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His eyes close, and then it’s like he’s sleeping again.What is wrong with him?

The girl is fighting like crazy, making so much noise it’s driving me insane.

I whirl toward her and press the tip of the knife to her throat. “Shut the fuck up!”

Her eyes widen, and even though she’s still shaking, she stops trying to escape. Her chest is heaving and she’s making weird breathing noises, but at least I can think a little clearly now. I start to pace as I work through my thoughts.

I need to feed Felix.

He doesn’t want her blood.

He can’t have mine because I’m too scared to cut myself.

I look down at my arm, wondering if I could bite into my own skin. I try it, sinking my teeth into the flesh of my forearm, but let out a whine when it starts to hurt.

Yeah, okay, that’s not going to happen.

Think, Zia. Think! You’re a freaking demon. How are you not able to think of what to do here?

But then it hits me, and I turn to the girl with a smirk. I hurry toward her, pressing the knife to her throat again.

“You need to die.”

Her eyes widen even further, and then I push the knife into her throat. It goes in with ease, and a shiver runs up my spine as the satisfaction of her warm blood pouring over my hand and the life leaving her eyes.

I love a good slow killing, but Felix is depending on me, so I have to make it quick.

It doesn’t take long for her body to slump over. Which is when I realize all this blood is going to waste. I hurry to the kitchen again, slipping on the now blood-covered floor, but thankfully don’t fall. I grab a coffee mug and hurry back and wait for it to fill from the gash in her neck.

Then I stare at it.

Is he really going to know she was dead when I got this?

Or does it need to sit for a while?

How long does it need to sit for? Does he like it hot? Room temperature? Cold?

I place it on the end table, then stare at the girl and the mess I made.

Shit. I wasn’t supposed to kill anyone else.

It takes a while, but I’m finally able to coax Felix awake, though just barely. His eyes blink open a few times and he’s weak.

“Drink, drink!” I say quickly, holding the mug in front of his face. He stares at it for a long moment and blinks some more until his eyes focus.

“Wha…” he mutters.

“I did this for you,” I say, stepping to the side. “Since you didn’t like her alive. I killed her even though I’m not supposed to kill anyone so you can feed.”

His brow furrows, and he turns his head toward the girl. They widen, his mouth opens and I hurry to pour the dead girl’s blood into his mouth, but he sputters on it and spits it out. He lets out some kind of whining sound and shakes his head.

Then his body goes limp again.

This is turning out to be way more trouble than it’s worth. He’s been here a few hours now and has barely spoken any words to me. In fact, he’s being rather ungrateful, now that I think about it. Look at this damn mess!

With a sigh, I put the mug on the end table and work on untying the girl. When she’s free, I drag her lifeless body into the bathroom and drop her into the tub. Then I hunt down my phone and call Kiza, who thankfully shows up twenty minutes later.

He stands in the doorway of the bedroom, taking in the scene.