Twice Dead by Kalayna Price

alighting bird ready to take flight. “I will rectify both situations. Please. Let me fix her.”
    I swallowed. The scratch wasn’t anything, really, but I didn’t like the way he said fix —like maybe Tatius thought I was broken. I glanced down and caught sight of the long dagger Tatius kept strapped to his thigh. I wasn’t unfixable. I leaned into Nathanial, and his hands became surer weights on my shoulders, his fingers wrapping around my upper arms. If I had known earlier that all this would occur, I would have just taken his blood on the porch. Really, I would have at least considered it. Dammit.
    I opened my mouth to apologize, then snapped it closed again. Now wasn’t the time. Instead I said to Tatius, “I thought you were just going on about how I needed human blood.”
    His frown deepened. “You could gorge yourself on all the humans you could possibly swallow and it wouldn’t do you any good because you couldn’t convert the blood to energy. You need a base of master vampire blood in your body to do that, and a baby body like yours doesn’t produce it. You have to be fed by a master to survive.”
    “I will fix her,” Nathanial said again, pulling me tighter against him.
    Tatius watched us, but finally he shook his head. “No.”
    No. Two little letters. One earth-shattering word.
    Behind me, Nathanial’s body went rigid, his fingers digging in hard enough to raise bruises on my arms. “Tatius…”
    “I said no. You had your chance. Leave.”

Chapter Six
    “Leave, Hermit,” Tatius commanded again.
    One by one the fingers on my arms lifted. Nathanial stepped back. The withdrawal of his body in the space behind me created a chilled abyss. In his absence, panic curled into the newly opened chasm.
    He’s not really leaving. Is he?
    My pulse rushed in my ears. I wanted to turn, to find Nathanial, but Tatius’s hand on my neck kept me still. I twisted in Tatius’s grip, my fists clenching at my sides. My eyes slid to the dagger at his thigh again. He’d said if I hit him again he’d hit back, but if he was planning to kill me anyway…?
    I cocked my arm back. Prepared my punch.
    Fingers slid over my fist and Nathanial stepped into my range of sight.
    “Be calm, Kitten.” The whispered words were gentle, but his grip was tight and the set of his shoulders defensive.
    Tatius cocked a blue eyebrow at Nathanial. “I told you to leave.”
    He didn’t. Nathanial brushed his lips over my still clenched fist. Then he sank onto the couch, not leaving.
    “So be it,” Tatius said and then he lifted his wrist and bit deep. He held out the wrist for me. “Drink.”
    I didn’t want to. I was sure I didn’t want to. But when Tatius tugged me forward, closer to his body and his bleeding wrist, I found my mouth closing over those small punctures.
    “Do not bite me,” Tatius whispered into my hair.
    He told me that last time he forced blood on me too.
    I drank hungrily. When the pulse of his blood slowed, I pulled back. The sweet, coppery taste tainted my senses, filled my body with new warmth. My tongue darted between my lips, searching for lost drops, and Tatius’s fingers flexed on my neck.
    “Drink more,” he commanded again, lifting his wrist.
    My gaze fell to the mostly healed wounds. He cursed and ripped his skin open, wider this time. It looked like it hurt, but he simply shoved the once again bleeding wrist in my face.
    Without using my fangs, my saliva, or maybe Tatius’s ancient body healed his wound quickly. He ripped open his wrist time and again. I hoped it hurt. Nathanial sat ramrod straight on the couch, his eyes locked on us, his expression frayed around the edges.
    A knock sounded, and my head shot up as the door opened.
    “Not exactly perfect timing,” Tatius said, but he smiled at the two women in the doorway.
    The first woman bowed to him before backing out of the room. The other, dressed as—a whore, perhaps?—strolled forward. Tatius’s blood was already warming my limbs,