Page 103 of Bite

“No,” Elliott says, voice even. “The bond is self-sustaining, provided there’s at least occasional physical contact between you two. The more frequent, the stronger the link becomes. You’re human, so your blood regenerates naturally. James, however, will need to continue feeding from you to maintain the full benefits. Given the strength of this bond already, he should be able to go weeks without a direct feed and still retain them.”

I watch Taylor absorb this, her expression a flicker of relief, confusion, and something dangerously close to hope.

I clear my throat. “You’re certain?”

He inclines his head. “The evidence is right there,” he says, gesturing toward the still-glowing vials. “But understand, this comes with risk. If word of it spreads, you’ll become targets. And if either of you die, the tether severs.” He fixes his gaze on me, expression cold. “In the event of Taylor’s death, you’ll lose your enhanced abilities, and in the event of yours, Taylor will lose the benefit of immortality. She’ll age and eventually perish.”

“Wonderful,” I deadpan. “A two-for-one special on existential dread.”

Taylor elbows me lightly. “At least we go together, right?”

“Romantic,” I mutter, though it gives rise to a tug in my chest that has nothing to do with humor and everything to do with her.

Dr. Faulkner starts methodically packing away his supplies, glass clinking. Taylor watches him, her brows knitting. Curiosity hums through the bond, warm and electric.

“Can I ask you something?” she murmurs.

He glances up. “Go ahead.”

“What happened to Anna? Did you… is she…” She trails off, eyes searching his.

Elliott just stares.

“I think she’s asking whether you’ve killed her,” I remark, lips tipping in an amused smirk.

Annoyance flashes across his face “No,” he answers, clipped. “She’s very much alive and well. Just not part of my orbit anymore.”

Taylor frowns, looking to me for confirmation.

I sling an arm around her shoulders and draw her in closer. “Eli has never been good with people,” I tell her. “He can’t keep a donor for more than a few months.”

“It’s not my fault they’re all insufferable,” he mutters.

My smirk deepens. While my friend has a brilliant mind, his social skills are catastrophic. His world runs on equations and hypotheses; emotions are an inconvenience he’s never learned to solve. Most mortals can barely stand him for a week, let alone longer.

He finishes packing up, closing the briefcase with a sharp click before standing. “I’ll leave you to it,” he sighs. “As much as I’d love to stay and socialize, I have other projects demanding attention.”

“Let me know when you’re ready for another donor,” I say, tipping my head toward him. “I’m sure we’ve got a few on the roster at Bite who can tolerate your particular brand of charm.”

“Not likely,” he mumbles. “Though I’ll need another eventually. Blood bags are a poor substitute for the real thing.”

“You sound just like James,” Taylor comments.

His gaze flicks to me, then back to her. “I suppose we’re all monsters of habit.” He tucks the briefcase under an arm. “If you notice any further developments, keep me informed. I’m very interested to see how this progresses.”

“Like what?” She asks.

He pauses, considering. “Well, ancient texts suggest that some bonded pairs developed additional abilities. Telekinesis, premonitions, telepathy...”

“Telepathy?” she repeats, wide-eyed.

The faintest smile ghosts across his lips. “If he starts reading your mind, you might want to invest in privacy measures.”

With that parting shot, he sweeps out of the library, the echo of his footsteps fading down the hall.

Taylor sinks back into the sofa cushions with a satisfied sigh, limbs draping lazily. She tilts her head toward me, wearing a look that can only be described as pure smugness.

“So, I guess it’s official,” she declares. “You’re stuck with me.”