She needed to shower.
Blood still caked part of her face, and her hair was matted behind her head into a knotted ponytail that had seen better days. Nobody had been brave enough to ask her to wash herself.
The room stunk like death.
And at the same time, the sweet smell of roasted vanilla was finally starting to break through, the blood making my mouth water, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
It smelled like my dreams.
It felt like a nightmare.
“Bathe!” I barked in her general direction, stomping over to the adjoining bathroom and turning on the shower. I returned with a towel and chucked it on the bed then crossed my arms.
She stared at the towel and then at me. “Will you be in here the whole time?”
Her knees moved beneath the covers as she tucked them under her chin and wrapped her arms around her small body, exposing more bites. Bites that made my stomach sick.
What sort of vampire fed off its own kind?
What sort of female vampire didn’t sense danger and flee?
It was a mystery. One I had no business solving. “Look, female, the sooner you bathe, the sooner you feel better and heal, the sooner you can leave.”
She visibly swallowed before giving me a small nod. “Okay.”
I exhaled in relief as my muscles tensed and then relaxed only to repeat the process as she slowly stood to wobbly legs and then glared at me over her shoulder. “And my name isn’t female. It’s Serenity.”
“Of course it is… female.”
Hurt flashed across her face before she jerked her head back toward the bathroom and slowly made her way across the floor.
One foot slid. The other followed.
She paused. Took a breath.
Then winced in pain as she took another step forward and stumbled.
I caught her before her face hit the ground and righted her on her feet as her arms wrapped around my neck.
With a frown, I leaned forward of my own free will, ducking my nose near her neck as I inhaled my fill.
She let out a small gasp, jerking me out of my sudden mating dance.
The hell?
I would have dropped her, but she was leaning so heavily on me it would only injure her further, and as much as I wanted her gone, I wasn’t a complete monster.
Carefully, I pulled her into my arms and carried her into the bathroom. I set her on the closed toilet as I plugged the drain, changing the shower to a bath.
“You will not speak.” My voice sounded like nails; it was rusty, cold, angry. “You will not touch me.” I filled the tub. “You will stay as still as physically possible. I will help you bathe. You will return to your bed. You will sleep.”
“Please.” She piped up.
I snapped my head in her direction, tilting it left then right in a predatory way. “Please?”
“You forgot please.”
“I did not forget. I merely decided not to use it.”