However, he regretted everything about their original encounter and many of the things that followed. He would give anything to start over and do it right, but it was too late for that. Even if he could control her mind and change her memories, he realized he wouldn’t do it.
No, he’d made his mistakes, and he would live with the consequences of them, but he would not mess with her head.
“It’s not painful if you don’t fight it, and if I could take control of their minds, they wouldn’t know I was doing it,” he said.
He turned away before she could question him further, and after some hesitation, she followed him into the house.
Chapter Eleven
Once inside, Lucien clasped her elbow again. She almost jerked it free, but his tender touch helped guide her around the broken board in the rotting floor.
A rank, mildew scent filled the air. It mingled with the stench of something more acrid—urine and feces. Her nose wrinkled, and she pulled her shirt up to cover her nose and mouth. The thin material did little to block out the stench as he released her.
When she retreated a couple of steps back toward the open doorway, Lucien turned to look at her. He prepared to chase her if she bolted, but she didn’t look ready to run; she simply looked horrified and slightly green.
“We won’t stay long,” he assured her.
And then he hated himself for making her stay here at all. Somehow, he would make this up to her. He had no idea how and no idea why he cared, but he would do it.
He picked his way carefully across the floor, but the boards were surprisingly steady and didn’t sag under his weight. Crossing through the doorway, he stepped into another room that he assumed was once the living room with its brick fireplace and numerous windows. Those windows were all boarded over now, but one of them still had checkered blue and white curtains surrounding it.
He held his hand back to keep Callie away, but she crept forward. He tried to block the doorway, but she peered around him to take in the people in the room.
Two of them shared the same dirty mattress as they slept together. One sat against the wall with an empty bottle of whiskey by his side. A fourth lay on another bed with sheets and a small blanket tucked around her. Spread around the woman were a few personal items, including pictures of a family.
Upon closer inspection, Callie realized the woman stood proudly in the middle of that photo. She looked far different than the vibrant woman beaming at the camera. She had her arms draped around the shoulders of two children who were hugging her back. That woman’s brown hair shone; this woman’s graying brown hair was lank and dull from grease. Her face was far more lined, and she was a good twenty pounds thinner.
Callie couldn’t tear her gaze away from the photo. This whole place was horrible, but there was something infinitely sad about the woman, her small space, and the picture. The needles, drug paraphernalia, and liquor bottles spread around the others revealed what demons the other three possessed. Still, there was nothing to indicate what brought the woman to this place.
“Stay here,” Lucien said to her.
He didn’t look back as the incessant thump of the hearts lured him further into the room. He was practically drooling by the time he knelt in front of the man slumped against the wall.
Though he didn’t think the man would wake up, he pressed his palm over his mouth as he leaned closer. Usually, the stench of booze and cigarettes wafting from the man would turn him away, but it did nothing to dull his excitement.
Some dim part of his mind realized he shouldn’t do this in front of her. However, he’d been pushed past his breaking point, and nothing would deter him.
He kept his hand against the man’s mouth as he sank his fangs into his throat. A small twitch was the only reaction the man gave, but he didn’t wake.
Lucien tasted the alcohol in the blood fueling him as it seeped into his system and dulled the fire in his veins. He gulped the blood down as he drank more greedily than ever before.
Dimly, he heard the sounds of slurping and realized he was making the noise. He’d become more demon than human, but that realization didn’t slow him. When he bit deeper, more blood spurted into his mouth, and he suppressed a groan as he finally fed.
So lost to the frenzy of his bloodlust, he didn’t hear her approach until Callie rested a hand on his shoulder. He recognized her touch but didn’t acknowledge her.
Callie watched in horror as Lucien took more and more blood from the unconscious man. She’d been around animals her entire life; she’d grown up on a farm and knew one of the worst things anyone could do was get between an animal and their prey, but she couldn’t stand by and watch him destroy this man.
It could be the biggest mistake of her life, but she shook him; he didn’t acknowledge her. Growing increasingly scared for the man, she shook him harder. His shoulder bone dug into her palm as she yanked on him.
“Lucien,” she whispered as the color faded from the man’s already pale face. “Lucien, stop!”
Lucien’s blood thundered in his ears as he hunched closer to the man while Callie jerked on him again. Finally, he released his bite and spun toward her. She gasped and, staggering back, held out her hands to ward him off.
Lucien was about to launch himself at her when reality crashed down on him. He pulled back and rested his hand on the ground as his shoulders hunched and his head bowed. He’d been about to kill the man, and then he’d been about to kill her.
Even with the fresh influx of blood in his system, he was still on the verge of losing complete control. He took a deep breath as he grappled for control. When he was sure he wouldn’t attack, he lifted his head and met her wide, unblinking eyes.
“You’re safe with me,” he promised.
He realized how insane that sounded, considering she was standing in the middle of an abandoned house with an unhinged vampire and surrounded by garbage, drugs, and who knew what else creeping through the shadows.
“I’m better,” he said and hoped it was true. “I still need more, but I’m better. Why don’t you go stand in the hallway?”
“No, I’m staying,” she said and glanced at the woman behind her.
Lucien realized she didn’t trust him enough to leave him alone with them. He didn’t argue with her; he didn’t trust himself right now either.
Rising, he started toward the couple but staggered to the side. He almost crashed into the wall when the blood rushed to his head. It was more than the influx of fresh blood that left him dizzy and unsteady; it was also the amount of alcohol in the man’s system. Normally, he might get a small buzz when he fed on someone who was intoxicated, but he maintained control.
Now, he weighed a good thirty pounds less than a month ago, he had little food supply to absorb the alcohol’s effects, and he was feeling it a lot more than usual.
He rested his hand on the wall and steadied himself before staggering over to the couple and falling to his knees beside the man. He placed his hand over the man’s mouth and leaned forward to sink his fangs to his shoulder. This time, the man didn’t twitch as Lucien began to feed.
He didn’t know what the man was on, but Lucien almost recoiled at the acrid taste of his blood. However, as he was considering retreating, his body begged for more, and he couldn’t deny it the sustenance it so desperately required.