Page 40 of The Vampire's Guide to Wooing a Curator
“Jonathan!” Felicity rolled him onto his back.
He should have reassured her he was well, that he only needed a moment for his injuries to heal.
But they didn’t heal.
It was just like after the latest fledgling attack. He couldn’t even lift his head without feeling like he was going to cast up his accounts. Was this the end? Would he die lying in a filthy alley with a hunter screaming his name?
He certainly hoped not.
Something warm touched his lips. He flicked out his tongue and caught a drop of rich honey. When he opened his eyes, his face was pressed against a shallow wound on Felicity’s neck.
“What… are you… doing?” he managed to ask.
“Keeping you alive.” Felicity slipped the crucifix off his head. “Drink.”
The compulsion pulsed through him. His fangs extended in a flash, and he sank them deep into her flesh. Her blood burst into his mouth, as tart and sweet as juice squeezed from a freshly picked orange.
His instincts urged him to drain her, but that would make him no better than the fledglings they’d killed, and the thought of living without her made his skull ache. So, as difficult as it wasto release her when everything inside him longed for more, he forcibly retracted his fangs and licked her wound until it healed.
He wasn’t surprised when she replaced the beaded chain. What she said next, however, made ice form over his heart.
“Take me to your haven.”
No.
That was what he wanted to say, but it would have been pointless, as the command jolted his exhausted body into action. He lifted her in his arms, took several jerky steps, then lurched into a run. They sped through the streets until they reached the front door of the building where he spent his daylight hours.
“Go inside,” Felicity whispered.
He mentally fought against the compulsion, urging his aching legs to remain still, but it was no use. He ascended the steps one at a time, boots stomping each tread with such force that he was surprised none of his neighbors opened their windows and shouted to keep it down. A footman opened the door for them, but when the young man met Jonathan’s gaze, he turned as pale as the wainscoting.
Jonathan lifted a finger to his lips. He’d let Felicity make him dance like a marionette before he allowed his siblings to learn he’d brought a hunter into his haven. He couldn’t sense them nearby, but they could return at any moment.
The footman gulped, then nodded.
“Take me to your room,” Felicity said.
He did so, but the moment he crossed the threshold and she did not bark another command, his legs buckled and he collapsed. She squirmed out from beneath him and laid his head on her lap.
He groaned. “No more.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do. You were too weak to move on your own.”
She was, unfortunately, correct. The werewolves might have been content to watch them suffer in the alley, but that situation would not have lasted long. Given that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to lift him, using the crucifix had likely saved both of their lives.
He reached up and tugged a lock of her black hair. “You could have left me to die.”
She scoffed. “You aren’t getting out of our deal that easily.”
His laugh was cut off by a hacking cough. When he could breathe again without wheezing, he grabbed her arm and wiped his mouth with her sleeve.
“Excuse me!” She wrenched her arm free and inspected the stain.
He grinned. “What? It’s your blood. I thought you’d want it back.”
The outraged sound she made triggered another bout of coughing. This time, it lasted several minutes. He was glad his siblings weren’t nearby to hear. Being caught in Felicity’s arms would do little to convince the rest of his nest that there was nothing going on between him and the hunter.
“I wonder what Great-Uncle Ezra would say if he saw me now,” she said. “Likely expel me from the base. He’s so set on me not…”
