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I watch them for a moment more before I see Declan and Eli approaching.

Eli grabs a beer from the middle of the table, and Hazel stands up and slaps him hard on the back.

"Heyyyyyyy," she says. "What's up, Big E?"

He grimaces like he's in pain, then leans over and hugs Hazel. "Ready to get the fuck out of here," he tells her before plopping down on the couch.

"Yeah," she says. "I think we've all been ready to be home for a while."

"You're Teagan, right?" he says. "I'm Eli. Welcome to the shitshow. May the odds be ever in your favor."

He tips his beer toward me, and the other two laugh, but given what I know already, I'm not sure that's funny, so I don't join in.

"Stop," Hazel laughs.

"Teagan."

I recognize the voice well enough by now to know it's Declan who's calling my name, but still, I hope I'm wrong when I look up.

He's leaning against the railing, staring at me, emotionless. He inclines his head when my eyes meet his, gesturing for me to come to him.

I hesitate for only a second, thinking about how if any other man tried to summon me like this in any other bar, it wouldn'tmatter how big his biceps were or how nice his chest looked in a tight v-neck shirt—I'd kick that mother fucker in the knees. But now, for him, I force myself to stand and then my feet to move until I meet the enigma himself and lean against the railing next to him.

"I heard you might have some questions for me," he says.

…Is he serious?

"I have…nothing but questions. But are you actually going to answer them?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Maybe. If I feel like it. I'll give you three."

"Okay…" I go through my mental Rolodex and try to pull out one of my more basic questions—something he might actually answer. "Why is it that I can't talk to Luca, but you said it was fine for him to go fuck River, Hazel, or anyone else at that party as long as he doesn't talk to them?"

"Because," he starts. "Everyone has a drug of choice. Luca's drug of choice…is love."

I furrow my brow, not quite catching his meaning. "Okay…I'm still not sure what the problem is."

If this is going to be how he answers all of my questions, I should just go sit the fuck down.

"The problem is that for him, itisa drug. He's obsessed with the idea of it, and he takes it too far every fucking time. He lets it control him, and it makes him absolutely insane. He can't handle it. He can fuck the girls because they won't fall in love with him. River and Hazel are too in love with each other, and Layla and Alana know better. He can fuck a random bloodslut as long as he never talks to them again. No exchanging phone numbers, no DMs. It's for his own good, and he knows it."

I think again of Bridget and Heidi. "What did he do?" I ask.

"I told you already—he took shit too far. Next question."

"What's with the blood?" I ask.

"Do you really want me to tell you?" he asks. "It's better if you experience it, and you will experience it a lot over the next few days."

He must mean when wego home. "I like to have an idea of what I'm getting myself into."

"But you're intrigued by it," he says. "I can tell. I saw you at the show, and when you thought I was going to slice you open in your hotel room. Your eyes went wide, your pupils dilated, and I could see it…your pulse on your neck…racing."

He isn't wrong. And it was. It also shouldn't have made me wet, but it did. It's making me wet again now.

"Yes," I tell him.

"Blood drinking is kind of history's dirty little secret," he says. "We don't talk about it now because you're not supposed to do it. It's forbidden or taboo—they'll even tell you that it's poisonous, but that's only true if you consume large quantities daily. The truth is…there's endless power in it."