like mierdo , and he wasn’t wasting at all. He was just goddamn hungry.
A single bunch of purple-black grapes lay on the stainless steel countertop. Sweet and sharp, their fragrance made his mouth water—strange, since he could no longer eat them. It had been a good year for grapes: heavy rain in the winter and spring followed by a cool summer that spiked hot right at the end of the season. From the smell, he guessed this batch of Blood Vine would be excellent.
Andre strode into the workroom and came to stand next to him. Pedro squeezed one grape to see if the seeds would separate from the fruit’s flesh. Nope.
“Not ripe yet. I predict another week or two until harvest,” Andre said.
“Yeah, and the good news is, they’re ripening evenly.” For the fifteen years Pedro had worked with Andre, this was their constant challenge—Zinfandel grapes on a bunch tended to ripen at different times. “It will save us a lot of time if we don’t have to harvest by—”
A cramp in Pedro’s gut stole his breath. He’d hoped work would distract him from his hunger. No luck. His skin felt dry and tightly stretched over his body like too-small clothes. He spread the fingers on his hand to test the pulling sensation.
Andre shook his head. “You need to feed.”
“I’ll have more wine.”
“You have had enough wine. You need more blood. Newly turned vampires must feed once a day. I cannot believe you have made it this long.”
“I wasn’t hungry at first,” Pedro said.
“But you are now. You must feed.”
Problem was, his body only wanted blood from Lucas Bennett. Pedro had a legion of reasons to stay away from Lucas. Damn good reasons like betrayal, torture, a gratitude he resented, and oh yeah—lust. He was staying in the south wing, and Pedro hadn’t seen him in days. But every time the ex-Hunter’s scent hit him, he shuddered with desire, like an addict.
“I can’t feed,” he said.
“Of course you can.”
“I’m not hungry for anyone but Bennett. I can smell him everywhere in the house—he’s all I can think about.”
“I can smell him too and it puts me on edge, like a Hunter is waiting behind every corner.” Andre ground his teeth so loudly Pedro wanted to cover his ears. He would rather listen to nails on a chalkboard.
“You’re not hearing me, man. I can’t feed from anyone else.”
Andre dropped the bunch of grapes. “Have you tried?”
“Yeah. I tried with all the household women. Didn’t work. Kos is pretty sure it’s not a gay thing. But just in case, he took me to a bar in Guerneville last night—met two willing dudes. Still nothing. I was hungry and I could smell their blood, but my fangs wouldn’t come out to play.”
“I have never heard of this before.”
“Great, as if being a vampire didn’t make me enough of a freak, I’m a freaky vampire.”
Andre threw a grape at him. “So, Bennett then. He is your only option.”
“I don’t want to get that close to him.”
“Believe me, I understand. Feeding was salt in my wounds every time until Zoey came. Still, you must eat.”
Maybe Pedro was being a wimp. After all, Andre had survived the death of his first wife and the broken blood bond it caused. In some way that no one could fully explain to Pedro, Mila had been a living part of Andre and her death had torn him in half, body and soul, and caused him decades of torment. Surely, by comparison, Pedro could handle feeding from Lucas, no matter how awkward it was.
Pedro allowed himself to imagine drawing near to Lucas—his body, his neck, his blood. Pedro’s muscles coiled under a wave of anger, his skin heated with shame, and blood pounded in his ears. He was a fucking wreck, emotions firing off one after another. The room spun, and he shuffled to a nearby stool.
“What will happen if I only drink Blood Vine?”
“You will not grow strong. It is not a good idea. You are on the soil where you were turned. This is where you will become powerful. If the
A single bunch of purple-black grapes lay on the stainless steel countertop. Sweet and sharp, their fragrance made his mouth water—strange, since he could no longer eat them. It had been a good year for grapes: heavy rain in the winter and spring followed by a cool summer that spiked hot right at the end of the season. From the smell, he guessed this batch of Blood Vine would be excellent.
Andre strode into the workroom and came to stand next to him. Pedro squeezed one grape to see if the seeds would separate from the fruit’s flesh. Nope.
“Not ripe yet. I predict another week or two until harvest,” Andre said.
“Yeah, and the good news is, they’re ripening evenly.” For the fifteen years Pedro had worked with Andre, this was their constant challenge—Zinfandel grapes on a bunch tended to ripen at different times. “It will save us a lot of time if we don’t have to harvest by—”
A cramp in Pedro’s gut stole his breath. He’d hoped work would distract him from his hunger. No luck. His skin felt dry and tightly stretched over his body like too-small clothes. He spread the fingers on his hand to test the pulling sensation.
Andre shook his head. “You need to feed.”
“I’ll have more wine.”
“You have had enough wine. You need more blood. Newly turned vampires must feed once a day. I cannot believe you have made it this long.”
“I wasn’t hungry at first,” Pedro said.
“But you are now. You must feed.”
Problem was, his body only wanted blood from Lucas Bennett. Pedro had a legion of reasons to stay away from Lucas. Damn good reasons like betrayal, torture, a gratitude he resented, and oh yeah—lust. He was staying in the south wing, and Pedro hadn’t seen him in days. But every time the ex-Hunter’s scent hit him, he shuddered with desire, like an addict.
“I can’t feed,” he said.
“Of course you can.”
“I’m not hungry for anyone but Bennett. I can smell him everywhere in the house—he’s all I can think about.”
“I can smell him too and it puts me on edge, like a Hunter is waiting behind every corner.” Andre ground his teeth so loudly Pedro wanted to cover his ears. He would rather listen to nails on a chalkboard.
“You’re not hearing me, man. I can’t feed from anyone else.”
Andre dropped the bunch of grapes. “Have you tried?”
“Yeah. I tried with all the household women. Didn’t work. Kos is pretty sure it’s not a gay thing. But just in case, he took me to a bar in Guerneville last night—met two willing dudes. Still nothing. I was hungry and I could smell their blood, but my fangs wouldn’t come out to play.”
“I have never heard of this before.”
“Great, as if being a vampire didn’t make me enough of a freak, I’m a freaky vampire.”
Andre threw a grape at him. “So, Bennett then. He is your only option.”
“I don’t want to get that close to him.”
“Believe me, I understand. Feeding was salt in my wounds every time until Zoey came. Still, you must eat.”
Maybe Pedro was being a wimp. After all, Andre had survived the death of his first wife and the broken blood bond it caused. In some way that no one could fully explain to Pedro, Mila had been a living part of Andre and her death had torn him in half, body and soul, and caused him decades of torment. Surely, by comparison, Pedro could handle feeding from Lucas, no matter how awkward it was.
Pedro allowed himself to imagine drawing near to Lucas—his body, his neck, his blood. Pedro’s muscles coiled under a wave of anger, his skin heated with shame, and blood pounded in his ears. He was a fucking wreck, emotions firing off one after another. The room spun, and he shuffled to a nearby stool.
“What will happen if I only drink Blood Vine?”
“You will not grow strong. It is not a good idea. You are on the soil where you were turned. This is where you will become powerful. If the
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