He blanched. "Why do you say that?"
"Takes one to know one, maybe? I've been around sick people for a lot of years." She picked at a thread on the thin blanket and shrugged.
He returned to the foot of her bed, his gaze penetrating into the very heart of her. When he finally spoke, his voice was tight with urgent grief. "Unlike you, I have no name for it. And there are no medicines to keep it from getting worse. It shouldn't even be possible, but that doesn't make it any less real."
She nodded, butterflies whipping up a whirlwind in her belly. Suspicion of another sort bloomed. "And you need me because..."
"Because yours is the first blood in years that has actually provided me any sustenance, and I think you can save my life."
Chapter 7
Kaira's lovely face paled. She swallowed, hard. "Is my blood why your eyes turned bright blue last night?"
"I believe so," he said quietly, watching her every movement, her every reaction.
"And they're pale again today because...?"
Henrik tilted his head, hating that he'd put this on her while she lay recovering in a hospital bed. He hadn't intended to just come out and tell her, but learning she was sick... He was as struck by the similarity of their situations as he was panicked by the idea that he'd found his salvation only to learn that she might be taken away.
He couldn't let that happen. At least, not until he knew more about what her blood might be able to do for him.
"Because it wasn't enough. I've been afflicted with whatever this is for a very long time." He sighed and pressed the call button on the rail of her bed.
Jakob pushed through the door almost immediately and bowed his head in a gesture of respect. "My lord?"
Henrik turned his gaze to Kaira, intrigued by the expression on her face as she observed Jakob. The male was handsome, he supposed. At least, he'd never had a problem finding a woman to bed. No doubt she found him more attractive, and how could he blame her? Still, a sharp wave of jealousy sloshed through his gut. He shoved it away. "Kaira, do you have the medicines you need wherever you were staying in Tromsø?"
Her face fell, as if she were disappointed by this solution to her problem of getting the care she needed. She worried her tongue over a scab on her bottom lip. "Ja. I'm at the Nordic Hotel. Or, was, I guess."
Henrik had to look away. Her sadness and resignation made it hard to breathe. And the wet sheen her pink tongue dragged over her lip made his jeans suddenly snug. "Jakob, go to Miss Sorensen's hotel, pack her belongings and bring everything back here."
Kaira sat up. "I have two cameras and lenses in the room safe. The code is 5-2-9-3. Please be careful with them."
Jakob nodded. "Of course. Anything else?" His gaze was full of questions Henrik couldn't yet answer.
"Nei, go while you still have the night. It's going to be tight to get back in time."
He smirked. "I'll make it."
The door hadn't closed behind Jakob when Kaira spoke. "So, what? You want to drink my blood again?" She drew her knees up under the blanket.
At least her directness saved him the trouble of figuring out how to tell her what needed to happen here. "Ja." He dragged a hand through his hair. Suddenly, an idea took shape in his mind. As much of a monster as this probably made him, he had to find out how feeding from her fully would impact his malady. But perhaps he could do something for her in return.
What if she fed from him, too?
His body snapped to attention, heartbeat pulsing in his fangs, cock hard and aching. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had elicited these reactions. Blood lust and physical lust usually went hand in hand for a vampire, so he hadn't craved the tight heat of a woman's body in a very long time. Too long.
"That's it? That's all you have to say? Because, you know, I'm kinda using this blood over here."
The angered heat behind her words did nothing to rein in his physical reactions. He swallowed hard, forcing down his hunger for her blood. And her body. "I know how this sounds, Kaira, and I am sorry. If there was another way...well, there isn't. I've tried everything. I wouldn't take more than you could afford to lose at one time. I don't know if your blood will definitively cure me, but I do know without it...I've no chance at all." He shook his head, still grappling with his thought of offering her his vein in return.
Usually, such a privilege was reserved for a vampire's mate, especially given his rank and station. Not that he'd ever been successful at finding a blood match that might've led to his joining with a mate. For a single moment, he let himself imagine the immense satisfaction of Kaira's lips at his throat, her tongue coaxing his blood into her mouth, her body clinging tightly to his.
His cock punched at the zipper to his jeans and his fangs stretched out against his bottom lip. And that reaction was another consideration. Could he feed her and not make it about sex? He wasn't even sure it was possible.
Kaira gasped, her eyes trained on his mouth.
He almost turned away. But then he thought better of it. It would be good for her to see his true nature now and have the time to wrap her head around it.
At first, looming panic filled her expression. But then it shifted into what he would've sworn was abject fascination. Her respirations quickened, her heart rate thrummed, and the rich scent of her adrenaline filled the air-along with something else. Something hotter, sweeter, more feminine.
She was aroused. By the sight of his fangs.
He was merely a shadow of the male he'd once been. No delusions about what he looked like here. Was it really possible that someone as beautiful as Kaira could find him attractive?
"Kaira," he said in a rasping warning. If she didn't stop looking at him like that, he wouldn't be responsible for his actions. She blinked and licked her lips. Which didn't help his restraint one damn bit. He pushed onto his feet and braced his hands on each of the bedrails, a predator stalking her, boxing her in. "You need to understand how weak my restraint is, kjære." Dear. The term of endearment was out of his mouth before he'd thought to say it. He pulled away.
She cupped his cheek in her hand, and her touch was like an anchor. Holding him. Steadying him. "So, you need blood to survive?" Her thumb stroked across the skin under his eye. Warm. Soft. Captivating.
The question unleashed a rising tide of hope. Was she finding her way to being all right with this? And how long had it been since someone had touched him with such gentleness? Momentarily overwhelmed, all he could do was nod. While vampires were capable of ingesting rare meats and spirits, blood provided sustenance like nothing else. It was the one thing he couldn't live without.
Kaira's gaze dragged from his eyes to her own thumb moving over his flesh, and then she looked lower. She shifted her hand until she cupped his jaw. Her thumb caressed the corner of his lips once, twice.
Henrik's heart tripped into a sprint. "Kaira."
The next slide of her thumb brushed the surface of his fang.
He sucked in a breath and every muscle went rigid. His hands fisted on the bedrails, attempting to hold himself in place for whatever exploration she wished to conduct. She touched his elongated canine again, a purposeful drag of her skin against the most visible outward manifestation of what he was. The sensation lit up his entire central nervous system.
Adrenaline and arousal poured off her, and her heartbeat fluttered like a hummingbird's wings. Her lips fell open. She swiped her thumb under the point of his fang.
He wasn't sure who gasped louder.
She examined her thumb. A thin ribbon of red bloomed on the pad. Her eyes went wide.
The bedrails under his fists creaked and groaned. He couldn't look away from her intrigued expression, from her breasts heaving under the thin gown, from the smear of her life's blood turning the air so fragrant he could barely maintain rational thought. "If I...let go...I'm going to be...all over you," he growled. "Get rid of it."
She hesitated for only a moment, then pressed her thumb to her own lips.
* * *
What the hell are you doing, Kai? she thought as she sucked at the cut on her thumb. The cut made by his fang. You have no idea what you're playing with here. He's not like you.