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I pulled my mouth away. I didn’t need the blood for strength or nutrition. This was, what did he say? Purelyrecreational purposes. Sugar’s breath became heavy, he grabbed for my arm when I pulled away, he didn’t want to be done yet.

“Vlákas.”

We both jumped at the curse thrown from the doorway. Shaw filled the entrance and rubbed his eyes like he just encountered the village idiot.

Sugar, stepping back from me, stuffed his arms into his shirt, roughed it up to get it to lie straight, and attacked the buttons.

“I’m not a fucking baby. I’m handling my shit.”

“Are there rules about not biting mortals?” I asked, my voice coming out hotter than I intended.

“It’s his body,” Shaw said, leaning against the edge of the desk, sorting through the packaging debris, cataloging the equipment. “He’s adult enough to deal with the consequences of his dumb decisions.” Sugar made a disgusted noise and snatched up the debris.

“You, on the other hand, are irresponsible.”

Sugar and I looked at each another like we were both bewildered and offended.

“I’m the one who asked.” Sugar said defensively. We shared a look, his lip twitched in a hint of amusement.

“And he,” Shaw jerked his head towards me, “should know not to bite someone with diabetes?”

“Dia-what?” I recoiled at the unfamiliar word.

“It’s not a big fucking deal, man.” Sugar stuffed the garbage in the trash with more force than necessary.

“How many cc’s did you take?” Shaw asked me.

“What’s acc?”

Shaw rolled his eyes. “A mouthful or a gutful?”

I shrugged.

“You’ve been pampered and coddled for a century...”

“That’s none…”

“...waited on hand and foot, all your messes cleaned up by someone else.”

Heat flared across my face. I wanted it to be anger and indignation, but there was shame mixed in there. Shaw was not going to get that out of me. I squared my shoulder and lifted my chin.

“Type 1 suppresses the immune system and slows healing and recovery. Blood loss, on top of that, taxes the body. Repeated blood transfusions aren’t the answer.” That last part was directed to Sugar, who mockingly repeated Shaw’s words under his breath.

I looked at Sugar. I had no idea he was ill. I didn’t spend enough time with mortals to really know, or care, about common health issues.

“Do whatever you want with your blood, Sugar, I don’t want to put you in the ground because you’re copping an attitude.”

Sugar rolled his eyes, finished cleaning up, and then stormed out of the room.

“I don’t care about the bite.” Shaw caught Sugar by the arm, his voice was gentle, reassuring. “I do care that you’re on this side of the building. Newly made vampires are volatile and you would not survive that bite.” Shaw’s voice was dark with emotion, a slight accent surfacing that I couldn’t place.

Sugar sniffed. His body posture mirrored mine, defiance as a core personality trait. He turned without a word and stalked out of the room.

“Go order some dumplings,” Shaw said to Sugar’s back. I knew he wouldn’t let this go.

“I should have…” not bitten him? not come here at all? Taken Tiffany far far away? Fuck. “I should have done more to understand.”

Shaw nodded his head silently and crossed his arms.