Oliver's Hunger - By Tina Folsom Page 0,44

help me and those girls.”

He glanced at her, trying to figure out what she was up to.

“Take the next exit and pull over, please, so we can talk.”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “If you think you can get your way by seducing me, think again. I’m not that gullible.”

She gave him an unexpected smile. “No, you’re not. Even though you’re very cute—for a vampire.”

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off before he could come back with an answer.

“What have you got to lose? Even if I were trying to seduce you, which I’m not, would it be such a hardship? It’s a win-win situation for you. I’m the one who’s risking everything.”

Oliver instinctively let his eyes travel over her body, then lifted them back to her face. “What are you risking?”

“I risk you draining me once you know what my blood is capable of.”

17

Oliver crossed three lanes to veer into the exit lane and get off the freeway. At the next intersection, he turned and found a small side street which led to a copse of trees next to a dilapidated house with a foreclosure sign in its front yard.

He killed the engine, before turning in his seat to face Ursula. Her words had made him more curious than he liked to admit.

“I’m all ears.”

He watched her swallow before she spoke. “There were about a dozen girls. At first we didn’t know why they had captured us. But there were similarities between us. All of the girls were Chinese, originally from mainland China. All of them had been captured in the US. Some were older, some pretty, others not. So we knew it wasn’t beauty they were after. Or youth. It was our blood.”

He nodded, still skeptical about where she was going with this. “Go on.”

“They brought in vampires to feed from us. Two, sometimes three times a night. But during the feedings they kept a close eye on the vampires who fed from us. They made sure they didn’t take too much. But we all noticed a change in them when they stopped drinking from us: they looked delirious, spaced out. As if they were stoned.”

Oliver arched an eyebrow. “Stoned? I’m sorry, but vampires don’t get stoned. We aren’t susceptible to any human drugs. Not to alcohol, coke, or heroine. Nor to pot or anything else.”

She nodded. “I learned that. But nevertheless, the vampires got high—on our blood.”

“Impossible.” Yet even as he said it, temptation made his gums itch, indicating that his body was longing for blood—preferably Ursula’s. This was a bad time for his hunger to creep up on him.

“That’s what we thought too, but we knew it was happening. And then there were other signs: the guards never drank our blood, even though they looked like they were tempted. And they talked about us: how valuable we were, how much our blood sold for to their clients. The amount they charged seemed staggering. I have no idea what an ounce of cocaine costs, but the guards were saying that our blood sold for more. You questioned how I escaped. The guard was called to help in another room because one of the clients was going wild—probably as a result of the blood—and I used the time to make sure the vampire who was feeding off me took more than he should. I drugged him. He passed out and I was able to escape.”

Oliver listened intently. Was it at all possible that it had happened exactly as she claimed? “Did nobody notice your escape?”

“I’m sure they did, but they were too late. I used the fire escape and ran until I bumped into you.”

He remembered all too well. Was that why she’d been so close to death, because she’d made that vampire drink excessive amounts of her blood? As he thought back to the moment he’d met her, he remembered hearing footsteps in the distance. He hadn’t waited to see who was approaching.

“They must have packed up when they realized that I escaped and couldn’t find me. They must have feared that I would bring somebody back to their hiding place.”

Oliver nodded slowly. “The building was looking a little too clean for that area. As if somebody had made sure to erase their tracks. Who was running the show?”

“I don’t know. Whoever he was, he never came to the floor where we lived and . . . where they fed off us. In fact I don’t think that even the guards knew who he was.

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