“I was scared the first time I saw you,” she explained. “Afterward, I was distracted and then very il .”
“You’re not scared now?”
“You’re being very careful that I won’t be.”
His mouth curved and her breath caught.
“You’re…very attractive,” she admitted. “I’d forgotten how young you appear.”
Leaning forward, he set his elbows on his knees and got to the most pressing point. “You drank from me once before. Wil you do so again?”
“Why?”
“You need to eat. Fledglings are easily damaged by lack of blood. It’s been too long between feedings and you’ve given some of your blood away.”
“That’s not what I meant. I know why I should want to, but I don’t know why you would.”
Syre looked down, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t know. It’s a combination of things, I suppose. You’re as close as I’l ever be to Shadoe. Until I pass on.”
“I’m not Shadoe.” Her voice was soft and compassionate, earning his appreciation and respect.
“I’ve heard some families of organ donors keep in touch with the transplant recipients.” He glanced up at her. “There’s a bond there, whether it’s real or imagined.”
“Is that healthy?”
It was his turn to shrug. “Who can say? There’s something else, though, that would lead me to make this same offer. I Changed you, Lindsay. In that respect there’s no doubt I sired you.”
The space between her brows was marred by a frown. “How long does that sense of obligation last?”
“I real y can’t say. I’ve only Changed two individuals in my life: Shadoe, who didn’t complete the transformation, and you, who won’t if you don’t feed.”
Her eyes widened. “Only two of us? How is that possible? There are so many vampires.”
“If each vampire infected just one other person, our numbers would be great. Of course, there are those who Change far more than one.” His mouth curved wryly. “Are you disappointed I’m not more evil?”
“Not disappointed, but I’m struggling with it. Not just about you but about al vampires in general.”
“Adrian’s brainwashing.”
“Adrian has nothing to do with it. Vampires kil ed my mother in front of me. They held me down…made me watch as they brutalized her.” A violent shiver moved through her, fol owed by the immediate stiffening of her posture. “My feelings about vampires are my own, based on my own truths and experiences.”
Syre reached for her hand and was pleased when she let him take it. “There are minions who lose their sanity with the Change. They’re the most responsible for the spread of vampirism, not the Fal en.”
“We were on a picnic in the park on a cloudless day. They were either Fal en or the kept pets of one—or more—or they couldn’t have tolerated the sunlight.”
He inhaled sharply. “Tel me everything.”
“Why? I’m not Shadoe,” she said again. “Stil , I feel…a connection to you. I have memories of you and her together that feel like they’re mine. It’s messing with my head.”
“So is blood loss.” Sinking his fangs into his wrist, he stood and came around her, setting one hand on her head and lifting his bleeding wound to her mouth.
She might have been able to refuse him if he’d expected her to make the punctures herself. But with the coppery scent of blood fil ing her nostrils, her instincts kicked in and she was too much of a fledgling to fight them. Cupping the back of his wrist with both hands, she drank greedily, her eyes rol ing back in her head before she closed them.
He would’ve preferred she ingest more than she did, but somehow she found the fortitude to pul away. He admired her strength of wil . Most fledglings that hungry would’ve had to be ripped away for the safety of the donor.
“Better?” he asked.
Nodding, she licked her lips. Already the unnatural brightness of her eyes was softening and a healthy flush stained her cheeks. “Thank you.”