Page 158 of Red Rooster

Nikita extended a hand toward him. His fangs scraped his lip and tongue when he spoke. “Come here, little one, and have some.”

Jamie hesitated, but hunger won out. He took one halting step, and then another, and finally he slid his hand into Nikita’s and let himself be pulled in.

Nikita let go of his hand so he could cup Jamie’s neck, the back of his head, his soft hair. Guided him up to the still man’s throat. “Here. Bite hard.”

He watched with something like fatherly pride as Jamie leaned up on his toes and fastened his fangs into the man’s neck. He waited until the young one had a good grip, was feeding properly, and then dipped his head and pressed his face into the other side of the man’s throat. He felt, and saw, and heard the pulse jumping just beneath the skin. Waited a heartbeat for a guilt that didn’t come, and then bit.

His hand was still in Jamie’s hair, curved protectively around his nape, as he drew hard on the vein that pulsed into his open mouth, and drank.

~*~

Trina was next in line to order at the sandwich counter when the boys all came trooping through the door that connected Subway to the convenience store next door. She looked at them – and then did a double take.

They were all in the same state: eyes fever-bright and too-wide, cheeks flushed, mouths dark and slick, like they’d been licking their lips. They looked drunk, high. Freshly fucked. Jamie’s hair was all rumpled.

They moved loose-limbed and relaxed, long rolling strides that carried them toward the back of the line.

Trina snagged Lanny’s sleeve as he passed her. “What’s with you guys?” she whispered.

He looked at her uncomprehending a moment; his pupils were blown. Then shook his head and grinned a slow, lazy grin that melted her insides. “Miss me?”

She kept her voice firm. “Lanny. What did you do?”

“Nothing that ain’t natural,” he drawled. “Hey, can I cut?” he asked the woman behind her.

“No, you may not,” she said.

Lanny chuckled and shifted out of Trina’s grip. “See you outside, sweetheart.” He went to the back of the line to join the others.

Jamie stood with his shoulder pressed against Nikita’s arm, leaning on him.

Alexei licked at something on his thumbnail, content and pleased with himself.

The tableau they made: like every eighties vampire movie, Kiefer Sutherland with his mullet and eye makeup. Like…

It clicked into place for her then: they’d fed.

She turned away from them, jaw clenched, hands curling into fists. What had she expected? They’d come down here with nothing but old blood packed in a cooler. They’d behaved beautifully at her family’s place. They were about to walk into very real battle, and they had to feed. She knew all of this. Logically.

But emotionally, she felt something shake loose inside her. It felt like fright, so she stubbornly told herself it was anger.

She ordered her sandwich and chips and drink, and went to sit out in the dark on a picnic table to eat them. She forced each bite down, appetite gone.

When the guys emerged a few minutes later, Alexei was laughing at something Lanny said, head tipped back so the halogens caught the gleam of fangs still extended. She felt her body coil and tense, ready for flight, as they trooped over and sat down around her, opposite her, beside her. They seemed to emit more heat than normal humans; she swore she smelled blood, though it had to be her imagination, because there wasn’t a speck on any of them anywhere.

“You shouldn’t sit out here alone,” Nikita scolded, and took a huge bite of sandwich, spoke around it. “It’s dangerous.”

She set down her own food and passed a glance around to the four of them. “Dangerous,” she deadpanned. “Right.”

Jamie had the grace to blush and look down into his Doritos.

Nikita’s stare was a challenge.

Lanny said, “Aw, come on, what did you think was gonna happen? And they were totally rapist motherfuckers.”

“They…what?”

Beside her, Alexei laid a soothing hand on her arm; she fought not to twitch out from under it. “Do not worry, Ekaterina.” His accent was especially pronounced; he sounded drowsy and sated, and very, very Russian at the moment. “We surprised two fiends in the act of assaulting young girls. They did not suffer, and it was well-deserved. And now we are fed.” He smiled broadly, a fleck of mustard on his lip. “Everyone wins.”