lovely people."
"Oh." Rachel nodded. She then ate in silence, her mind consumed with the thought that people like her family and friends were now her main food source. How icky was that? It was definitely one of the negatives to this deal. She was almost relieved that biting was not allowed any longer. Biting people might be easier and make for fewer dishes, but at least the packaging allowed her to pretend she wasn't eating people. She supposed it was like the difference between buying meat in the grocery store and slaughtering your own cow.
Lissianna opened her gifts after the food was done. She got some lovely things and seemed to really like the cream-colored negligee Rachel had chosen for her.
Beverages were then served--the beverages Rachel had expected all along. Long-stemmed wine goblets full of blood were produced. Rachel took hers but merely held it, not wanting to gag or otherwise embarrass herself in front of these people as she circulated. They were all lovely women, and all too kind to comment on the way her teeth kept popping in and out every time she caught a whiff of blood. The tinny scent didn't appeal to her, but her teeth certainly seemed to like it. Obviously she needed to work on that problem. Etienne had insisted it wasn't as important as learning to actually consume the blood, but Rachel found it rather embarrassing today and decided to talk to him when she returned home that night.
That thought caught her by surprise and made her pause. Home? She'd meant Etienne's home, which wasn't her home. She was becoming far too comfortable there. Perhaps even too comfortable with Etienne himself. The man had saved her life in return for her saving his but, as far as she could tell, that was the only relationship they had. He certainly hadn't shown her anything but friendship and kindness.
Well, that first night he had... but then it had been her who attacked him. And, much to her disappointment, he hadn't acted interested in her since. At least while she was awake. In her dreams, the man came to her every night and tortured her. Erotic kisses and caresses he gave, and all that left her wound up and unsatisfied because they always ended abruptly before Rachel could find satisfaction. It seemed she hadn't quite got the hang of wet dreams yet. She knew they didn't leave Sylvia frustrated and wanting, so she was obviously doing something wrong. Her mind shied from completion for some reason.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Rachel. I hope we see you at the wedding. Are you going?" Jeanne Louise asked.
Rachel tore herself from her thoughts and glanced around in surprise. Everyone was gathering their things and preparing to leave. It seemed the shower was over.
"She's certainly invited," Lissianna announced as she joined them. "And I hope she'll attend."
"It depends on whether we have that other matter cleared up," Marguerite said. Looking thoughtful, she added, "Although, if we were to change her looks somewhat and call her R. J. instead of Rachel, there shouldn't be any trouble with Greg's family recognizing her from the news footage." She nodded. "Yes, we might manage it."
"Good," Lissianna said firmly. She hugged Rachel. "I'd like you to be there. I think we'll be grand friends. Like sisters."
Rachel smiled, but she didn't miss the exchange of glances between Marguerite and Lissianna. She really had to make Etienne teach her the mind-reading business. She felt sure the silent conversations going on here were much more important than the verbal ones.
"Damn!" Rachel slammed the mug of blood down and glared at it furiously. She just couldn't stomach the stuff. She'd managed to work herself up to being able to gulp down a couple swallows, but the taste was so vile and the smell so putrid that her mind and stomach rebelled.
"You're doing better," Etienne assured her. "Soon you'll be able to manage it without a problem."
Rachel glared at him, then stood and paced to the kitchen window to glare out at the starlit night sky. She hadn't been out of the house in the two days since the shower, and it felt like that was weeks ago. She was starting to go stir-crazy, locked up in this house all day and night with nothing to do but read and try to consume blood. She was sick of it. She needed fresh air. She could also use some damned exercise. Her nightly erotic dreams had continued, but still without