My nostrils flared. Blood. I sank my teeth into the bleeding wrist that was thrust in front of my mouth. It tasted strange. Fizzy with energy. Syrupy. But good. So good.
I drank. And drank. And drank.
* * *
I woke with a blazing ache between my legs. My hips bucked and I groaned, feeling empty and restless. I was so wet; could smell the need that pulsed in my veins and drummed through my body.
The cool air chafed my naked, oversensitive skin and my painfully tight nipples. Whimpering, I squirmed and rubbed my thighs together; needing some relief. It didn’t help. The fire inside me just blazed hotter and hotter, giving me no reprieve.
My womb clenched hard. I hissed and writhed again, squeezing my thighs so tightly together it sent shooting pains through my muscles. I tried to touch myself, to take away the burning ache, but I couldn’t move my hands. They were tied together and secured to something above my head.
I sobbed in frustration, arching my back. I couldn’t take any more of this. I had to—
“Again, baby? Fuck, you’re gonna be sore.”
I didn’t know what that meant, didn’t care. Two fingers probed and slipped inside me, and I almost wept with relief. My muscles clamped around them, trying to keep them where they were. “Please.” My voice was hoarse, and it hurt my throat to speak.
My hands were freed and then a large, hot body draped over mine. The skin-to-skin contact didn’t hurt; it calmed me somehow. “Open your eyes for me.”
I tried. Light stabbed my eyes, and I winced. “Hurts.”
“Okay, baby, keep them closed for now.” A kiss was pressed to each of my eyelids just as something prodded my opening.
I arched, wanting more. And then a hard and thick cock pushed inside me. I groaned in both bliss and relief. It felt so good. Stretched me just right and soothed the ache. My body tightened around him as he fed me an inch at a time. “Too slow.” Too gentle. I needed it hard. I needed the fiery ache to go away. I tilted my hips, taking him deeper.
“Be still.”
I couldn’t. “More. Faster.” I raked my nails down his back.
He growled. Then he was hammering into me, and my teeth bit into his shoulder.
* * *
I had the worst hangover, like, ever.
Groggy, I licked my dry lips, frowning at the bitter taste in my mouth. My throat was painfully dry, my head felt heavy, my stomach was churning, and there were sharp, shooting pains behind my eyes.
Apparently I’d set out to get drunk like it was my job. I was surprised I couldn’t smell alcohol seeping from every pore. I hadn’t felt this dizzy since…hell, it hurt to try to remember. I didn’t even want to know what I looked like—it couldn’t be half as bad as I felt.
I tried to lift my head. A throbbing, head-splitting pain reverberated around my skull. I groaned.
Never again. I was never drinking again.
“Hey, baby, how are you feeling?” The low soft voice belonged to Butch. I’d never heard him sound gentle before.
Slowly, I turned on my side to face him, and a wave of nausea came over me; I closed my mouth tight, fighting the urge to balk.
He slid closer and curled his arm around me. His eyes seemed to be drinking me in, like he hadn’t seen me in years. “Not so good, huh?”
Not good at all. In fact—on top of everything else—I felt strangely uneasy. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t pinpoint what. “I feel weird.” My voice was coarse and scratchy.
He brushed a thumb over my jaw. “Weird how, baby?”
“Just weird.” I couldn’t explain it beyond that. “Who were my drinking buddies last—?” Images flashed in my pounding head. Snapshots of memory. So much pain. God, the thirst, the need to fuck and—
“Imani, you’re gonna be okay,” soothed Butch.
Hangover, my ass. “Something’s very wrong, isn’t it?” Anxious, I went to sit up. My head spun.
“Calm down.” Butch gripped my shoulder, keeping me in place. “What’s the last thing you remember about the night we spoke with Andres?”
I blinked. My memory was pretty foggy, but… “There was a concert.”
He nodded. “That’s right. Good. What happened?”
“I went to say goodbye to Eleanor.” Things got a little hazy after that.
His eyes searched mine. “That’s all you remember?”
The anxiety in his expression made my heart begin to pound. “Tell me whatever it is that I’ve forgotten.”
He inhaled deeply. “You were injected with something at the concert.”
I tensed, doing my best to ignore the sensation of my stomach spinning. “Injected? Injected with what?”
He paused. “A serum that’s supposed to be a vampiric cure.”
My brows flew up. “Are you saying I’m not a vampire?” That couldn’t be right. I still felt like one…sort of.
“I don’t know, baby,” admitted Butch. “Your scent hasn’t changed, but it doesn’t seem to have a vampiric quality to it anymore. You still have the Keja allure, although it’s not the same as before.”
“What do you mean?”
“The allure doesn’t look vampiric or even feel it, but it has the same hypnotic effect.” He cupped my chin. “Try lowering your fangs.”
I tried, but…“They’re gone.” The words came out in a strangled whisper.
“So is the amber tint to your irises. You’re obviously weak, but since you’re the first person to get through the entire transition alive, I don’t know if that’s normal.”
There were a whole lot of things wrong with that sentence. “So I’ve gone through the transition, but I’m still part vampire?”
“I really don’t know.” And that was clearly worrying him. “Midway through the transition, Lena came to see you. She took a look at your DNA. She couldn’t read it because it was, in her words, ‘too fluid.’”
“Too fluid? What does that mean?”
“No idea. She tried to stop the transition but, even with Reuben’s help to amplify her gift, she wasn’t able to help you. Sam and Jared are bringing her to see you some time tonight. Probably in the next hour.” Butch threaded his fingers through mine and kissed my palm. “Think of drinking blood. Does it sound good or make you feel queasy?”
I swallowed. The movement hurt enough to make me wince. “The thought of having anything makes me feel queasy.”
“Okay, we’ll review that again later. Does your gift work?”
“I’ll try.” I reached for it, moved a psychic hand through his mind just as effortlessly as always. “It works.” But that didn’t seem to relieve him. I used my thumb to brush away the crease between his brows. “You’re really worried.”
“If you’re a little human, that could mean a lot of things.”
He was right. I could be weaker now. I could age. I might not heal as quickly. None of those things were good. “You said I’m the only one to get through the entire transition alive. Does that mean others have been injected?”
He told me about the serum, the volunteers, and how each of them died.
Somehow I managed to speak through gritted teeth. “Who did this to me?”
“You know who it’s most likely to be.”
“Marco or one of his bunnies.”
Butch nodded. “All of them are being held in the containment cells. Soon—” A knock sounded at the door, and he sighed. “That’ll be Sam, Jared, and Lena to see you.” He got out of bed and pulled on a T-shirt and jeans. Then he grabbed another of his T-shirts. “Put this on, baby. I don’t want them seeing you naked.”
Slowly, I forced myself to sit upright, wincing at the spike of pain in my head. My stomach protested moving, but I managed not to balk. Butch helped me slip on the tee. “Thanks.”
He pulled the covers over my legs and tucked them around my waist before pressing a kiss to my temple. “Missed you.” He left the room before I could respond, returning moments later with Sam, Jared, Lena, and Antonio.
“Hey,” I greeted, tucking my hair behind my ear. I couldn’t help feeling a little self-conscious, knowing I had to look like utter crap.
The picture of concern, Antonio asked, “How are you feeling?”
Honestly… “Like a bag of shit.”
Jared’s lips twitched. “At least you’re back to your old self.”
“How long was I not myself?”
“Three nights.” Butch sat beside me and took my hand in his. “Three very long nights.”
“You worried the shit out of me, Imani,” Sam snapped. Like it was my fault. “I’ve spent all that time panicking that you wouldn’t live through it.”
“The question is,” said Antonio, “are you any different for living through it?”
“She still has her gift,” Butch told them. “She’s too queasy to consume anything, so we won’t know if she still craves blood until the nausea wears off.”
Sam studied me carefully. “Even without the amber irises, you still have a preternatural look about you. But it wouldn’t be obvious to our kind that you’re a vampire, even with the Keja pull.” She turned to Lena. “Do you think you’ll be able to read her DNA now?”