Page 5

Chapter 5

DONTTRUSTME

HANS

“I know what you’re thinking, and I won’t allow it,” Gerrit hisses.

“Why not?” I throw my hands out, imploring him to understand. “She’s of no use to us if she dies, Gerrit. She cannot help us in her current state.”

The image of Briar sliding out of the chair, unconscious, will haunt me. When I first sighted her today, I thought she looked unwell, but I had no idea it was this dire.

Over a year without a meal? How is she even alive?

“She said she has killed those she fed from because she was so starved!” he growls at me. “What do you believe will happen to you after so long without sustenance?”

“Good thing I have my big, strong stepbrother here to pull the waif of a witch off me before I perish,” I say, patting him on the cheek.

As soon as I cross the threshold of the home, Flint is in front of me, begging to talk. I sink on the couch next to where Briar still sits, with an odd expression on her face. She doesn’t flinch as the cushions move beside her. Flint follows me, perching dutifully at my feet.

The witch opens her mouth, about to speak, when I hold up a finger. “One moment, Briar.” I bury my hands in Flint’s fur and close my eyes, embracing the magic that ties us together.

“I am unsure it is wise to have her feed from you, Master. Big Boy is right. She could kill you.” His voice is a cacophony of snarls that my brain somehow translates into the common tongue.

“Between you and Gerrit, nothing will happen to me, Flint. I know you’ll take care of me.” I choose not to respond aloud, instead pushing my words to him psychically. For some reason, the idea of Briar knowing that we doubt her doesn’t sit right with me.

I pull my hands away, unwilling to have someone else talk me out of what I know I need to do.

Briar’s rust-colored eyes are dull as she gazes upon me. She looks like a broken doll, and I long to put her pieces back together. Whatever life she is living cannot be one of quality. She said she’s been here centuries but can’t have aged more than thirty years. I wonder if, on top of the pain of living alone and in starvation, there is some sort of stasis charm on this house to where she will never find the relief of death.

I can hardly imagine another fate so cruel.

In my perusal of her figure, I am drawn to the curve of her breasts as they threaten to fall out of the threadbare and oversized dress, and her nipples press desperately against the fabric. When I raise my head to meet her eyes, she dons a smug smile, and I know I’ve been caught gawking.

Turning sideways to face her entirely, I steeple my hands in front of my abdomen. Gerrit has stomped into the house by this point, grumbling nonsense that I tune out.“Briar, tell me what your feeding entails.”

Her eyebrows skyrocket to her hairline. “You’d let me feed?” She trembles with poorly restrained excitement.

I hold out a hand. “I’m not sure of that yet. I need to know more about the process.”

She nods eagerly, and I don’t miss the hope that flashes through her expression. “Before you ask, I don’t know why I need to feed on blood. I also don’t know why I can be in my house in the daytime, but if I step outside, it feels like my skin is being pulled off.”

Flint whimpers at my feet.

“I digress. I try eating berries and the meat of rabbits and other animals that get trapped in here with me every so often when I’m really hungry, but it all just turns to ash in my mouth. So, blood it is. Animal will do, but I prefer human. Especially magical blood. I can go a little longer between meals without feeling weak with magical blood.”

She rambles when she speaks, which is typically a habit that I struggle to entertain. But then again, she must never have had anyone to talk to. I try to stay patient, but I can see Gerrit’s frustration buzzing beneath the surface at her inability to answer a direct question.

“Tell me what feeding looks like for you,” I try again.

She’s worrying her nail in her mouth, and I have half a mind to slap it away. “Okay, so like. There are two ways to feed. Way one, I bite a neck or a thigh - a nice hearty vein is best for comfort and speed. And I drink from there. That gets the job done.”

It was as I suspected, then. For some reason, I could not see her willingly cutting someone to bleed into a cup and then sipping it down. “What’s the other way?”

Her face flushes, and for the first time, I realize that feeding may be an intimate activity for her. It makes sense if I think about it logically. She is taking someone’s life force into her body. There are bound to be some emotions attached to that.

She’s still chewing on her thumb, and this time, I pull it, albeit gently, away from her mouth. She squeaks a little in shock. “The second way, Briar?” I say, eyes locked on hers.

“Sex.”

Gerrit’s throat clearing turns into a coughing fit. I think that is the last thing he expected her to say. I attempt to keep my composure, but now I am imagining her splayed out in front of me on a bed, and the image is more alluring than I expected. “Explain.” My voice is as tight as my pants.

She narrows her eyes at me, “You need me to explain sex? Aren’t you, like, a grown man?” She moves her hand to wave me away, and I snatch her wrist. My fingers overlap, and though I want to squeeze to get her attention, I know she is too fragile for that.

Briar whines and attempts to pull her hand away, but I hold firm. Eventually, she slumps with a resigned sigh. “Okay, okay. If I drink from someone, I can feel fine for, like, two weeks? Three if they have magic, sometimes four. If I fuck them, I get maybe a week. But if I feed while fucking? That can get me two moons before I want to die sometimes.”

Having cleared his coughing fit, Gerrit finally moves to sit on the other side of Briar. “What do you mean by feel fine?”

She shrugs. “My mood is better, and my body is stronger. My magic isn’t at full strength the whole time. That only lasts a day or two, kind of like how any living creature has to eat. But for a bit there, I feel almost normal.” She chews on her lip and looks at the ceiling of her prison. More talking to herself than us, she continues. “I always have wondered what I’d be like if I got to feed more. It’s not like I’ve ever had regular meals. I’m just doing what I must to survive, you know? But what would I be like if I could eat when hungry? I’ve tried to do that several times, but I’ve always been too hungry to pace myself, so none of my friends survived long enough to find out. I’ve tried just sex a few times, but I always lose control and go for the blood. I fantasize about who I want to be but know I’ll never get there. I think this is all there is for me.”

Her words finally reach her ears, and she sits straight up, realizing what she admitted to us. Shame radiates off her in waves.

I exchange a glance with Gerrit, whose eyes give me a look that needs no translation. He does not want me anywhere near this witch. But this isn’t about him.

“Okay, Briar. You can feed from me.”

She looks up at me, eyes wide. “Wait. Really? I could kill you. Aren’t you worried I’ll kill you?”

I jut my thumb toward Gerrit. “He likes to watch.” He reaches over and smacks me on the back of the head, and I choke out a laugh. “What I mean is, he’ll make sure to stop you if you look like you are losing control.”

Her eyes bounce between us, and the hunger I see in her eyes looks familiar. I’ve seen it in the tavern when the women have just enough ale to get brave. “Just the blood, then?” she whispers, tongue darting across her lips and toying with her sharp canines.

I gulp, the feeling growing in my belly a potent mix of fear and arousal.

I wonder if this is a bad idea.

The odds are not insignificant that I won’t survive.

But if I want to help Father, I need her. And if she is to help me, I need to feed her.

“Where do you prefer to feed?” I ask, trying to calm the waver in my voice.

“Here is fine,” she mumbles, moving off the couch and kneeling before me. My cock twitches at the sight, and I remind myself that this is just a feeding.

Clinical.

Before I can question what she’s doing, she gestures to my pants. “The thigh, please?” Her voice is so small and desperate that I stand and step out of my trousers reflexively. I don’t even think of questioning why that vein is the one she desires rather than another. I stand before her in my boxer shorts, and she runs her hand up my thighs slowly, searching for the spot her teeth crave. She finds it quickly, her fingers stopping just below my balls at the top of my thigh.

She gestures to the couch, and I sit down, letting her push my knees apart. My cock goes rigid against my undershorts, but she does me a kindness by pretending not to notice.

Her pointed pink tongue darts out of her mouth and licks her lips, and her eyes gleam with a nearly feral hunger that almost has me second-guessing this decision.

Then she lowers her face to my leg, and I feel her hot breath against my flesh as her teeth penetrate my skin. The pain is quickly followed by the most exquisite pleasure I’ve ever experienced.