"If drinking is so problematic, so risky to humans, why allow it? Why not remove the risk and outlaw drinking altogether? Make everyone use the bagged stuff? Then there's no politics to allowing the raves. You could outright ban them."
Ethan was quiet long enough that I turned back to him, and found him staring at me with eyes of pure, melting quicksilver.
My lips parted, the breath stuttering out of me.
"Because, whatever the politics of it, we are vampires." Ethan parted his lips, showed me the needle-sharp tips of his fangs.
I was shocked to the core that he let me see him in full hunger, shocked and aroused by it, and when he tipped his head down, silvered eyes boring into me, I swallowed down a rise of lust so thick and swift it tripped my heart.
The sound of my heartbeat, the hollow thud of it, pounded in my ears.
Ethan held out a hand, palm up, an invitation.
Offer yourself, he whispered, his voice in my mind.
I gripped the handle of my katana. I knew what I wanted to do - step forward, arch my neck, and offer him access.
For a second, maybe two, I considered it. I let myself wonder what it might be like to let him bite. But my control, already weakened by the smell of blood, threatened to tip. If I let my fangs descend, if I let her take over, there was a good chance I'd end up sinking them into the long line of his neck, or letting him do the same to me.
And while I wasn't na?ve enough to deny that I was curious, intrigued by the possibility, this was neither the time nor the place. I didn't want my first real experience in sharing blood to be here in the midst of industrial squalor, in a house where the trust of humans had so recently been violated.
So I fought for control, shaking my head clear. "Point made," I told him.
Ethan arched a brow as he snatched back his hand, clenching his fist as he regained his own control. He retracted his fangs, and his eyes cleared, fading from silver to emerald green. When he looked at me again, his expression was clinical.
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
It had all been a teaching point, then. Not about desire or bloodlust but an opportunity for Ethan to demonstrate his restraint. I felt ridiculously na?ve.
"Our reaction to blood," Ethan matter-of-factly began, "is predatory. Instinctual. While we may need to seclude our habits, assimilate into the larger population of humans, we are still vampires. Suppression favors none of us."
I looked around the room at the peeling paint, balled-up newspapers, spare mattresses, and crimson dots scattered across the splintered hardwood floor.
"Suppression leads to this," I said.
"Yes, Sentinel."
I was Sentinel again. Things were back to normal.
We searched the room but found no indication of Houses or anything else that might identify the drinking vamps. They'd avoided leaving obvious evidence behind, which wasn't all that surprising for folks who would travel to a deserted house in exchange for a few illicit sips.
"We know humans were here," Ethan said, "that blood was taken. But that's it. Even if we called someone in, without more evidence of what went on, the only thing to come from further investigation would be bad press for us."
I assumed Ethan meant he wasn't willing to involve the CPD in the rave investigation. I didn't disagree with him, especially since Catcher was here on behalf of the Ombud's office. On the other hand, if Ethan was really that comfortable suppressing information, he probably wouldn't have bothered justifying it to me.
"I guess that makes sense," I said.
"The locus," Ethan suddenly said, and I frowned in confusion, thinking I'd missed something. But he hadn't been talking to me - Catcher and Mallory stood in the doorway behind us. They both looked fine, neither showing any signs of having been accosted by a loitering raver. Catcher's expression was back to his normal one - slightly bored.
Mallory cast uncomfortable glances at the mattresses on the floor.
"Yeah," Catcher agreed, "it looks like the action went down here." He surveyed the room, then walked a loop around it, arms crossed over his chest, face pinched in concentration.
"Three humans?" he finally asked.
"That's what it looks like," Ethan confirmed. "Possibly six vampires, and who knows if there were observers. We found no evidence of Houses."
"Even if House vamps were involved," Catcher said, meeting Ethan in front of the center mattress, "it's unlikely they'd leave