As she turned with an amazing speed—a speed he’d seen other vampires use before—she faced his brother with her hands at her hips, and her legs set in a wide stance—as wide as her tight dress with the ripped seam allowed. She was ready to attack.
“It won’t turn him,” Yvette claimed.
“Sure, you’d say that.”
“It’s true. A human has to be on the verge of death to be turned. Merely drinking vampire blood when alive doesn’t turn you into a vampire.” She tossed Wesley another angry glare. “You should be grateful that I’m even offering it. No vampire shares his blood lightly. It’s a privilege. I should just let him suffer for what he’s gotten me and Kimberly into.”
Haven wondered whether he could believe her. Would it truly be safe to take her blood? He shifted his position, the move sending a bolt of pain through his body. Damn, this was worse than he’d thought. He looked down at the large gashes on his stomach. The sight of his angry flesh conjured up nausea and something else: a tiny twinge of fear that the injuries were more severe than he’d thought at first. If he passed out again, who’d take care of Wesley? “Why are you offering, then?”
Yvette growled. “I’m not anymore.” To Haven she said, “Your brother has just sealed your fate. Go ahead, see whether you two can stop the bleeding. My work’s done.” Clearly pissed off, she turned away from them, walked to the cots at the opposite wall and slumped down on one. “Why should I even care?”
Damn him if she didn’t look hurt. How was that possible? Haven pulled himself to a sitting position, despite the pain it caused him. Could it be that her humanity was truly stronger than her animal side, and that she really wanted to help him?
“What will your blood do to me?”
“Hav! Are you crazy?”
“Stay out of this, Wes.” For once, he wished his brother wouldn’t be so protective of him.
“You’re assuming I’m still willing to give it to you.” Yvette pouted. Nothing of her vamp side was visible. She was all hurt woman right now, her arms crossed over her chest, a defiant glare in her eyes. Did she know that her posture emphasized the plump swells of her breasts, making them a focal point Haven couldn’t take his eyes off?
“What if I asked you nicely?” He’d definitely gone over the cliff now. Had he just asked her to give him her blood? What the hell was wrong with him?
Wesley threw up his hands. “You’re mad! You’re totally mad! If you do this, I’ll never speak to you again. Do you hear me?”
Haven waved his brother off. Wes was full of hot air. He’d calm down later.
At Wesley’s words, Yvette smirked. “Just to piss off your little brother, I’ll do it.”
His heart shouldn’t jump like that just because she’d agreed, yet it did. Excitement coursed through him, even though he had no idea what to expect. What if he gagged on her blood? What if it tasted disgusting?
But there was no turning back now. Yvette was already walking toward him again. When she dropped down next to him, he sensed the warmth of her body and smelled the orange scent of her skin. She moved behind him.
“Lean back.”
He eased back until his back connected with her chest.
“Idiot!” Wesley chastised, but he ignored him.
Feeling Yvette’s body so close to his was all he could deal with right now. Haven turned his head to the side and watched her as she bit her own wrist. He only caught a quick glimpse of her sharp fangs as they dug into her flesh and pierced the skin, but the sight made him shiver.
Blood instantly oozed from her wrist, and she brought it to his mouth. “Just suckle from it.”
“How much?”
“Your body will know when to stop.” Her voice was low and husky, so sinful, it made the little hairs on his nape rise. Fear rose with it, but it was drowned out by the soft press of her breasts against his back and the warmth it sent through his body.
Haven set his lips to her open vein and took a tentative lick.
“Eew!” Wesley’s disgusted groan barely registered. Instead, a taste of richness coated his tongue. As it reached the back of his throat, an explosion of flavors hit him: oranges, cinnamon, cloves. Spicy and rich, it filled his mouth. He took more, wanting to prolong the experience. He’d always thought blood would taste metallic and stale, but this was so different from anything he’d ever known. Her blood was fresh and young, vibrant and rich at the same time.
Haven couldn’t stop the moan that started deep in his chest and burst from his throat. With one hand, he gripped her arm and drew her closer, so she wouldn’t pull away from him. He felt her breasts press harder into his back and her head lean against his. Her warm breath blew against his nape.