she relaxed as pheromones exploded within her veins. I could taste them as I drew her blood into my mouth and allowed it to slide down my throat. Female blood was sweet, sweeter than a man’s. I sucked it in, allowing it to run down my chin.
Shayla was moaning by this point, thrashing beneath me in pleasure. I knew she would be mortified if she was truly conscious, which by this point she was not. I knew her mind was fuzzy, clouded by my curse. She arched up against me, trying to draw nearer to me, trying to run her lips along my neck.
Brennan watched in amusement. He had never seen this before. I had drunk from him, but he had never watched as a by-stander. He lifted his hands helplessly. He didn’t know what to do.
“You can restrain her now,” I said quickly as I drew in a breath. “She wouldn’t want to behave in such a way. She doesn’t mean it.”