Page 29 of Blood as Sweet as Roses

Crimson

A sense of unease lingers in my chest as Murad and I go down the stairs toward the lounge.

I’m irritated with him for evoking it in me.

Becoming the king of my clan was supposed to be enjoyable.

The satisfying conclusion to centuries of hard work and service.

I don’t want to be forced to dwell on things the way Murad always seems to.

And what did he mean, that thing about blood and roses? I’m perfectly satisfied with my existence. It can be difficult, yes, and dangerous, but that’s the price I have to pay to sustain my power.

And he knows…he knows the reason I can’t allow myself to get closer to anyone. Especially a breather. Even a beautiful, intriguing one like Paige.

Not that I’m scared of some bullshit witch whisperings.

But it’s better not to tempt fate. I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am.

Murad takes a look around the lounge, but there’s no Eloise there.

“Probably in the kitchen,” he says.

“I’ll come with you,” I tell him, following him down the corridor. “I wanted to ask her about the security for the breathers. If Oana can stake a vampire, she could easily get her hands on one of the donors. And I don’t need that sort of mess with the city.”

Murad raises an eyebrow. “Ah, yes, that’s why you’re so concerned about the security of our breathers. Because it would be bad for optics.”

I roll my eyes, but don’t respond.

Ok, yes, it’s also because I want Paige to be safe. She’s gorgeous, and absolutely perfect…as a submissive blood donor, and nothing more.

It would be a hassle to find another. I’m not getting attached. I’m just…protecting my resources.

As though summoned by the thought, a glorious smell assaults my nostrils.

The sweet, rose-scent of Paige’s blood.

And the hummingbird flutter of her delicate heart.

“Hello,” she whispers. She must be coming in from the garden. There’s a beautiful bloom of goosebumps across her arms, and her cheeks are flushed pink. I always forget how the cold affects living humans.

“Good evening,” I reply, an urgent hunger stirring inside me. Does she know how she throws me off my guard? Does she know that she has this affect on me?

My eyes travel over her body. She wears a cream dress tonight, rouched over her bodice and hips. There’s a dark red tint across her lips, and her wavy black hair is pulled back to one side.

I can’t stop myself from imagining her with the collar around her neck, on her knees…

But before I can say anything further, Eloise’s voice interrupts from inside the kitchen.

“Murad, Crimson!” she calls. “What are you both doing here?”

“I hope you don’t mind, we wanted to speak with you for a moment,” Murad says. Although the look in his eye makes it very clear that he’s here to see her. Eloise gives him a long, lingering gaze. It seems the affection isn’t one-sided.

“Not at all, I was just tasting some appetizers,” Eloise replies. “Please, come in.”

Murad steps inside the kitchen.

“You should join us,” I tell Paige. “Help Eloise taste the appetizers.”

“That’s a job I’m happy to do,” she replies, following us into the kitchen. “Will you have some?”

“I can’t consume normal sustenance,” I answer, a little surprised she doesn’t know that. Most donors we hire are more familiar with the magical world, but it often seems like Paige just dropped in out of nowhere.

Still, it’s understandable. I imagine that most humans are unaware of vampire biology.

“Oh,” Paige replies, with a frown. “That’s awful, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I would do if I couldn’t eat ice cream anymore.”

“No need for apologies,” I reply, with a sly smile. “Ice cream could never compare to the delectable taste of your sweet blood.”

It’s so easy to make her blush. And yet it brings me such joy.

“Here, Paige, try these ones,” Eloise says, saving her from her own shyness.

She hands Paige a tray of appetizers, little bundles of bread and herbs.

I have no idea what it’s called, and I really don’t care.

I can barely recall what food used to taste like, used to smell like.

My vast range of vampiric senses have completely canceled out all of my taste memories.

But Paige seems to enjoy them. She makes a delightful sound of pleasure as she tries them. It’s very distracting…in the best possible way.

“These ones are all right, but those ones are a little overdone,” Eloise instructs one of the chefs. He nods, and brings her another plate. Eloise turns back to me. “Sorry, it’s been a busy night! What can I help you with?”

Eloise is one of the few human members of the Night clan who doesn’t seem absolutely terrified of me at all times. I don’t know if I like it or not. But it’s certainly refreshing to have a human around who isn’t constantly quivering and anxious. At least I know she’ll be honest with me.

So I’ll give her the same honesty. I respect her time, and I get right to the point.

“There have been recent…vampiric threats to the security of our clan. While I have no direct reason to be concerned, I want to ensure the safety of our living staff. Are there any additional measures we can take?”

“Inside the mansion, or outside of it?” Eloise asks.

“Both, to be thorough.”

“Well…” Eloise thinks. “Our drivers are already supernatural, mostly wolf shifters. We could have them double up just in case there’s an attack…”

“We could pair up the shifters with witches,” Murad suggests. “Put them in shifts.”

“And I’d like them monitoring outside the staff rooms as well,” I add. “Especially at night, but we can add vampires to those shifts.”

Eloise nods, and pops an appetizer from another tray into her mouth. Tiny little balls of meat on sticks. Paige has already tasted two.

It’s wonderful, watching her enjoying something. Perhaps I should…take her out to dinner. It’s been a long time since I did something like that. I like to reward my breathers, that’s all that it would be.

I imagine her seated across from me at a table, in a dimly-lit corner of a little bistro…

“Eloise?” Murad asks, sharply. “Are you all right?”

My eyes snap back to Eloise. She’s blinking rapidly, her nostrils flared. A sudden waft of adrenaline emanates from her skin, and her breathing is ragged. She drops the toothpick on the ground, and reaches for her throat.

“Eloise!” Paige gasps.

“What’s happening to her?” Murad demands. “Is it a spell?”

Eloise gasps for air, her cheeks flushing. She points desperately at the appetizers.

“The meatballs…” Paige says, her eyes widening. “She’s have an anaphalactic reaction!”

“A what reaction?” I snap, my nerves on high alert. Murad and I make eye contact. I’ve never seen anything like this. My hand instinctively goes to the dagger at my side, but I don’t know if it’s of any use in this situation.

“Eloise, where’s your epipen?” Paige asks her, her voice anxious but firm.

Eloise’s heart is pounding powerfully in her chest. She looks toward her purse, which is sitting on one of the kitchen counters. Paige grabs it and ruffles through it frantically, tossing pens, keys and lipsticks onto the ground.

“It’s…it’s not here!” she says, fear in her voice.

But she’s surprisingly grounded, for such a stressful situation. Unlike Murad and I, who are both standing in the middle of the kitchen, staring at Eloise helplessly.

Murad’s fangs elongate, and he brings his wrist up to his lips.

“That won’t work,” Paige argues, understanding what he’s planning. “Her throat has swelled and blocked her airway! The blood won’t go down.”

“Then what do we do?” I ask, feeling unusually helpless. I can hear the slowing beat of Eloise’s pulse, and the way she struggles for breath is difficult to watch. During a battle or attack, I would easily be able to protect her. But I’ve never witnessed anything like this.

Paige turns to one of the servers, who’s watching Eloise with wide-eyed fear. “Call 911 - tell them that someone is having an allergic reaction to shellfish and they need to come immediately!”

The server nods and hurries toward the phone on the kitchen wall.

“They won’t be able to get here in time,” I say, shaking my head. “The nearest hospital is miles away.”

Eloise falls to her knees, unable to stand any longer. Murad crouches behind her, taking her in his arms, holding her helplessly as she struggles for breath.

Paige swallows, but she gets a strange look in her eyes, like she’s decided something. “There…there is something we can do.”

She gestures to me, and we kneel down beside Murad and Eloise.

“I read about this in one of my textbooks,” Paige tells us, pointing at Eloise’s throat. “We can make an airway, by…by puncturing her neck. Do you have any straws?” She asks a nearby server.

“I’ll…I’ll look,” she says, then she rushes over to a counter and starts opening drawers.

“Puncturing her neck?” Murad says, his eyes crimson with stress. He gazes down at Eloise, who’s rapidly fading. Although his fangs are long, I see him hesitate. I understand his concern - neither of us has ever bitten so deep into someone’s throat…and had them survive.

And when I see the way he looks at Eloise, I sense that he deeply cares for her. He holds her tenderly, real fear in his eyes.

My voice is thick as my fangs drop. “I’ll do it,” I tell Paige.

“Here!” the server shouts. She’s gripping a thick, reusable metal straw in one hand. She gives it to Paige. “Will that work?”

“Perfect!” Paige says, clutching the straw.

Then she turns to me, and points at a precise spot on Eloise’s throat. “It’s got to be as clean as you can make it, just below her larynx. You’ll have to puncture her trachea, but don’t go too far. Then I’ll insert the straw.”

“Got it,” I reply. Without thinking about it a moment longer, I act. I bend down over Eloise’s shaking body, and I sink one of my fangs deep into the front of her throat, much deeper than I usually go. I feel it pierce into her windpipe, then I stop. As carefully as I can, I pull my fang out.