“If he hadn’t lied to her about being a vampire, she could have asked him. She would have been sired by him, not half-assed sired by me.” More tears fell, and she dashed them with furious impatience. “This is his fault almost as much as mine.”
“Wait a second. You’re saying you tried to sire her? Not drink her? You would have had to drain her to the point of mortal death—” He fumbled for Emily’s pulse, and found a faint, thready beat that wouldn’t have sustained a rabbit. “Jesus Christ. She’s nearly dead.”
He whipped off his coat and stared at his mate as if he’d never seen her before. And in many ways, he never had. What could have possessed her to do something so stupid? So utterly dangerous?
“She wanted it. You’re not listening to me. She begged me to sire her. To try. She was sure it would work, but it didn’t. And in the end, she didn’t give me a choice.” Sydney snatched at the bloody knife lying beside Emily’s knee. “She cut herself. Above the jugular. I had no choice. And God, the smell, the taste….” She buried her face in her hands, her body wracked with silent sobs. “I didn’t stop. I just kept taking and taking more. And she scarcely drank from me after.” Absently, she fingered the fading marks on her wrist. “I took too much, didn’t I?”
“Very bloody likely. Which isn’t surprising, because you don’t have a clue what you’re doing.” Little of her story made sense to him—since when did Emily want to be a vampire?—but he didn’t have time to ask questions.
He also didn’t have a choice. She was too far gone to be brought back as a human. Emily had to become a vampire or she would die.
And what that meant for him and Sydney, and for Lucas and Emily, he couldn’t stop to think about. They would all have to live with the decision he had to make, but right now he had to act.
“I need you to listen to me and to do everything I say. First, lock that door.”
She scrambled up to comply, then rushed back to his side.
“Cover her mouth,” he told her as he unbuttoned Emily’s starchy blouse. “She may start to scream, and you need to keep her quiet. Don’t cut off her airflow. She’ll need every bit of air she can get until she changes over.”
If she changes over. But he didn’t voice that part aloud.
When he briskly unfastened Emily’s bra, Sydney stared at him. “Why are you undressing her?”
“I have to bite her in the heart.” At her gasp, he stripped the cups of Emily’s bra away. He left her with as much modesty as he could and still access her heart. “It’s the only thing that will shock her system enough to revive her. When that happens, I have seconds to get my blood into her system. So you need to keep her quiet while I’m bringing her back, but once I have, she’ll need my blood. And possibly yours, too.”
Sydney nodded. “Whatever she needs. Oh God, thank you for coming. For knowing I needed you.”
But yet she hadn’t called. She hadn’t reached out even when her supposed best friend’s life was at stake.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he said under his breath, lowering his mouth to Emily’s chest.
He didn’t hesitate. Her skin, so soft and pale with the last blush of life, would have proved irresistible even if he hadn’t been charged with bringing her back from the brink. Once his fangs pierced her flesh and her rich, luscious essence spurted onto his tongue, he was lost.
It had been weeks since he’d had anything but bagged blood. The craving consumed him. Driven by his own mindless hunger, he fed eagerly, not wasting a drop. But still, he managed to pull back when the weak pump of her heart began to slow even further and the torrent of blood in his mouth eased to a steady trickle.
“Now,” he gasped, and picked up the blade at Emily’s knee. He slashed his wrist and handed the knife to Sydney, then clamped his wrist over Emily’s mouth.
She hadn’t screamed, he realized. Had barely even moaned. Her lips parted with a flash of white. Teeth. Not fangs, not yet. He forced her mouth open wider and rubbed his wrist back and forth while her lids fluttered as if electricity sparked under her skin. Then, slowly, oh so slowly, she began to swallow the liquid that splashed her chin and cheeks.
“More.” His voice was little more than a rumble.
“Do you need me?”
Sydney’s voice came from far away. He glanced up and saw her clutching the wrist she’d slashed open again to her own lips. Her pupils dilated under his intent stare.
“Always.”
“My blood. I mean, does she….”
“She doesn’t. Not right now.” The room seemed to contract and expand in dizzying waves. He knew the sensation well. He’d felt it after the night he’d almost drained Sydney in her car. Likewise, he’d given too much of his blood to Emily, and now he was starving.
He drew her arm toward him. “But I do.”
Kellan expected her to resist. Her eyes were wide with nerves and arousal, and the scent that poured off her reflected both. But she came closer willingly, and cradled her other arm around his head when he began to feed.
He knew he moaned at the first taste of her after being so long denied. Pleasure saturated every pore as her bitterly sweet blood undulated through him like a warm riptide. It opened the clenched channels inside him, easing the emptiness he’d carried since she’d left.
He sensed rather than saw her settling Emily’s head on her lap. She still drew from him even while he fed from Sydney, an oddly fulfilling erotic chain. Emily took what was dark and cold inside him while Sydney gave him back his life.