goddammit. I grumbled on my way out. A few minutes later, when we were both in the car, I asked what you’d talked about, and you made up some bullshit about Papa wanting to make sure I had enough to eat.
“You don’t have to lie to me, Henri.”
“How do you know it even had to do with you?” you asked.
“Of course, it had to do with me.” I wasn’t even being self-centered. You two had been talking about me behind my back my entire life.
“Well,” you said, and I glared at you. I hated that shit. I settled into a moody silence, reflecting on my dream share with Mater the night before and how it seemed no one in my life would give me a straight answer. No wonder I had to resort to seduction—that was the only way I could get the truth out of anyone.
At the airport, you drove into what looked like a service road and pointed to the world’s tiniest, most janky-looking airplane.
“That’s your plane?” I knew you’d gotten your pilot’s license because you’d taken me on a few flights, but only recently had you purchased one of your own.
“There she is,” you said proudly. “Picked her up in Panama.”
“Does it even have all of its parts?”
You chuckled. “We’ll be fine. She’s a lot safer than she looks.”
That was reassuring because she looked like a real lemon.
We boarded, and the turbulence was pretty bad at takeoff, but it was actually rather pleasant in the sky. I liked looking at all the fluffy clouds, and at the ground when we could see it. The earmuffs softened the noise to a dull drone. I definitely didn’t anticipate having to pee into an empty water bottle, but when the urge became unbearable, I went ahead and did it.
The flight took forever. With the time change, we arrived at an airstrip in Las Vegas after dinner time. I’d eaten four blood bags, two bananas, three protein bars, and I was still starving. My pits stunk, my hair was greasy, and my skin was likely going to break out. Even though I’d given her a sedative, Spooky was not faring much better.
“Why am I so sore?” I asked as we transferred our luggage to the trunk of a gray Buick already waiting for us in the hangar.
“From tensing your muscles.” Your thumb brushed against my jaw. “Unclench, cucciolo.”
I stared at you, open-mouthed. What the…
“I’m hungry,” I said. If you weren’t going to sex me up, then you could at least feed me.
“I have a place in mind.”
We were out of blood bags, and you hadn’t eaten all day. You could go for a while without blood, but even still, you seemed on edge.
Since it was nighttime already, I thought you’d take me to a dark alley or maybe even a brothel—something super shady—but we ended up at a 24-hour diner called Hash Hut. I didn’t know how to break it to you.
“I meant blood, Henri. I’m hungry for blood.”
Amused, you glanced up from your menu and nodded. “This is merely an appetizer, Vincent. Nearby are several affordable hotels which cater to persons of a transient nature. These types are ideal candidates for your first living bloodmeal—alone, untethered, and unguarded. Take a look around.”
With this new perspective, I was suddenly surrounded by not just people, but potential blood meals. It was a strange mindset—to view humans as legitimate food sources. Dad would have taken the belt to my back for even considering it. I had to remind myself this was how we survived.
I spied a man at the counter whose waistband strained from his girth. A strip of his meaty backside was exposed. I could definitely sink my teeth into that. But wouldn’t it hurt him? The reality of what we were planning to do struck me, and I began to have doubts.
“I don’t know if I can do this.” Even though I was hungry—starving—I couldn’t shut off the voice in my head.
You tilted your head thoughtfully and said in your rich, melodic voice, “It is an intimate experience. To graze your teeth against a stranger’s delicate skin and plunge down, sucking their lifeblood while they pant and gasp, flesh trembling and slick with sweat, blood flowing freely down your throat, drinking in their fear and excitement as you feed.”
Your description was giving me a hard-on. The only thing that got me hornier than thinking about you naked was fantasizing about feeding. “Are you trying to turn me on right now?”