Page 2 of Make Me Bleed (Sanctuary #2)

CHAPTER 1

INTERVENTION

DYEA, ALASKA

THREE MONTHS LATER

I ’m so thirsty, fighting a wolf shifter almost seems like a brilliant idea.

Almost .

For centuries, wolves and vamps have been mortal enemies. It was like that long before the initial battle of the Claws and Fangs war, a never-ending skirmish between both of our kinds. Vampires think of wolf shifters as little better than beasts. Wolf shifters consider us ‘corpses’, whether we’re turned vampires or not. Both supernaturally gifted and hard to kill, maybe it was inevitable that we would clash.

I wouldn’t know. Until I followed Bridget to the hidden supernatural sanctuary up north, I’ve never met a wolf shifter. They’re not allowed in Clarity, and up until I requested to go with Bridget, I’ve never left the Fang City.

There was a lot to get used to in Alaska. My instinctive reaction to Conall Hunt’s glower as he and Mayor Lou first greeted Bridget and me is one of them. I’d wanted to hiss and show him my fangs when I sensed his wild beast prowling around inside of him, and only seventy-four years of concealing my vampire side in front of humans had me nodding demurely at the head of security who seemed instantly drawn to Bridget.

Then I met a handful of the solitary vampires who hide up here with their human donors, and that was worse than realizing a lone wolf is responsible for keeping the prey shifters, vamps, and humans living in the small sanctuary safe.

There is no Cadre here. No community, either.

No blood .

Bridget had no choice but to leave Clarity for Alaska. Once she conjured in the Fang City, Thorn refused to let her stay in his territory. He arranged for Bridge to meet with the head of the nearest coven, but it seems as though her type of magic is so unique, even they were hesitant to accept her before my friend got her powers under control.

Considering what happened to the first person who triggered her fire, I understood why they were eager to ship her away from the East Coast in favor of hiding her in the former ghost town-turned-sanctuary…

Me, though? I had my own reasons to join her in Dyea, the biggest being that Peter wouldn’t be able to chase me past the sanctuary’s mystical borders. Plus, a vampire hiding from a human who can’t accept that he isn’t her beloved gave a great cover story to the ‘human’ woman who came along to be my blood donor. Bridget could conceal her witchiness, and I could avoid my relentless stalker.

It sounded like a great plan—until I realized there’s a very real reason why vampires in Dyea bring their donors with them. There aren’t any free veins to tap unless you want to grovel and ask one of the prey shifters. Drinking from another vamp’s donor just isn’t done, so the other humans in Dyea are definitely off-limits to me. No blood bags, either, or blood banks.

No blood for me…

It’s been three months. I tried drinking Bridget once, before she knew she was Conall’s fated mate, and the fire in her veins burned my tongue. I haven’t tried again, convincing myself that—eventually—one of the blood deliveries that Thorn has shipped for me from Clarity to Dyea would arrive.

He’s already confirmed that three were sent, and three were marked delivered by the vampire courier. A fourth is supposedly on its way, but I’m not holding my breath. None of the deliveries have reached Dyea, Conall confirmed for me, and the thirst has gotten so bad lately, not even drinking from the dead prey animals the wolf hunted to feed his mate is slaking the worst of it.

I thought I was getting better at hiding it. A nip there, a sip there, I close my eyes and pretend like snowshoe hare is the finest O. Just enough to keep my throat from aching, my stomach from cramping, and my fangs from digging into my bottom lip.

But Bridget… she knows me better than anyone in Dyea. She might not quite understand the intricacies of having a vampire best friend, but she can tell I’m basically starving only with the thirst, and she’s dragged her mate to my house to stage an intervention.

At least, that’s what she called it when she let herself inside the front door, Conall at her heels like the lapdog that he is around his forever mate. His flat expression tells me that he’d rather be anywhere but here. At the same time, he insists on going wherever Bridget goes so I’m not surprised he’s standing in the corner of the front room, arms crossed over his chest, eyeing me closely.

Then again, considering I have Bridget’s pale wrist shoved under my nose, I also don’t blame him…

“Drink.”

“No, thank you.”

She lets out a frustrated grunt. “Elise, drink.”

I shake my head.

“If this is about me burning you, I’ve got my fire opal necklace.” Bridget taps the hunk of orange crystal hanging over her chest with her free hand. “I’ve tested it with Conall. My blood is a normal temp when I’m wearing this.”

If only that was my main concern. True, the one and only time I attempted to feed from Bridget, it felt like I was drinking hot lava. I’d suspected that Bridge and Conall were fated mates even then, but since he hadn’t made any move to claim her, I thought it was okay to take a sip—until her fire magic sizzled my throat.

The nagging, consistent thirst is so bad lately, it would be worth the blisters running the length of my esophagus just to feel full. But challenging a lone wolf shifter by biting his mate?

I’m not that desperate.

I side-eye Conall, and Bridget catches me.

“Ignore Mr. Grump. Maybe if he realizes that his adorable little scowl isn’t doing anything to convince me to change my mind, he’ll give it up.”

“Red…” he rumbles softly, using his admittedly unimaginative name for the witch.

We both have red hair, though mine is a deeper shade and Bridget’s is a pretty copper-red, and he’s been calling her by that pet name ever since he stopped fooling himself that she was his. Bridge likes it, even if she does tease him with her own nickname for him, and that’s all that matters.

She smiles impishly at him. “What? I already told you. Biting is only sexual when you do it. Not when I’m trying to keep my best friend from starving to death.” Her nose wrinkles as she turns back to me. She draws her hand back. “Hang on. You’re an immortal vamp. Can that actually happen?”

Poor Bridget. Unlike Conall and me and everyone else in Dyea, she is a new supe. She had no idea that she had any magic at all until a witch hunter tried to capture her back in Clarity and it burst out of her in a show of fireworks and flames.

“No,” I assure her. “It’s… not pleasant, but I won’t die from thirst.”

Forget what you’ve learned from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and other pop culture vampires. The only thing that can kill one of us is decapitation. A wooden stake to the heart won’t tickle, but I can heal that. Silver weakens supes, but even that’s survivable; Conall is proof of that since that witch hunter stabbed him all those weeks ago and he’s back to a hundred percent now. Thirst is uncomfortable. I won’t deny that. Still, I’ve made it three months so far.

And maybe the fourth delivery is the charm…

“That’s good to know,” Bridget says, the relief obvious. “I’m still worried about you, Elise.”

I know.

It’s not just my diet, either. After being stabbed, Conall recuperated in the house that I shared with Bridget. I knew they wouldn’t stay long. For one, a wolf shifter heals almost as quickly as a vampire. For another, the large bite on Bridget’s neck told me that Conall finally claimed her as his bonded mate.

I wasn’t surprised about that, either. Bridget didn’t really understand how powerful a mate bond could be—especially between fated mates—but the second Conall actually spoke up and said she was his, I knew that the two would finalize their bond the first chance they got, especially since Bridge could deny her attraction to the rugged beast all she wanted, but I knew better. From the moment she stormed into the house and slammed down the bottles of shampoo and conditioner she picked up at the commissary, complaining that Conall bought her the conditioner, she was a goner.

And then, after he was healed, she was gone. She lives in Conall’s house at the far end of the sanctuary now, though she has an open invitation to visit me whenever she wants. I have the same at their place. We’re still friends, even if she’s now a mated witch with an overgrown wolf for a shadow.

No— no. That’s not fair of me. I’m happy that Bridget found her forever. I’ve been searching for mine for decades without any luck. In fact, one of the bonuses to relocating to Dyea is that I’m not only avoiding Peter. My parents have recently decided that, if I haven’t chosen a mate before my first century, they will find one for me.

I want my beloved. I yearn for him. The one male whose blood sings for me, and who will make me bleed as he claims me with his bite during a vampire’s blood exchange. I was open to choosing a partner who suited me, that I could make my beloved… but after seeing Bridget’s whirlwind of a romance with her fated mate, I have to admit that I want that .

I just… I want blood more—but not bad enough to trigger Conall’s possessive instincts by feeding on his mate.

“I’m—” I start to say fine , but a born vampire can’t lie. Even turned vampires struggle to be deceitful in that way. Untruths lodge in our throat, never making it to our tongue, and I have to admit that I haven’t been fine in a long time. I swallow, then give my head a royal shake. “I’ll be okay. Thorn’s recent shipment should arrive any day now.”

“Mayor Lou knows to be on the look-out,” Conall cuts in, referencing the skunk shifter who is technically in charge of Dyea; ‘technically’ because I figured out almost instantly that Conall truly runs the show here.

Among the shifters, that is. The vampires are a whole other story…

“Have you checked in with Thorn?” asks Bridget. “Asked him if maybe he knows why they keep vanishing?”

I haven’t. Thorn Wilkins has been the leader of the Cadre in Clarity since before I was born. It doesn’t matter that I’m in Dyea. I’m still one of his, and if he discovers that I’m struggling and that the blood deliveries aren’t reaching me? My stay in Alaska will be over. He’ll order me back to Clarity, and I’ll have to go.

I don’t want to go. So Bridget doesn’t need me. So she’s happy with her mate, and I’m hoping that Peter finally gave up on me over the last three months. I’m not ready to return to Clarity. I can’t quite explain it, but I have this sense that Dyea isn’t done with me yet.

If it was just Bridget here, I’d explain it to her—but my vampire pride has me holding back with the wolf shifter in the room.

“I’ve asked him to switch couriers,” is what I say instead. “Obviously, the other ones aren’t making it past the borders that protect the sanctuary. Hopefully the next delivery will.”

Mimicking her mate’s pose, Bridget crosses her arms over her chest. “Do you need Conall to hunt you more bunnies? Because if you won’t drink me, I’ll get you some bunnies.”

My cheeks flush, burning more blood than I can afford to lose. “I can hunt on my own, Bridge.”

Conall makes a sound that’s suspiciously snort-like.

Bridget’s lips purse as if struggling to hold back a smile.

I pretend not to notice. “It’s May. Almost summer. Do you know how many animals are out in the wild I can tap?”

The wolf’s golden eyes seem to flash. “I do. And I hope you’re not implying that you’re going to leave Dyea in search of them. You know the rules, Elise. You’re safe inside our borders. After that, you’re on your own.”

Unless I’m Bridget and I have a lovesick wolf tracking my every mood, in and out of Dyea, hm?

Now, I love Bridge. I really do. She’s intensely loyal, unapologetically outspoken, and deeply protective of those she loves—including me.

There’s no such thing as subtle with Bridget, though. She’s either all in or not at all, and sometimes she looks at me and wants to solve all of my problems for me.

But I can take care of myself, no matter what. If it’s sipping on a dead hare or finding something a little more.. substantial to drink, I will.

I clasp my hands in my lap and shrug. “There’s enough of the wild inside of the boundary that I won’t have to leave.”

That is true, and I also very clearly did not tell him that I won’t leave if I have to.

On my own?

I know, Conall. I know .