Once Burned (Night Prince #1)(25)
Author: Jeaniene Frost

Sandra gasped. That was the last thing I heard before everything went hazy and the exercise bench reared up to hit me in the face.

Chapter 16

"Leila, can you hear me?"

I opened my eyes, blinking. Vlad’s face materialized in front of me, blurry at first, and then clear enough for me to notice that he looked concerned.

"Hey," I said, surprised at how weak my voice sounded.

"Will she be all right?" I heard Ben ask.

"All of you, leave," Vlad responded curtly.

"That’s not nice," I mumbled. "You should talk to them before you bite them, too. Common courtesy."

His brow went up, but he said nothing to that. I heard shuffling feet and then moments later, a door closed.

"Did I faint?" I asked, trying to remember what happened. I’d been attempting to make Ben feel better about his former Minnie Mouse fetish, and then I saw something red . . .

"Yes. You were also bleeding from your ears, but it’s stopped now."

Vlad’s words were blunt, but they lacked the brusque tone he’d used with Ben. I tried to sit up, but his features started to get blurry again.

"Slowly," Vlad said. He grasped my shoulders, easing me into a sitting position. Then he slid behind me so that my back rested against his chest.

"Don’t. I’m all sweaty and bloody," I protested.

"Heavens, not sweat and blood," he replied mockingly.

I managed to smile. Smartass vampire.

"Are you anemic?" Vlad asked, surprising me.

I frowned. "I don’t think so, but I haven’t been to a doctor in a long time, for obvious reasons."

He grasped my hand. Before I realized what he intended, he had my red-smeared fingers in his mouth.

"Stop!" I gasped.

His other arm went around my torso, holding me in place against his chest. Between that and his grip on my hand, no way was I breaking free even if I had all my strength back, which I didn’t. I could do nothing but wait as he slowly sucked on my fingers, his warm tongue snaking in between them to get every last drop of blood.

"You’re not anemic," he said when he finally let go and I yanked my hand away from his mouth.

I still felt rattled by what he’d done, and it wasn’t because I’d found it repellent. "You can tell from that?"

"You’d be surprised by the things I can tell from tasting someone’s blood," he replied in a lower, darker voice.

I shivered, acutely aware that my neck was only an inch from his mouth. As if to accentuate that point, his jaw grazed my cheek. His stubble doesn’t feel as rough as it looks, raced across my mind. Then again, it hadn’t felt rough in that vision, either . . .

"I think I can get up now," I said, trying to scoot away.

His arm stopped me before I got more than a few inches, drawing me back against that hard, heated chest.

"Stop fidgeting, I’m not going to bite you."

"Going to lick the blood off my head instead?" I asked before cursing myself. Give him the idea, why don’t you?

I couldn’t see his face, but I could almost feel him smile. "No, not that, either. Has this ever happened to you before?"

Being held against my will by a vampire? Sure, lots of times, I thought sardonically.

"Leila . . ." His voice held a note of impatience.

I thought back, ruling out the times I’d felt dizzy after falling during practice and banging my head.

"Years ago, right around the time I met Marty. Once I fainted when he and I were performing. Then Marty started making me these awful-tasting health shakes, and I got better. Maybe I hadn’t been getting enough vitamins before or something-"

I stopped, because Vlad had tensed. If I thought his chest felt hard before, now it was like leaning against steel.

"How often did he make you those shakes?"

I didn’t like the sound of his voice. Too controlled and pleasant-the same voice he used when he killed.

"About once a week. Why?"

He didn’t answer, but pulled out a cell phone, dialing one-handed. With our close proximity, I heard the person answer.

"Yes?" Marty’s voice, tight with tension.

"Why are you-?" I began, but Vlad’s hand sliced the air in the universal command for silence.

"Martin," he said genially, "did you forget to tell me something very important about Leila?"

Silence, and then Marty’s guarded "I don’t know what it could have been-"

"Because she’s right here, blood staining her hair after it leaked from her ears when she fainted," Vlad cut him off, his tone sharpening. "Does that stir your memory?"

I didn’t understand where Vlad was going with this. He clearly thought Marty had something to do with my fainting, but why? How?

My uneasiness wasn’t abated when I heard Marty’s heavy sigh.

"I hoped she’d built up enough of a resistance that she’d be okay until I got back, but . . . well, f**k."

"Well what?" I demanded, struggling to rise to my feet.

Vlad’s arm tightened, keeping me pinned to his chest. "He’s been feeding you his blood in those shakes," he said flatly. "That’s why they tasted terrible to you. I should have picked up on that the other day when the scent from my bloody shirt reminded you of them, but I was preoccupied."

I was stunned, my mind immediately rejecting the idea. I’d seen what Marty put into those shakes! Carrots, celery, tomato juice, protein powder, some vitamin drops . . .

Red vitamin drops in an unmarked bottle that he claimed he got from a friend who sold them on the side. I never questioned Marty about it. Why would I? I trusted him.

"Kid." Marty’s voice flowed through the silence. "I’m sorry I didn’t tell you."

My teeth ground together until my jaw ached. "Hold the phone near my ear," I directed Vlad. "Why?" I asked as soon as it was close.

Marty sighed again. "You were dying when we met. You didn’t know it, but I could smell it. You’re only human; you don’t heal fast enough to undo the harm inflicted on your body from all that power inside you. I thought if I gave you a little bit of my blood every week, it might reverse the damage and even build up your resistance to the repercussions from your power. I was right about the first, but not the second, obviously."

In that moment, I was glad Vlad hadn’t let me get up because I felt like all the strength left my body. I’d been dying? Could I believe him about that after he admitted he’d been lying to me the entire four years we’d known each other?

"Why didn’t you tell me this before?" My voice sounded strong, at least. Anger helped with that.

"I wanted to, but I was afraid you’d say no." It sounded like Marty sniffed even though he didn’t need to breathe. "You know what happened with Vera. When we met, you reminded me so much of her that I couldn’t . . . I wouldn’t let you die, too."