in the doorway of the training room and wiped a bloody tear from her eye. I’d forgotten I had asked her to meet me in the training room for a rematch.
“How long have you been standing there?” Levi growled.
“Long enough,” she replied. “I’m sorry.”
“For?” Levi asked coolly.
“You,” she said.
The stare they exchanged made me slightly uncomfortable. What was happening here?
“Don’t be,” Levi said in a harsh tone. “My existence has nothing to do with your fragile emotions.”
Anastasia’s mood changed abruptly. Her pity disappeared and she glared at Levi with cold animosity. “My emotions are not fragile, Demon. But apparently yours are.”
“You know nothing of me,” he hissed.
“Thank God for small favors,” she muttered.
The standoff was interrupted by a sweet Vampyre dressed in a hot-pink cape with a large ruby broach at the neck.
Vinnie held a large box in one hand and waved excitedly with the other. “Am I interrupting?” he asked.
“No,” I said, glancing between Anastasia and Levi. The dislike was white-hot. “You’re a very welcome distraction right now, Vinnie.”
“Wonderful!” Vinnie gushed as he floated into the training room and landed right in front of me. “Oh dear.” He gently touched my swollen and bloody face. “Would you care for a bottle of blood to aid in your healing?”
I really didn’t want to be rude, but the thought of bottled blood was flat-out gross. “Umm… whose blood is it?”
“Mine of course,” Vinnie said with a smile, placing the box carefully on the floor. “Over the centuries, I’ve developed an enchanted icebox—so to speak. It keeps the blood at a temperature that ensures it doesn’t spoil. I have found that blood ages like fine wine. The older the better—and more powerful.”
There were so many things wrong with all of his statements, but there was no way I would make the old Vamp feel bad. Just like the puppies he wanted to save, Vinnie was my new stray puppy. Kicking a puppy was not in my repertoire.
“Maybe later,” I said, trying to let him down gently. “I have some ass to kick on the West Coast.”
Vinnie ignored me and pulled out a bottle. “Looks like some ass was already kicked,” he pointed out. “And this batch is special. I have heard through the grapevine that you are partial to hot salsa and tortilla chips.”
“The grapevine?” I asked suspiciously. Was Vinnie a rag magazine reporter?
“Martha and Jane told me,” he explained.
“You know Martha and Jane?” I asked, confused.
Levi chuckled. “Everyone knows Martha and Jane,” he reminded me.
The old bags certainly got around.
“Oh yes,” Vinnie confirmed. “I’ve taken a pole-dancing class from the lovely gals—very dangerous, but quite fun.”
I’d pretty much heard everything now. I had no clue they were running a business on the side endangering lives on a pole.
Vinnie held the bottle of blood out to me. The sunlight streaming through the large windows caught the glass. It sparkled with magic and called out to me in a strange way.
Vinnie cleared his throat and bowed. “In honor of you and your compassionate care for our kind, I have created flavored blood. This is chips and extra-hot salsa.”
“Shut the front fucking door,” I shouted out, staring at the bottle in shock. “For real?”
“For realsies,” Vinnie said with a giggle. “I’d be happy to taste test before you drink it so you feel comfortable.”
Anastasia crossed the room quickly and stared at the bottle with as much fascination as I did.
“Is there food in it?” she asked, confused.
“No, no, no,” Vinnie assured her. “Magic.”
I was wildly tempted, but I had a seriously full and deadly agenda for the rest of the day. I couldn’t risk being in the fetal position for a week.
“How much blood do you have stored?” Anastasia questioned.
“Several thousand bottles in my warehouse,” Vinnie told her. “All different flavors. Of course, there is straight blood as well for those who prefer it.”
Levi had turned a little green with all the blood talk. Demons didn’t drink blood. They freaking got to eat food. My brother had no clue how exciting this was to Anastasia and me. It was a game changer.
“Fuck it,” I said. Taking the bottle from Vinnie, I opened it and gave it a sniff. It smelled heavenly.
Anastasia’s eyes grew wide as I lifted the bottle to my lips. If the blood tasted like it smelled and didn’t make me grow another head, it was a win. While I was aware that I was living on the edge, my gut instinct told me it was fine to drink Vinnie’s invention. My