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  * * * *

  Matthew had turned off the lights when he realized they hurt Claire's eyes, but the lights in the living area were still on, and they reached just enough inside the bedroom to cast shadows against Claire's sleeping features. She looked peaceful once again, but too unnaturally still for Matthew's comfort. He kept expecting her chest to start moving in the slow movements of breath, but of course it didn't, and neither did her heart awaken to fill the emptiness of silence.

  The void left by her stillness and quiet was disconcerting, but it wasn't the only thing troubling Matthew. Her scent had altered, already. He could have recognized her anywhere before, but her scent now went beyond identifying her to him. He only needed to breathe in to see her in his mind, and for protectiveness to surge through him. His goal had always been to keep her safe. He had failed when she was human, but he wouldn't fail twice. She was his lover but also his Childe now, and he would rip the world apart before seeing her hurt again—by anyone.

  "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted this to happen to you."

  His murmured words moved a strand of hair that had fallen across her face, but she didn't stir. Matthew held her a little closer and quietly renewed his vow to protect her.

  He had not expected her to fall asleep so soon after having fed. If he looked back toward his own Siring, he had been ready to learn to hunt when he had first awakened as a vampire. That first night had been bloody; there had been no Special Enforcers, back then, and no agreement between humans and vampires to coexist peacefully.

  Afraid that he might be doing something wrong, or not doing something he was supposed to do, he carefully extricated himself from beneath Claire. He was loath to leave her alone, but he didn't plan to be gone for very long.

  Still wearing nothing more than the pajama pants he had thrown on when discovering Claire had left his bed, he walked out of the bedroom. He left the door ajar behind him so he would hear any noise Claire might make. Diane was where he had left her hours earlier, curled on the sofa with a book. She raised her eyes from the worn-out pages to look at him when he came to stand by her. An eyebrow arched high, she gave him a look of impatience.

  "Well? I heard talking, so I suppose she rose already?"

  Matthew nodded, his hands clenching and opening repeatedly. “She did. And she fed. But she fell asleep again. Is that normal?"

  Her small shrug made him want to shout. “Unusual, but not alarming.” She uncurled her legs from beneath herself to sit up, then tapped the seat next to her as an invitation. Matthew didn't move. “It was already morning when she was Sired,” she continued, “so she might need more time to transition."

  Her eyes slid from Matthew's face to his neck, weighing so heavily there that he touched the bite marks with his fingertips. She clucked her tongue in reprobation.

  "Her first meal should have been human blood, not yours. You should keep your blood as a reward rather than dispense it too freely to her. And even then, your wrist is where a Childe should feed from, not your neck. Have I taught you nothing?"

  Matthew's eyes widened and he let out a bark of incredulous laughter. “When have you ever taught me to be a Sire? When have you ever cared about customs, or things a Childe should be taught?"

  Annoyance flashed through Diane's face, but after a few seconds she inclined her head, a queen granting a request to her subject.

  "Maybe some of these things are not so important. But you will need to teach her to hunt, and to choose her prey safely. I will not have us hunted by Special Enforcers because she's careless when she feeds."

  Matthew did not answer. He and Diane had learned the rules of this particular game together, but it was Matthew who had convinced her that it was necessary to change their way of feeding. In other circumstances, he would have found it humorous that she was giving him advice on the matter.

  Shaking his head lightly, he walked over to the kitchen and threw a package of blood in the microwave. He hadn't fed the previous night, and had given his blood to Claire twice. He was famished. The blood revolved slowly in the microwave; Matthew kept his eyes on it, though he wasn't really seeing anything.

  "I will give her a day to get used to who she is now, but we're leaving town at sunset tomorrow. No more delays."

  Turning his attention toward the entrance of the kitchen, he observed Diane, standing there with her arms crossed and no idea whatsoever how close she was to leaving Haventown alone. He had tried to tell her, the previous night, but she hadn't understood. She truly thought he should have been grateful to her for killing Claire and making him turn her. He doubted anything he could say would change her mind, but maybe if he did more than tell her, if he let her go on by herself, if for the first time in more than a hundred years he did not follow where she led...

  The idea was tempting, a fitting consequence for her hurting him more than she would acknowledge, and Matthew considered it for a few seconds. He could stay in town with Claire, or go somewhere else, just the two of them. He could teach her to hunt and feed without killing, teach her the things Diane had never taught him and that he had figured out for himself or learned from others, teach her how vampires had once protected humans in exchange for blood. He could leave with her, and be reminded, night after night, of his failure to protect her. Or they could remain with Diane, and Matthew could try to convince himself that she was the one responsible for it.

  "We'll be ready.” The words grated his throat like sandpaper. He looked away from her and back at the beeping microwave. “Just ... leave us alone until then. Come back at nightfall, and we'll go with you."

  He could hear her take two steps inside the kitchen, coming closer to him. He tensed despite himself, waiting for a touch that didn't come.

  "Nightfall,” she murmured after a few seconds, then left the kitchen.

  Matthew kept listening until he heard the latch of the front door, then walked to the door and for the first time, locked it behind her. He wished he had locked it the previous night. If he had, Claire would have still been alive.

  Back in the kitchen, he drank the warmed blood straight from the plastic package. It was the finest blood a vampire could buy, human rather than animal, but Matthew didn't even notice the taste of it. Still hungry, he went through the motions of warming another package and forced himself to drink it before he returned to the bedroom. Claire was still asleep and he lay next to her, not touching her but watching her closely. Maybe by the time she woke up, he would figure out what to tell her.

  * * * *

  Awakening the second time was easier. The hunger was still there, lurking on the edge of Claire's mind, but it didn't overwhelm her anymore. Remembering the pain of too bright lights, she kept her eyes closed and took a deep breath in. She smiled. Matthew was there, very close.

  "Awake, sweetie?"

  She hummed her answer and cautiously opened her eyes. Matthew's face rested on a pillow, just inches from hers.

  "Did you watch me sleep the entire time?"

  He reached over to trace his thumb across her mouth, and Claire parted her lips to nip at the fleshy underside of it. By the way he smiled, she knew he had even before he answered. That knowledge made her feel warm all over, and she scooted closer to him, where she could press her body against his. His arms closed over her, and the questions she had wanted to ask disappeared in a blink.

  For a long moment, she remained silent, content to be with her Sire and needing nothing more. But when he shifted and gently told her that he wanted her to get up and get dressed, she did as he asked without a hesitation. She recognized the terrycloth robe he handed her as the one she had slipped on before encountering the woman, but the memory did not faze her. Instead, she looked around her and frowned slightly as she noticed something.

  "It's dark in here."

  None of the lights were on, neither in the room nor outside, and no sunlight filtered around the drapes.

  "Yes. So what?"

  Claire looked at him and detailed his features.
She could see the slight frown that matched the puzzlement in his voice, and the dullness of his eyes. She could see every line of his face, every individual eyelash, better than she ever had in the bright lights of On The Edge.

  "I can see. As clearly as though the lights were on."

  Matthew's smile was no more than a slight quiver of his lips before he took Claire's hand and guided her out of the room. “Part of the vampire package."

  "Is that why the light hurt when I opened my eyes?"

  "Clever girl."

  Just a day earlier, the words could have sounded condescending and Claire would have scoffed at them. At that moment, they were a delicious praise, and she couldn't help grinning proudly before realizing what she was doing. The same part of her that wanted to call Matthew ‘Sire’ also wanted his approval, almost more than anything else. Her smile faded as she understood that. She had changed, she knew as much, but it looked like some parts of the change would be more unexpected than others.

  Shaking her head, she tried to dismiss the pride and focus on the discussion.

  "But you're around bright lights all the time. How can you endure the pain?"

  Once they had reached the kitchen, Matthew let go of her hand and flipped the lights on. Claire shut her eyes tight immediately, expecting pain to flare through her.

  "It shouldn't hurt anymore by now,” Matthew assured her. “Go ahead, sweetie, open your eyes. Get them used to the light."

  That same part of her that had craved Matthew's approval now obeyed his request before Claire knew what she was doing. The brightness of the kitchen was uncomfortable, but not painful. When Matthew nodded, she started grinning before she could stop herself.

  "There you go. In no time, you won't even notice the lights anymore."

  Turning away from her, he pulled a dark package from the fridge and threw it in the microwave. Claire winced at the buzzing noise when he pressed the ‘start’ button.

  "All of your senses are more sensitive,” Matthew said, noticing her grimace. “It might get overwhelming for a little while but you'll learn to tune out the information you don't need."

  He pulled a chair for her, and Claire sat down at the table without hesitation. She splayed her hand over the wood, and her fingertips picked up every nuance and imperfection of the grain. She was certain that if she had touched this table when she had been human, it would have seemed polished to perfection. She wasn't sure she liked the roughness she was picking up now.

  "Hungry?"

  Even as he asked, Matthew placed a glass full of a dark red, thick liquid in front of her, then sat down at the end of the table.

  "Try it,” he encouraged Claire when all she did was peer into the glass. The smell of it was making her dizzy with pangs of hunger.

  "Is that ... is that human blood?” She knew the answer before she even finished voicing her question. “How...” Her voice trailed off and she picked the glass with both hands, holding it up very carefully.

  "Easily. Blood banks aren't just for hospitals. And usually, those run for vampires offer more than cookies and orange juice as a reward."

  Claire barely heard his explanation, her entire attention focused on the glass in her hands. She sighed. “It smells so good..."

  "I know. Go ahead, sweetie. Drink up."

  As enticing as the scent of blood was, it seemed strange to bring the glass to her lips. Something in her claimed that vampires fed from live humans, not reheated blood. She couldn't have said if the thought came from what she had learned during her mortal life, or from the demon she could practically feel stretching inside her as though getting used to her body. Whatever it was, she forgot her reluctance with the first swallow of the warm liquid. It coated her mouth and slid down her throat, flavorful and strong and before she knew it, she was putting down the empty glass and wondering whether she could ask for more.

  "Good, huh?” Matthew smiled. “Wait ‘til you take it right from the source. You'll think this is nothing afterwards."

  "Why do you have it, then?"

  "Because you never know when you'll go home without having found a prey. Or when you'll be too busy to go out and hunt."

  Unable to stop herself, Claire slid a finger inside the glass and gathered some of the blood coating it. Matthew's eyes followed her every movements when she brought it to her mouth to lick it clean. The fire that flared in his gaze awakened Claire's own lust. She crossed her legs tighter beneath the table, relishing the pressure even if it was far from sufficient.

  "Too busy doing what?” she asked, her voice catching in her throat.

  It took Matthew a few seconds to come up with an answer, and when he did, he shook his head, as though trying to clear up his mind. “Sleeping. Healing if you've been hurt."

  Trying very hard to silence the little voice that claimed a Childe ought to listen to her Sire and not demand, she stood and came to stand by Matthew's side. He looked up at her face at first, but when she tugged the belt of her robe undone, his eyes trailed over the bared flesh from her neck to the apex of her legs.

  "Too busy fucking?” Claire whispered.

  "That, too."

  He pushed his chair away from the table, and Claire took that as an invitation. She sat down on his lap, facing him, her arms around his neck and the curls of her sex pressing against the hardening bulge that pushed at the fabric of his pants. She leaned over to speak inside the shell of his ear.

  "Can we?"

  His fingers slid inside the robe, resting on her skin in the promise of more to come.

  "Fuck?"

  "Yes."

  "Anything you want, Childe."

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  Chapter Eighteen

  Anything she wanted, Matthew had said, and he meant it. All she had to do was ask, and he would give her the world. Give her his blood, his cock, his life. Anything. Everything. After all, he had taken everything from her. It was only fair he pay it back—which didn't mean he didn't enjoy himself as much as she did.

  He had bedded more women throughout the years than he cared to remember, and some of them had been prettier than the woman now sitting on his lap. He didn't delude himself about that fact. She wasn't just any woman, though, picked to play for a night. She was one of his girls. He had been ready to give his existence to protect hers, first because of whose family she had been born in, then because of who she was, deep down. Everything about her had resonated in him, and made him care more for her than he would have thought possible. And now, even those boundaries were breached, and whatever he had felt for her was amplified beyond what he could express in words. She was his Childe. The first vampire he had ever turned. And even if it hadn't been his choice to do it, even if Diane had forced his hand, the demon inside him and the blood in his veins knew that she was his. The knowledge was as heady as the scent of her lust.

  She had opened her robe before sitting on his lap, and it framed her skin tantalizingly, hinting at soft curves more than it revealed them. Sliding his hands beneath it, he caressed along her torso, up and down, barely brushing against the sides of her breasts even when she shifted under his touch. Her hands tightened where they rested on his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin with small pinpricks of pain.

  He dropped a kiss into the hollow of her throat and smiled when she shivered and pressed her pelvis against his cock.

  "Anything you want, sweetie?"

  "Yes. I want you to stop playing with me."

  His instinct to reply that he had never played with her was quelled by the realization that it wasn't true. At the club, his dancing and flirting had been a cruel game when he had known he would end up scaring her away. But he hadn't played with her since; if anything, he had been too open, though he doubted she would see things that way.

  "Is it playing when I do this?"

  He pressed another kiss to her throat, and when she arched her neck back to give him better access, he nipped at her skin with blunt teeth. She moaned softly.

  "Y
es..."

  "I guess I should stop, then."

  She blinked at that and looked straight at him, her brow furrowed in incomprehension. “What...” She finally got it and glared at him. “You're a bad man."

  His grin wavered and he fought back the urge to apologize. It was too soon. She was still getting used to who she was now, to a body and mind that were the same and yet weren't; she needed support and strength, not apologies for making her a vampire.

  "What should I do, then?” he asked through a tight throat.

  She answered with a gesture rather than words. She rolled her shoulders, and the robe slid back a little, revealing more of her and baring her breasts. Matthew took the hint and, sliding his hands to her back to hold her in place, he kissed the tip of a nipple. It hardened just a little against his lips, then a little more when his tongue flicked out to caress it. Claire hummed, a soft, almost purring sound that Matthew took as an invitation to continue. But before he did...

  He could feel her wetness, pressing against his length as she arched into him, wordlessly begging for more of his mouth on her skin. It wasn't very difficult to think back and remember how burning the core of her had been when he had pressed into her, and his cock twitched at the memory.

  Sliding his hands back to her sides, he pulled her back onto his lap; she protested with a small whine.

  "Shh ... Just a second, now. Take my cock out. That's it, sweetheart. Hold it, just there..."

  They both sighed as he raised her off his lap and onto his straining cock, her hand guiding him until he was sliding inside her to the root.

  "Now,” he said, his voice tight with the need to start moving inside her. “Where was I?"

  His mouth descended on her breast again, reawakening a neglected nipple until it was a hard nub between his careful teeth. Claire started bucking against him, trying at the same time to pull away and get closer to him. The movement made his cock slide a little deeper inside her and pulled a gasp from her. Using the leverage of her hands on his shoulders, she raised herself until his cock was almost slipping out of her, then slid back down. On the next try, she added a twist of her pelvis, and ground her clit against him.