Page 41 of Suck This

It was heavier than I’d expected.

A darker red, too.

“Hurry,” Pavlov griped.

I narrowed my eyes and hurried, all the while keeping my annoyed look on my face and aimed at the rude man.

“Here,” I retorted.

Constantine took it, ripped the top off, and drank it like a vampire version of a fucking Capri Sun sans straw.

I watched Constantine’s throat work instead of concentrating on the fact that he was sucking down blood as fast as I downed the sugary kids’ drink.

And then frowned when, once finished, he immediately ripped open his vein again with his mouth and returned his wrist to Chen’s still not drinking—at least that’s what I assumed he was supposed to do—mouth.

“Fuck!” Constantine cried when the blood continued to pour out the sides of Chen’s mouth.

I really, really wished I could figure out what the hell he was supposed to be doing. All it looked like to me was that Constantine was draining himself dry over a dead man’s mouth.

“Need more blood.” Constantine gave me a look.

I licked my dry lips.

“There was no more,” I murmured. “Is there somewhere else I can go get you some?”

All three men cursed long and loud.

I bit my lip.

“He’s gone, Con. Just let him go.”

Constantine’s head dropped. He looked absolutely defeated.

Then, like the dumbass I was, I offered my own blood up for the taking.

“You can use me,” I murmured hesitantly, then offered up my throat with a tilt of my head. “Here.”

I don’t know what made me say it.

Fear. Horror. Pity for the man that looked so defeated.

Whatever the reason, I was ready and willing to offer up my vein to the man.

And did.

Constantine looked at me.

“It doesn’t turn you.”

I blinked.

“I know,” I said, surprised that my voice was so sure when all I wanted to do was leave.

I couldn’t leave, though.

Not with some man that was so nice to me lying near the brink of life and death.

“It might hurt.”