He whirled to face her. “You would be if you’d feed.” If she would get her damn license he could be done with her and away from the temptation.
She flinched. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to. And no one makes Jane Anderson do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
He lifted his hands, dropping them by his sides. “You’re impossible.”
“So are you.”
A woman tripped on the curb in front of them, falling to her knees before her elbows scraped across the pavement. The coppery scent of fresh blood mixed with the warm, earthy tones of spiced rum, and despite his efforts, Ethan’s fangs extended. He clamped his mouth shut and gripped Jane’s arm as the woman stood and examined the blood dripping down her elbow. Surely the enticing aroma would do Jane in. Her fangs were probably fully extended as well. He had to get her away before she lunged for the woman.
Jane froze, her nose crinkling as the ice cream slipped from her grasp, splatting on the sidewalk. “Blood,” she murmured before her eyes rolled back and she crumpled to the ground.
Without a second thought, he scooped her into his arms and marched her to his car parked in the lot near the river. Her eyes fluttered open as he positioned her in the passenger seat and buckled the seat belt around her.
“Oh, man. Sorry about that.” She clutched her head.
He squatted beside the car. “This has gone on long enough. You need blood.”
“I saw enough blood tonight, thank you.”
He shook his head, frustration gnawing at his chest. “You need to consume it.”
“Why am I in the car? Where are we going?”
He slammed the door and stomped around to the driver’s side, yanking on the handle. “To see Sophie. Maybe she can talk some sense into you, because I am done, Jane.”
Her mouth fell open. “Done? You can’t be done.”
“Your stubbornness is killing you and making me miserable in the process.”
“I can’t die, and you’re already miserable.” She inclined her chin.
“You’re wasting away, and you know what the punishment will be if you don’t get your license.”
“Still can’t get your girl to feed?” Gaston smirked as he approached.
If Ethan had been paying attention, he’d have sensed his sire’s proximity, but he was so torn between his concern for Jane’s health and his desire to choke her, he couldn’t think of anything else. “Aside from force-feeding her, I don’t know what else to do.”
“Well, I bring two pieces of information. First, I want to tell Miss Jane that her request has been completed.” He leaned down and looked at her in the car.
“Thank you, Gaston. You’re the best.” She smiled and laid her head back on the headrest, closing her eyes.
“She doesn’t look well,” Gaston said as he straightened.
“She’s not. What was her request?”
He chuckled. “I’m not at liberty to divulge that information, my friend. Get her healthy, and then I’m sure she’ll tell you.”
He didn’t have the strength nor the patience to argue. “What’s the other thing?”
“Oh, yes. You’ve both been summoned by the Council. They want to see you tomorrow evening.”
His heart sank. He couldn’t let them see her in this condition. They’d probably stake him for being the crappiest sire in existence. “About what?” She had another week left on her permit. They didn’t need to see her now.
“That I do not know, my friend, but I suggest you get some blood in her before you arrive. Neglect of your offspring is punishable by stake.”
Every damn thing was punishable by stake these days. He said goodbye to Gaston, got in the driver’s seat, and sped toward Esplanade Avenue to Sophie’s rental house. Jane sagged into his side as he guided her up the front steps and banged on the door.
A few minutes later, Sophie’s grumbling voice filtered through the wood. “I know y’all keep undead hours, but this human needs her beauty sleep.” She swung open the door, and her eyes widened. “What happened to her?”
He scooped Jane into his arms and carried her into the living room, laying her on the sofa. “She passed out. A woman was bleeding, and I think this fasting is too much for her. I expected her to lunge toward the blood, but instead, she hit the ground.”
Sophie darted into the kitchen and returned with a wet rag. “She hasn’t told you why she won’t drink blood?”
“No. Just that Jane Anderson refuses to do anything she doesn’t want to do.”
She tilted her head, giving him a sympathetic look. “She faints at the sight of it. Always has.”
He paused, blinking a few times as her words sank in. “Please tell me you’re kidding. A vampire who faints at the sight of blood?”
“I wish I were.”
He dragged his hands down his face. No wonder she was so adamant about not learning to feed. Every time he’d tried to demonstrate, she’d turned her head the moment his fangs met flesh.
“We’ve been summoned to the Council tomorrow. I can’t take her there in this condition, and, well…I’m worried about her health. Will you talk to her? She won’t listen to me.”
Sophie knelt beside the couch and dabbed the rag on Jane’s head. “Listen, babe, you’ve got to drink some blood.”
Jane shook her head. “Never.”
“Look at you. You’re a fucking vampire with a black belt in karate. You’re a badass. An immortal. You don’t want to live all eternity like this, do you? And, frankly…” She leaned closer to her ear and whispered, “You’re shriveling up like a raisin. I think I see crow’s feet.”
“I can’t do it, Soph. Will you get me some water? My throat’s on fire.”
Sophie sighed and stood, jerking her head toward the hallway before strutting to the back of the house.
Ethan followed. “What am I going to do? I can’t stand to see her suffering like this, and if the Council finds out she refuses to feed, they’ll stake us both for her incompetence.”
“Okay, at first you had me believing you actually cared about her…until the incompetence line.”
He rubbed his forehead. “I do care about her. More than I planned to.” And wasn’t that the devil’s honest truth? No matter how infuriating the woman was, he was into her. Really into her.
“Can she hear us?” Sophie asked.
“Possibly.”
“Come outside with me. I have a plan.” She opened the back door and strutted onto the porch. “Can you drink blood not straight from a person? Like, can you put it in a cup?”
“Sure, but it’s still blood. If she can’t stomach it from the vein—”
She held up a hand. “Listen, Jane is stubborn as all get-out. She always has been, and she’s used to getting what she wants.”
He crossed his arms. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Sometimes what Jane wants and what Jane needs aren’t the same things. Then, you have to get creative.”
“I’m listening.”
“Can you get some blood? I don’t want to know how, but can you bring some here?”
“Sure.” The Blood Bank wasn’t far, and he had a line of credit there. “I can get a pint or two.”
“Great. However much you think she needs, put it in a Styrofoam cup with a lid and a straw. We’re going to trick her.”
“Do you think that will work?”
Sophie shrugged. “If she needs it that badly, she won’t be able to stop once she starts, right?”
“I suppose she won’t. It will instantly soothe her throat.” But Jane was smart. He couldn’t see her being fooled easily. “If I bring her a random drink, she’ll suspect.”
“No, she won’t. She trusts me. You get the blood, and I’ll convince her to drink it.”
He nodded. “Give me half an hour.”
Jane squeezed her eyes shut against the overhead lights and nestled deeper into the sofa. If only the damn thing would open up and swallow her whole, putting her out of her misery. That ice cream
didn’t help her throat a bit, and now Ethan was mad at her for no apparent reason. Her head pounded, and she was so damn thirsty, she could have drunk the entire Mississippi River.
“All right.” Sophie shuffled into the room. “I sent that man of yours out to get you a miracle cure. It’s the only thing that will help you.”
“Miracle cure?” She opened her eyes and squinted. “Can you turn off the lights?”
“Sure.” Sophie flipped the switch and turned on an end table lamp instead. “Remember the drink we had that cured our hangovers?”
“Oh yeah.” She’d forgotten how much better that one little drink made her feel. But that was a hangover; this was a dire need for a substance she couldn’t stand to look at, much less ingest. “Do you think it will help?”
“It’s worth a try.”
“Okay.” She pushed to sitting, folding her legs beneath her. “Is he still mad at me?”
Sophie sank onto the cushion next to her. “Why would he be mad at you?”
“I don’t know. We were talking and getting along, and then he just shut down. I don’t know what I did.”
Sophie grinned. “He’s not mad. Frustrated, but not mad.”
“What are you smiling at?”
She folded her hands in her lap. “You care.”
“So?”
“You normally don’t give a damn if someone gets mad at you, but you care about Ethan, and he cares about you. It’s so cute to watch this little relationship blooming.”
Jane shook her head. “He only cares so he can get me a biting license and be done with me.”
“That’s not true.” A knock sounded on the door. “He went all the way to the French Quarter to get your miracle cure. He likes you.”
Sophie opened the door, and Ethan came in carrying a Styrofoam cup. He handed it to Sophie before sinking into a chair and fisting his hands in his lap. Always fisting.
“Here you go.” Sophie passed the cup to Jane. “One miracle cure to remedy your woes.”
Jane examined the cup, plain white with a dark red straw. “Did it come from the same bar? It might not work otherwise.”
Sophie looked over her shoulder at Ethan. “You got it from the place we talked about, right?”
His fists clenched tighter. “I did precisely what you told me to do.”
“It’s exactly what you need, hon. Drink up.” Sophie pushed the cup toward Jane’s face.
“Okay, okay. Here goes nothing.” She touched the straw to her lips and took a giant sip, hoping the first gulp would be enough to extinguish the fire in her throat. She cringed at the metallic taste—like someone had dropped an entire roll of pennies in her drink—but as soon as the liquid slid down her throat, the inferno in her esophagus cooled like a glacier sliding over the flames.
She knew this was blood. It couldn’t be anything but. And her mind wanted her to choke, to throw the cup across the room and curse them both for tricking her. But her body took over, instinct forcing her to chug the entire contents of the container.
“Whoa. Slow down and breathe.” Sophie put a hand on her shoulder.
“She technically doesn’t need to,” Ethan said.
Sophie’s eyes held concern as Jane sat up straight and set the cup on the coffee table. “How do you feel?”
Jane looked at Ethan. Apprehension etched lines into his forehead, and his fists were clenched so tight, his pale skin had gone completely white around his knuckles.
She rolled her neck, running a hand over her throat because she couldn’t believe how instantly it had healed. But the most miraculous thing? She’d just ingested sixteen ounces of human blood, and she didn’t feel the slightest bit lightheaded.
Scooting to the edge of the couch, she slowly stood, expecting her normal reaction to overcome her any second and send her crumbling to the floor. It didn’t happen. She felt fine. Better than fine—she felt amazing.
“You both think you’re real smart for tricking me like that, don’t you? I know that was blood in that cup.” She fisted her hands on her hips, fighting her smile and glaring at them both.
Ethan’s hands relaxed on his knees, his entire demeanor shifting as his posture softened. One corner of his mouth tugged into an almost-grin—the closest thing she’d seen to a smile on the man since the day he turned her—and he rose to his feet. “Technically, Sophie did the tricking. I merely acquired the provisions.”
Sophie laughed. “‘Acquired the provisions.’ He’s funny.”
“He’s definitely something.” She smiled at Ethan, and when he looked back at her, she got the overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms and show him just how much she appreciated his efforts to keep her functioning. Instead, she hugged Sophie. “Thanks for everything.”
“He’s good for you,” she whispered back.
“I know.” She shuffled to the door. “Well, I guess this settles the license issue. I can drink blood from a straw, so I’ll never have to bite anyone.”
Ethan’s almost-smile faded. “I have no issues with buying you blood. I keep a supply in my fridge anyway, but the law states everyone within one hundred miles of a city must have a license…whether you’re biting or not. The Council has every right to stake you if you don’t.”
Jane took his hand. “Let me worry about the Council. Right now, we need to get home. I’ve got something to show you.”
Chapter Nine
Relief flooded Ethan’s body, the sensation making him lightheaded as he drove up Dauphine toward his home in Bywater. Small Creole cottages in pastel shades lined the narrow street, and his Ford lurched as he hit two potholes in a row.
Jane bubbled with excitement in the seat next to him. What she could possibly want to show him that had her this worked up, he couldn’t fathom, but seeing her happy…and healthy again…sent a zing through his chest, sparking life in his undead heart.
If it weren’t for that stupid law, and especially that damn British constable, Jane might actually stand a chance of survival. She may have had the upper hand with people in human politics, but she was clueless when it came to the inner workings of the supernatural world.
“I have an idea,” he said as he made a right on Gallier. “Gourds.”
Jane gave him a quizzical look. “You mean, like pumpkins? What about them?”
“Yes. Yellow squash would probably be a good place to start, though. Or zucchini.”
She laughed. “What on Earth are you talking about?”
“To practice biting. The consistency is similar. The flesh of the gourd would have a similar give, and you could—”
“I don’t need to learn biting techniques. I can buy my meals from the bank. Or, rather, I can give you the money, and you can buy them. I doubt I could step foot inside the place. Do they have the blood on display? Like bags hanging from hooks in a refrigerated case? Or is it kept in a tank?” She shivered. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
He reached for her hand across the console. “I know you think you can convince the Council to bend the law for you, but…”
She placed her free hand on top of his. “I know I can.”
He bit back a growl of frustration. “Okay, but even if you do convince them, will you humor me? Let me teach you the technique just in case the situation ever arises where you might be forced to?”
She fake-smiled and tapped her canine tooth. “I don’t have fangs.”
“You can still learn.” He squeezed her hand and slipped from her grasp as he rolled to a stop and turned off the engine.
Jane twisted in her seat to face him. “Would it make you happy if I did?”
“Very.”
“Okay. Gourds it is, but let’s start with zucchini. I don’t like yellow squash unless it’s fried.” She opened the car door. “Now, come on. I can’t wait for you to see this.”
He followed as she pranced up the walk, bouncing on her toes as she waited for him to let her inside. Damn, she was cute when she was excited.
“What are you s
o worked up about?”
“You’ll see. Open the door.” She pushed it open the moment the lock disengaged and zipped inside at vampire speed—finally. Whoever donated the pint she consumed must’ve been a heavy coffee drinker. He stepped through the threshold and closed the door.
“Are you ready?” If she got any more excited, she’d explode.
“As I’ll ever be.”
She giggled and flipped a switch on the wall…a switch he was certain had never been there before. Machinery hummed to life, and blackout screens lowered over all the windows, locking into place in unison as a metal barrier rose up from the floor, blocking the door. She’d equipped his home with the most state-of-the-art vampire protection system on the market. The simple systems cost a fortune, but this…
He stepped toward a window and ran his finger along the rubber seal. This system was built for fortresses. For royalty. For…
“Well?” She clasped her hands together in front of her chest and looked at him with wide, wondrous eyes. “What do you think?”
“I…” His jaw trembled, so he snapped his mouth shut. It was too much. How could he accept such an extravagant gift when all he’d done for her was damn her to darkness?
“It’s great, isn’t it? Now we don’t have to sleep in the attic.”
“I can’t accept this, Jane.”
Her smile faded. “Why not? It’s the least I could do to show my appreciation.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Your appreciation for what? I damned you.”
“You saved my life.”
“By turning you into a monster.”
She crossed her arms. “We are not monsters, Edward. Now take a hike and bring Ethan back. I like him a lot better.”
“How much did all of this cost?”
“It doesn’t matter, and anyway…it’s not just for you. Jane Anderson does not belong in a dusty old attic.”
“That’s true. You don’t.” Leave it to Jane to turn his pity party around and defuse all his arguments by making it about her.
“So…what do you really think?”
License to Bite Page 9
