Blood Leverage (Bloodstone Chronicles Book 1) (21 page)

“We can negotiate terms for my convalescence in a moment.” I tucked the covers beneath Ian’s chin while he glowered. “Would you like me to fluff your pillows?”

“No, I would not! I’d like for you to let
me
decide when
I
need to sleep.”

I fluffed the pillows anyway. “When you start making better decisions, maybe I’ll let you make them yourself.” I wasn’t sure, but I thought Ian sighed too.

“Fine. Whatever. My terribly fragile body is now in bed.” His words dripped with sarcasm. “May we please move on to the next item on your agenda, Nurse Ratched?”

“Nurse Who?”

He sighed again. “Never mind. We’ll address your ignorance later.”

I let the ignorance crack slide. After all, I needed to pick my battles and my next request was guaranteed to cause a big one. As an added precaution, I perched on the comforter above Ian’s legs, assuming he wouldn’t risk my falling to the floor by jumping up when he heard my second condition.

“Fine then. Since you’re ready to sleep now”—or to stab someone, if his expression was anything to judge by—“
I’m
going to feed
you
before your nap.

CHAPTER
TWENTY
-
TWO

 

 

 

HIS reaction didn’t disappoint me.              

“Have you lost your mind? You’ve been injured!”

“And you healed me,” I snapped, “at a detriment to your recovery. So you can shut up and listen, Mr. Bad-ass Vampire. I understand we weren’t supposed to have met, but we can’t go back and undo that.”

Since I didn’t care about his opinion, I didn’t wait for him to respond.

“If you’re searching for Nicky and helping me keep Luigi out of bankruptcy and I’m helping to keep you two fed, I say that makes us friends. And friends help each other when they need it.”

I was on a roll. (Or possibly having a tantrum, take your pick.) “I further understand you were born in a pre-historic era where guys always had to save the girl—mainly from saber tooth tiger attacks and mastodon stampedes.”

“I’m not
that
old,” Ian objected plaintively, looking somewhat stunned.

I kept talking right over him. “Despite your ancient and manly ways, you need to accept that times have changed. It’s acceptable nowadays for the girl to rescue the guy when times require it.”

“A vampire never requires rescue by a human!” He looked appalled.

“And yet, you can’t live without us, now can you?” I shot back.

I noticed a vein standing out on Ian’s forehead and wondered if that’s how I’d looked earlier. I hoped not—it wasn’t attractive. “And right now,
I
say you’ll heal faster if you drink from me. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

He smirked. “You can’t force me to bite you, Aurora. Though I have to admit, I’d love to see you try.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “I’m too good a strategist to try and make you bite me by blunt force.”

His smirk deepened. “Is that so? What did you have in mind then?”

I whipped out the glass shard I’d liberated from the bowl on the nightstand and scored it across the tip of my left index finger, letting the blood drip toward my wrist.

I held my finger two inches from Ian’s nose as his eyes widened. “Since you asked, I was planning a triple threat—a combination of surprise, temptation and thriftiness. How’d I do?”  

“Thriftiness?” he croaked, his eyes focused on my bleeding finger.

“You know.” My voice was smug. “Thriftiness! Waste not, want not? After all, I don’t want it, and I’ve seen how you feel about my sharing it with someone else.”

“Besides,” I murmured, bringing my finger an inch closer, “I owe you. Your arrival saved me from Eggplant and you’re helping me look for Nicky. You’ve healed me, you’ve fed me, you taught me to freaking drive for crying out loud,” I added with a laugh.

“You’ve shared your movies and your books and even your bed with me! Call me crazy, but somehow
this
”—I wiggled my fingertip—“seems more meaningful than a thank you note.” I smiled before shifting closer to him.

“Stop being an ass,” I said softly. “Let me show my gratitude and give you the one thing only I can give.” I reached up and traced my bloody fingertip over his lips. He groaned at my touch but kept his lips locked together.

I had to give the guy points for willpower, but I could keep this up as long as I had to. With the lightest touch I could manage, I traced my finger back and forth over his lower lip and was met with another groan. Then I raised my finger, letting the blood drip onto his lips, and was rewarded with what I could only call a whimper.

By this point, I didn’t think I’d meet with resistance if I opened his mouth, but this was a matter of principle. I was a
woman with a point to prove. For my grand finale, I pulled my hand back and looked at it.

“Fine then, you win.” I brought my finger to my mouth as if to lick it clean. And that did it. 

He pulled me against his chest and imprisoned my wrist in his right hand, his tongue sweeping over my forearm in narrow strokes to catch the trickles of blood nearing my elbow. Once he’d finished with that, he looked at me as if asking permission before drawing my finger into his mouth. I’m not sure whether the shudder I felt came from me or from him. 

After a few moments I recognized the quickening of his pace as a sign of impatience—he wasn’t getting what he needed fast enough. Despite his soft hum of disappointment, he made no effort to stop me from sliding my finger from his mouth. And then I offered my wrist.

Instead of taking it, he raised his index finger and feathered it along the visible vein. Once, twice, three times and I shivered. Then he looked at me. “Are you sure, Aurora?”

I laid my wrist in his palm. “I trust you.”

He took my wrist as though it was fragile, which I suppose to him it was. “I won’t let it hurt.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want you wasting your energy for this. It would defeat the point.” Besides, I was curious.

“As you say,” he whispered, keeping his eyes on mine as he lifted my wrist to his mouth and bit. I cried out when his fangs sank into my wrist, but more from surprise than actual pain.

His right hand still held my wrist and his left hand was stroking my back through the silk of the borrowed nightgown. His eyes held mine, alert for any sign of discomfort. We remained locked together for an indeterminable number of minutes and though I squirmed once or twice, the sensation was closer to discomfort than pain.

He removed my wrist from his mouth with a final, lazy lick. Then I felt the familiar burn and saw the marks he’d left fading away.

I turned to scold him, but he beat me to it.

“Shhhh,” he whispered, still cradling me in his arms. “Don’t give it a moment’s thought. The first things vampires learn to heal are marks left by their fangs. It’s automatic, like breathing. Besides, they would have been awkward to keep covered.”

“If you say so,” I murmured. Between the earlier excitement and my recent blood loss, I could barely stay awake as I crawled toward the center of the bed. “Pull the covers down, please?”

He obliged me. “Does that mean you need a nap now, too?”

My voice was slurry with sleep. “Don’ forget to set the alarm. I have class later.” I rolled over and folded the corner of the pillow beneath my head the way I liked it. The pillow further muffled my voice. “You have to sleep now too, ‘kay? That was the deal.”

I heard Ian sigh as he lay down on the other side of the bed. Not trusting him to stay, I reached out and laid my hand on his chest to keep him in place. As I slept, I dreamed Ian’s heart began to beat beneath my hand.

 

 

*     *     *     *     *

 

 

He was sitting on the bed when the alarm went off, a copy of
Great Expectations
open across his lap. When I sat up, he passed me another book titled,
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest
.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to focus. “What’s this?”

He grinned. “It explains my ‘Nurse Ratched’ reference. We’ll watch the movie after you finish the book. The performances are phenomenal.”

I thanked him and set the book on the bedside table. The tray, my shoe and the bowl of glass shards had all been removed—presumably to prevent me from staging another coup. “We’re still okay, aren’t we? I only wanted to help.”

In answer, he raised my healed wrist and kissed it lightly. “We’re better than okay. You were right. Friends help one another and treat each other as equals. I was being a stubborn jerk and I feel much better now.

“Besides,” he waggled his eyebrows, “seeing your version of ‘persuasive’ was educational.”

My face turned pink and I flung my legs out of bed while reminding myself that in addition to being a vampire, Ian was already spoken for.

Then I did a double take. “Holy cats, what happened to my nightgown?” Most of its skirt was gone. I was still decent, but only by a scant inch.

Ian arched an eyebrow. “Holy
cats
?”

“Don’t ask.” I shrugged. “Something I heard earlier.” I was more interested in the fate of my clothes and began poking through the covers.

“Don’t bother. I tore it off while you slept.” He lifted a shoulder in dismissal. “I realized you weren’t accustomed to sleeping in something that binds your legs. It was bothering you and I eliminated it.”

He said this like it was the most logical solution in the world.

“This house is rough on clothing.” I pretended to grumble, but was somewhat pleased the expensive negligee had been trashed. I pettily hoped it had been a favorite of Lillian’s. “Is there something I can wear for the ride home?”

“You’re all set.” Ian gestured to the chairs by the fireplace, where a pair of jeans and plain white t-shirt were folded. I’d been hoping for something belonging to Ian or Keanu, but didn’t say it. 

Talk about a fashion comedown
, I sighed inwardly. Good thing I had my grubby shoes back in the truck; they were a perfect match for this new ensemble.

After examining the clothes, I took them into the bathroom. Lillian was maybe three inches taller—of course she was—but otherwise her clothes were a decent fit. I rolled the jeans up a couple turns before exiting the bathroom. “I’m surprised I have so much energy after giving blood.”

“I didn’t take much.” Despite his matter of fact tone, the memory made me flush.

“It seemed lengthy enough,” I said, closing the door behind me.  

He kissed his fingertips and grinned. “When presented with a delicacy, one doesn’t gulp. One savors.”

I had no response for that and changed the subject. “Do you mind if I get something to drink before I leave? I feel fine to drive, but I’m thirsty.”

“Keanu already made dinner for you. It’s only cold stuff since we didn’t know how long you’d sleep, but it’ll save you the effort of cooking later.” He slid lazily off the bed and wandered into his bathroom as I headed toward the kitchen.

Keanu’s interpretation of ‘cold stuff’ consisted of a spinach salad with steak, hard boiled eggs and a bacon vinaigrette. There were also leftover rolls and butter from earlier, but I couldn’t help noticing all the high-iron food. I wondered if this was coincidence or a subtle reprimand for having given blood twice this week.

A few minutes into the meal, I decided on reprimand. Keanu had barely spoken and I’d caught him staring multiple times. All I could hear in my head was Ian yelling at him to stop eavesdropping. I wondered if he had.

In an attempt to break the silence I thanked him for dinner and made a point to praise his bacon vinaigrette. Anything that makes spinach more palatable deserves commendation as far as I’m concerned. 

“No big deal.”

When I realized that was all I was getting, I gave up on conversation and concentrated on my food until Ian reappeared. However, when Ian offered to guide me to the truck, Keanu insisted on doing it. “I know you’re much
better, but there’s no point in having you anywhere near the sun. Besides, the floors are still sticky from the peaches and you’re not wearing shoes.”

“Peaches?” Ian looked confused—no surprise there.

Keanu and I answered in unison. “Don’t ask.”

“You know,” I jumped in, not wanting Ian to hear of my earlier adventure, “I left your
Cuckoo
book in the bedroom. I’ll grab it and then I need to get home.”

Keanu cleared the table as Ian and I trotted back to the bedroom. (Okay, it was a trot for me. For Ian it was the equivalent of a crawl.) The book was on the nightstand and I self-consciously turned to say goodbye.

“Well,” I hesitated. “I’ll see you in a few days then, for my delivery with Keanu?” I felt a little awkward, never knowing where I stood around here. 

Ian nodded, possibly feeling a bit awkward himself. “Thank you again, Aurora. For everything. If all goes well I’ll be back to normal by tomorrow evening. If that’s the case, I’ll be leaving for a day on business. Nothing special,” he added, though it was none of my business, “but you’ll want an account established for your friend. And since Luigi isn’t here, I’ll need her name.”

I thought about that for a minute. “I’m not sure that’ll work. My friend doesn’t have easy access to a bank.” Not that I’d ever been to the bank either, but Amy had a much greater need for money than I.

“Besides,” I said. “Who knows how long this arrangement will last? I’m not giving up on Nicky.”

“Okay,” his voice softened. “I’ll have local credits when you return. Drive safely.” Once again, he picked up my wrist and kissed it, followed by a hug that made me drop his book. He caught it before it hit the ground. 

Back in the kitchen Keanu was waiting with my basket. He opened it to show me he’d filled it with blueberries.

I looked at him in confusion. “Blueberries?”

“I felt guilty about letting you waste your peaches,” he said, smiling for the first time since I’d awakened. “Besides,
everyone must have noticed you in that knockout dress earlier. If anyone asks, you can say you changed to pick these.” The pride in his logic rolled off him in waves.

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