There were Stormhale secrets that she could no longer afford to keep. Not now. Anika had been plotting with her family, sure, but who else? Drusilla might still get a note about her by the end of the day despite Chloe stopping this one.
Which meant that protecting Oldcrest wasn't just about her friends, or a matter of right and wrong. It was about survival.
"Come on, let's go."
She didn't protest, letting Sebastian lead her down the hill toward the dorms. As they passed Billevern's barrier, the troll growled low.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked, somewhat threateningly.
Sebastian was wise enough to reply promptly. Angering a troll was nothing short of suicidal.
"She was drugged. Alexius says she needs rest and blood, that's all."
The troll nodded before glaring down at her. "You get better, understood?"
She laughed, even though it hurt her lungs and abs.
"I'll try, Billevern."
"It's Bill. And boy, moving's hurting her. Help the girl, you idiot."
He laughed. "Well, we'd better listen to Bill. Arms around my neck, okay?"
Cat grimaced but did as she was told, if only because this was the first time the troll had given her the time of day. She didn't want him to be pissed at her.
Sebastian carried her like a princess.
Oh.
That was kind of nice. And she liked his smell.
No, she adored his smell. It was like chocolate and spice mixed with rum and sprinkled with strawberry.
Cat bit down on her lip. Shit, Alexius hadn't been kidding. She seriously needed blood, right now, before she sank her teeth right inside his neck.
That wasn't unusual between vampires. Intense, intimate? Yes. But not unusual. Cat had never done it, but she knew that lovers, mates, husbands and wives exchanged blood. Craving vampire blood was different, though—the sort of thing that only happened to ferals. Or Eirikrsons.
She looked down to her lap. She had no business wanting to drink from Sebastian, regardless of how good he smelled or how weak she felt.
"You can let me down now," she said when they approached the dorm.
Sebastian snorted.
"Right. Do you know what Billevern would do to me if he hears that? Even Levi is careful with that man."
She bit back a groan, then held her breath, keeping her gaze away from his neck. Bash's celerity was greatly appreciated. They were in front of her bedroom within seconds.
"Keys?"
"It's open," she replied.
He pushed the handle down and whooshed past the door.
Cat blushed. Shit. She hadn't expected company.
Her room, here or in Rome, was her den, the one place where she could relax, chill out with music blasting in her ears without caring about what anyone thought of her.
And it was chaos. But she could find any book in the stack on the floor. Sure, half of her wardrobe was piled up in the room rather than folded or hung, but the clothes on her armchair were dirty and those on her bench just had to be ironed. An organized mess, in short.
A gentleman may have remained silent.
"Jesus, did a tornado hit or something?"
She wasn't strong enough to laugh, but she did manage to punch his shoulder. A pathetic hit.
He gently put her down on her bed.
"Blood?" he asked.
She pointed to her fridge in the corner of the room.
"There's a microwave…" A yawn interrupted her speech. "Somewhere."
Her eyes closed, not opening again until dawn, though falling asleep took a moment.
Long enough for her to wonder whether she'd ever slept with anyone quite so close. Even her brother. Even her sister.
She must have been quite tired, because she faded out of consciousness without even thinking about telling Sebastian to leave.
Cat was no stranger to pain, but she couldn't recall ever having a headache quite as acute, like someone had lit a fire at the base of her skull.
That was nothing to the furnace burning her throat. Thirst like she'd never known. Thirst so strong she wanted to sink her teeth into the first thing, the first person, she could hunt down.
Her eyes opened. She didn't need a mirror to know they were bright silver. The eyes of a hunter focusing on the thing right in front of her.
A glass filled with blood.
She moved faster than she ever had, knocked some of it onto her bed, and didn't care one bit. Her eyes closed as she gulped the blood down, moaning in relief.
It tasted…wrong. Stale. Disgusting.
Cat opened her eyes again and found Bash sitting on her office chair, which he'd dragged next to her bed.
He had another glass at the ready.
"I called Alexius when you crashed without drinking. He said you'd be parched when you woke up. I can relate."
Cat gratefully took the second glass and downed it too, though a little slower this time. It still tasted rancid.
Blood was like water to her. Tasteless, simple. Necessary. She didn't like or dislike it, she just…needed it to survive. Her palate wasn't so refined as to prefer one blood type over another. They were all the same, a liquid she couldn't survive without.
Right now, everything she knew was flipped on its head. And she realized what an ass she'd been.
Her eyes cut to Sebastian. He still smelled so very good. As tempting as an apple pie right out of the oven.
"Sorry. I was a bitch," she said with a wince.
"On which occasion?" Sebastian asked.
Cat snorted, or laughed; she couldn't quite tell.
"When I implied you were weak. For needing blood the way you do," she added.
She'd believed that since she was a newborn, turned only twelve months ago, she could remember what he was going through quite clearly. But if tonight was any indication, she had no idea. And no wonder.
All her life, she'd known she would eventually turn into a vampire. And she'd been told what to expect, and trained to control her thirst. The conditioning had started early. When she'd been thirsty as a child, she'd had to wait an hour before being given a drop of water. In her teens, she'd fasted for days on end, all the while sparring. Assuming that she could understand what someone like Bash felt upon turning had been self-centered as hell.
This was her first time experiencing bloodlust in twelve months. And she wasn't dealing with it well.
The Challenge
Something was wrong with Catherine, and Bash fucking hated it.
He wanted to ask, but knew she'd just tell him to bugger off.
"You had a point, by the way,” he said, mostly to distract her. "What you said worked. My thirst is getting better with some exposure to human scent. I was avoiding the issue."
"Sure, but if your thirst is anything like this, I get why you'd want to."
Ah. She was desperate for blood. He certainly could relate to that.
"More blood?"
She'd just finished her second glass, but she shut her eyes and shook her head.
"No, this isn't helping. It tastes awful, and isn't even taking the edge off." She sighed. "I just need to keep it under control."
Bash watched her with rapture, impressed and frustrated all at once.
He'd been trained as a fucking warrior and couldn't handle the thirst. Here she was, just wishing it away.
"Have you ever drunk from someone's vein?" Bash found himself asking.
Her eyes flew open.
She looked a lot better than she had four hours ago when she'd fallen asleep. But her eyes were still silver, not their usual blue.
"Of course not."
"I have. I think that's one of the reasons why I'm like this. Unsatisfied." He paused. "Chloe fed me from her wrist that day, after I'd been bitten. She had to, to save me. But the bags of blood I drink—they're nothing compared to the real thing. If you haven't tried that, well, there's no way you'd know."
Plus, there was the fact that he'd been bitten by a feral, not a regular vampire.
"Ignorance doesn't excuse cruelty," Catherine retorted. "At least it shouldn't. Just take my apology and let's call it a night."
He laughed. "All right. Apology accepted. Now, how do you feel?"
"Okay," she replied. "I have my strength back. The thirst will go, in due time." She winced, admitting, “And it would help if I didn’t have anyone with fresh blood around me right now.”
He certainly understood that.
Bash nodded. "All right. Then I'll go back to work."
It was only one in the morning; he could still replace whoever had covered his shift.
"Sure thing. I'll see you tonight."
Leaving wasn't easy. He didn't like closing the door behind him. Her scent had been all around the room, and he'd loved every bit of it. The fresh air was so very boring to him, without the hints of vanilla and seaside.
He headed south and found Mikar patrolling with the frightening, elusive vampire he'd seen earlier. Ruby.
"Hey."
"How is she?" the barbaric woman asked.
Bash was surprised she spoke at all, let alone in English. He couldn't quite place her thick accent. Old Scottish, perhaps, or maybe Irish. Something lost a long time ago.
"Well enough," he replied, then paused. "Thirsty. I think my presence wasn't helping."
Mikar and Ruby exchanged a glance that seemed knowing; they understood thirst so strong they wanted to drink from fellow vampires.
Bash wondered how many among their kind experienced it. Maybe it was a lot more common than what he’d believed.
"It'll fade in time. The girl has courage. If she's in trouble, you come to me," Ruby ordered.
Bash nodded, and she walked away, heading toward the Wolvswoods.
"Don't take it personally. She doesn't like people much."
Bash laughed. "Who am I to talk?"
He'd avoided most of his friends for months.
Mikar glanced at him. "You seem to be doing better."
"Yes." Thanks to Catherine. "I'm getting used to the smell. Or, rather, distracting myself by ignoring it. My brain is so weird. Unfamiliar."