New Year's Affliction (Midnight Moonlight, Book 2)

By Eren Reverie

Werewolves are real. Abigail is dating one. Vampires are real, too. Abigail has a disanimated one in her boyfriend's trunk, and, worse: now she is one. In a world that has turned out to be crazier than she is, Abigail is going to have to move fast, think faster, take risks and stop freaking out about her unexpectedly active love life if she wants to survive.

Oh, and she'll have to drink some blood. It gets... scary... when she forgets to drink the blood...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Eren Reverie
• Release date: Jun 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311460615

Eren Reverie

Hi! Eren here. I’m a married, transgender, bi (but distinctly lesbian leaning) 30-something recovering-caffeine addict. I’d like to say I’m a full-time housewife and professional author, but the fact is that I’m currently a part-time housewife and professional cubical occupant.These stories are my attempt to turn that around and achieve some of my dreams. Specifically, I’d like to become a professional write-from-home author and housewife, and never have to dwell in a cubical again.I enjoy adventures, comedies, non-traditional romances, interwoven story arcs, most sorts of kinky goodness and juxtaposing the bizarre and larger than life with the daily and mundane... so those are the sorts of stories I’ll be trying to tell. (Although honesty behooves me to admit that I am a shy girl, and the amount of explicit eroticism you’ll find in my work will depend entirely on how much the story demands and how fiercely embarrassed I become while writing it!)Thank you for joining me on my journeys of imagination.

Book preview

It had been, if I may be permitted an understatement, one hell of a year.  I’d gotten a boyfriend.  His name was Hans and he was a werewolf.  I’d found out my boss, Mr. Salvatore, was a vampire and wanted to kill my best friend, Megan.  She was in love with me.  But I’d only discovered that after making out with another woman, which may or may not have counted as cheating on Hans since I hadn’t really claimed him as my boyfriend until after we’d been attacked by a small army of goblins.

Oh, and my boss?  I’d killed him.  But in all fairness, he’d killed me first.

Yeah, it had been one hell of a year.  All of that had happened yesterday.  Thank God that had been New Year’s Eve.  Hopefully this year wouldn’t be so bad.

It was off to a good start, I thought.  I was sucking blood from Hans’ shoulder like a nursing infant.  A nursing infant from hell, but at least the influx of life in my veins kept the sun from burning me.  The heat coming off my raging apartment fire was bad enough.  Did I mention that my apartment had burned down last year?  Well, technically it had only caught fire last year, and was burning down this one.  Whatever.  I hadn’t gone to sleep yet and everyone knows that the next day doesn’t technically start until you wake up to greet it, so the whole fire thing was getting tacked on to last year in my calendar.  It was a good thing I didn’t have neighbors – I’d lived in a single story studio unit, so at least I didn’t have to feel guilty that anyone else’s worldly possessions were being incinerated.

I squirmed against Hans’ chest and kept drinking.  I couldn’t really help myself – he just tasted so damn good!  Besides, infants are supposed to be selfish, right?

I caught myself idly wondering how that would work.  When I’d been alive, I’d been twenty-four years old.  But whenever they talked about how old a vampire was in the movies, they were always really talking about how long he’d been dead.  Did that mean I had to start over again?  Would I have to wait another twenty-one years before I could legally drink drunks?  I mean… not that I was prone to drinking when I was alive.  But still.  I was dead now; that seemed like the sort of thing that would drive someone to alcoholism.

I decided that as long as I’d been dead for less time than I’d been alive, I’d use my living age.  Not because I was worried about getting carded at bars, but because Hans was sexy as hell.  When he’d stormed into my apartment, shotgun blazing, and put down Mr. Salvatore’s still mobile, burning corpse… well, I’d decided in the heat of the moment that as soon as I got over my issues with sex I was going to screw Hans’ brains out.

I really didn’t think I could do that if it meant he was a pedophile, so twenty-four years it was.

My fangs receded as I had my fill.  I guess they were symptomatic of being ‘dead’ and now that I’d had enough of Hans’ blood to be ‘alive’ they were clearing up.  The morning sun even felt pleasant now.

I didn’t care.  I kept gnawing on Hans’ shoulder anyway, hoping it would give up just a little bit more.  God, he tasted good!  I mean, not as good as Megan, but still – Hans’ blood fell into a category of taste I’d never before known existed.  I named that category ‘better than bacon’ and it was pretty much exactly what it said on the label.

Unfortunately, a side-effect of feeding on someone was apparently that they got a taste of vampiric powers while I was getting a taste of their life.  The wound my fangs had opened on Hans’ shoulder closed of its own volition, and soon I was just lapping at his skin through two ragged holes in his shirt.  He was probably going to end up with a lot of weirdly placed hickies if we kept dating.

Hans held me against his broad chest.  His hand cradled the back of my head and soothingly stroked my hair.  Abby, he said to get my attention.  Abby?

I’m not sure how long he’d been trying to get through to me, but now that I could hear him his voice sent a thrill through me.

It’s crazy, but I’m a sucker for a foreign accent.  Or any accent, really.  I’m too much of an agoraphobe to be comfortable going out to the neighborhood store, but men with accents from far flung lands get me going.  Crazy, like I said, but… Well, hell.  It didn’t help that Hans’ accent was attached to a blonde haired, blue eyed muscular Viking Adonis with a boyish smile and gentle demeanour that tended to turn devilish in the bedroom.

Mmmmm? I replied.  I’d started nibbling my way to his neck.  I felt aggressive.  Aroused.  Primal.  I wondered if that was how Hans usually felt.  When Mr. Salvatore had fed on me he’d gotten paranoid.  It seemed that vampires fed on more of a person than just their blood.  We fed on life.  One of the fae had told me that vampires consumed the souls of others in order to pretend they had their own.

Abby, you need to stop, Hans said.  I growled in protest.  I need to get my shirt off, he tried to explain.

Oh.  Oh, that was okay then.

I sat in Hans’ lap.  My rather savage thoughts were looking forward to fucking him senseless much sooner than I ever figured I’d be ready to.

In fact, I was eager enough that I recoiled in confusion.  That wasn’t me.  Sex freaked me out!  I only had sex vicariously through erotica, ecchi manga, Megan’s reminiscences and wildly inappropriate fantasies!  I stared at Hans in disbelief.  If that was how he felt all the time, then how the hell did Hans keep stopping himself from ravaging me?  So far I’d gotten him unfairly riled up at least twice – so he’d had at least two opportunities to do whatever he wanted to me even though I’d inevitably freaked out half way through messing around and told him to stop.

Hans smiled lopsidedly at me and shifted me out of his lap.  I sat on the pavement next to the wheel of his Hummer and blinked at him as he stood up.  He stepped away from me and stripped off his shirt.

The borrowed primal desires seemed fractured as my normal personality started to reassert itself, but I still wanted to jump him.  I mean, come on:  Adonis.  Topless.  Muscles rippling, backlit by a raging fire, skin glistening; broad shoulders – plus there was the whole ‘holy fuck, I’m still alive!’ endorphin rush going on.

Of course, the fire consisted of my every worldly belonging.  That detracted a little.

Hans balled up his tee-shirt and chucked it into the flames.  I blinked again.  Oh, right.  It had been soaked with blood from when Mr. Salvatore had stabbed him.  There were sirens approaching and torn, bloody clothing might be hard to explain.  I wondered what our explanation was going to be.  Given that Megan and I were still dressed for clubbing and Hans was fucking hot, a ménage a trois gone wrong suggested itself to me.

I made a mental note to never line a headboard with candles.

Hans turned and marched back to his car.  He opened the back door.  I swallowed.  The lump of charcoal that used to be Mr. Salvatore was in there, wrapped up in the ruin of a quilt my mom had made for me.  When Hans got back out, he had another tee shirt on.

I guess it made sense for a werewolf to keep a change of clothes handy at all times.  It was still a little disappointing, though.

I scrambled to my feet then, too.  A fire truck was turning into the drive at the far end of the apartment parking lot.  What do we say? I asked Hans.

The truth, he said.  Or close enough.  I’ll make sure the appropriate authorities know the whole story.  For anyone who needs a mundane explanation: Salvatore was obsessed with Megan.  After the party at the office he hunted you down because she didn’t show and you’re her best friend.

I nodded.  He made me call her, but she knew something was wrong.  She pepper sprayed him, I recollected.

Right, said Hans.  So you two drove him off.

He knocked her out, I said angrily.

Hans grimaced.  Which makes this part easier, he said.  "You drove him off and called me.  I showed up just in time to see him chuck a Molotov through the window.  He sees me and runs; I help you and Megan get out, and here we are."

I clung to Hans.  Okay, I said.  Maybe I’d let him do the talking.  It was a little disturbing that he’d come up with that so easily – but then again, I usually make up crazy stories, not sane ones.  And it was even more disturbing that ‘my boss firebombed my apartment in a fit of jaded heartbreak’ wasn’t crazy compared to what had really gone down.

Megan stirred as the sirens arrived.  She started to slowly pick herself up, and Hans let go of me to rush to her side.  I didn’t begrudge him for doing it since I’d let go of him to do the same.

Mr. Salvatore hit you, I told Megan.  I was holding her hand; Hans was holding her supportively – and keeping her from getting up.  You hit your head on the bedpost and passed out.

Oh, Megan said dazedly.  I knew something was wrong, Abby.  I knew it.  Your doors weren’t locked and you’d asked me to come here in a cab.  You hate cabs.

I swallowed and smiled at her.  For some reason my eyes were getting watery.  I do, I said.  As far as I was concerned, cabbies were way too likely to just be licensed kidnappers.  Shoot, the fare you pay to an honest one is just the ransom you had to pay to get them to let you go – and who knew when one might just decide it wasn’t enough and then lock you up in a pit in their cellar, anyway?

You should try to stay still, Hans said.  We don’t know how badly you were hurt.  You might be concussed.

Megan tried to get up again anyway, but Hans held her back and gave her a stern look.

I feel fine, Megan muttered, but Hans glared her into subsiding.

I was just as glad.  Megan was fine – but she hadn’t been.  She’d been hurt pretty badly, and so had I, and…  When a vampire takes in someone’s life force, the sharing isn’t one way.  I’d tasted Megan’s life to keep myself alive, and in the process she’d been healed, too.  The same as with Hans: Vampires don’t leave holes in people’s necks.  Symbiotic healing for the win, right?

But even though I knew it had helped her, I couldn’t bring myself to look at Megan.  I’d licked blood off her face.  Twice.  While she was unconscious.

At the time, I hadn’t cared about anything except surviving.  Hell, at the time I’d wanted to slit her throat and drain her dry.  Now I felt like I’d violated her horribly, and she hadn’t even been conscious to say no.

I’d been a monster just as vile as Mr. Salvatore.

And if I ever got hungry again, I’d wind up right back there, wouldn’t I?  I felt myself start to tremble.

Oh god.  I was a monster.

Hans waved over one of the fire fighters that had arrived.  I barely heard him telling the man that there was no one inside, or that the adjoining unit was unoccupied.  Rugged men in uniforms that usually would have set my imagination to drooling over how they comported themselves in the privacy of the fire house dashed about in a vain attempt to contain the blaze of my home – and I didn’t care.

I was a monster, and for the moment at least I was alive enough to realize it.  I clung to Megan and buried my face against her shoulder and started to sob.  In my hunger last night I’d thought about killing her, and it hadn’t even bothered me!

Megan’s arms slid around me.  She tried to hug me soothingly but I pulled away.  She looked up at me: confused; hurt?  I couldn’t tell.  My vision was too blurry, but I imagined the worst.  I started to cry harder.  Megan was my best friend.  She loved me.  I’d given my life to save her from Mr. Salvatore.

Was there any way I’d be able to save her from myself?

Chapter 2

The paramedics arrived on the heels of the firefighters and I gave up my hold on Megan to let them take her. In fact, I insisted she let them load her into their ambulance despite her protestations that she felt fine. I wasn't going to let her take chances with her health even though I was pretty sure she was okay.

Besides, it wasn't like she couldn't afford a trip to the ER — and maybe she'd meet a nice doctor or two and forget about me. I was still grappling with the fact that I'd become a monster. An occasionally soulless monster. I was pretty sure the only way to keep her safe from me was to keep her away from me.

A police officer kept Hans and I from going to the hospital until he'd gotten statements from us. Hans did most of the talking. I stammered a few things that had nothing to do with werewolves, goblins, or vampires and counted it as a win. The officer seemed to conclude that I was in shock and went back to pumping Hans for details on what had gone down.

Truth be told, maybe I was in shock — but I was also terrified that the officer would realize I was a menace to society and lock me in a cell forever. I mean... I was a fucking vampire, now. Before I'd just been crazy. Now I was a crazy vampire. I did my best not to giggle. The last thing I needed was to start giggling like a madwoman while my house burned and an officer of the law was watching.

When the police officer let us go, Hans guided me into the passenger seat of his car. I sat while he went and spoke to one of the fire fighters. It was a brief conversation, but I smelled smoke and ash through all of it. I wasn't sure if that was my apartment or Mr. Salvatore's corpse in the back seat. In either case, my stomach roiled unpleasantly.

When Hans came back he got in the driver's seat. I told him we were going to the hospital and gave him my number in case anything could be salvaged, but it isn't looking likely, he said.

I shook my head. It's a writeoff, I said glumly. Everything I owned in the world. All of my manga. Shit, the only clothes I had left were the ones I was wearing — a gothy corset top with a too-short, frilly skirt. Some torn stockings. High heels. Jewelry. And after last night none of it was looking exactly like new.

I choked on a lump in my throat and looked away. I didn't want Hans to see my face all flushed. I had to look like hell. It was particularly mortifying since this was the sluttiest outfit I'd ever owned. I'd never intended for Hans to see me in it, but if he'd been going to I would've preferred it not to have been right after I'd been murdered in it. God, what would my mom have said if she'd had to go to the morgue to ID me and I'd been dressed like... like... Like a gothic ballerina hooker who'd just set her pimp's house on fire after he'd slapped her around?

Hans reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. Then he started the car, backed out of the parking space, and carefully maneuvered around the fire trucks.

We sat in silence while he drove. I suspect Megan had coached him on some of the things that freak me out. Driving is one of them, though I can manage it if I have to. Riding along is easier, though. At least, it is as long as I'm not distracting the driver with conversation.

If I ever am in a gruesome car accident I don't want it to be my fault. Not since dad had made a point of drilling me on how easy it would be to miss some detail, kill a bunch of people, and then have to live with the guilt of it for the rest of my life — a life I'd probably spend as a functional paraplegic with a severed spine, being tube-fed pudding and unable to do anything except think about what I'd done.

Yes, I have issues.

I was especially glad Hans was driving, though, because I didn't have a clue where we were going. I don't go out much. I'm afraid of getting lost, and I get lost easily. I can reliably travel between my home, my work, and Megan's home — but that's about it. I suppose there's the store and Fumiko's house, too. But anywhere else? I wouldn't be able to find it without a map, a GPS, and a few hours of intermittent panic attacks.

Eventually we pulled into a great big parking lot at the hospital. I blinked my way out of my fugue. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be anywhere near Megan.

I've always been scattered, flighty; a little bit crazy. Often my imagination hasn't been nice. But now? Now I couldn't even trust myself to not be murderous.

What are we doing? I asked Hans.

Hans looked at me. Maybe he thought I was in shock, too. Maybe I was. We're going to check on Megan and see what she remembers, he said. And I'm going to have to call some people about Mr. Salvatore. He hesitated, then sighed. And about you, he said.

I nodded. I guess that was to be expected. I was dangerous, now. There was a whole center dedicated to containing and rehabilitating out of control vampires. I was probably going to spend a few decades locked up. After all, I'd killed Mr. Salvatore. You don't really get more out of control than 'murderous arsonist.'

Okay, I said. Hans started to get out of the car, but I stopped him. But Hans, I said, I don't want to. See Megan, I mean. I stared at my hands. I was too ashamed of what I'd done, what I'd wanted to do — what I could have done, to explain why.

But maybe Hans understood, in his own fashion. He was cursed, too. Alright, he said quietly. Come inside, out of the sun. I'll check on her and make sure the appropriate people know what happened.

I nodded. I could do that.

Hans took me in through the ER's walk in entrance. He set me up in the waiting room and went to the desk to inquire about Megan. I felt guiltier. I should have been the one checking on Megan. She was my best friend. But now... now I was in no position to watch out for her. She needed someone else.

I could still remember the taste of Megan's blood; the rush I'd felt from just tasting it. And how badly I'd wanted more. If Mr. Salvatore hadn't gone off the deep end and leapt at us, I might have....

I squeezed my eyes shut against the thought. 'Might' was a lie. I would have. Megan didn't just need someone else. She needed someone who could protect her from me. My eyes opened. I felt like my heart had dropped out of my chest.

I knew exactly who she needed.

Katherine.

Katherine had kept Megan away from Mr. Salvatore before I'd even known he really was a vampire — back when I'd just accused him of it because he was my boss and I needed an irrational reason to explain my irrational fear of authority figures. Katherine had managed Mr. Salvatore's harem of blood donors, and she had managed to keep Megan out of it. Katherine knew vampires backward and forward.

Best of all, Katherine loved Megan.

Oh, and hated me.

My hands were shaky as I rummaged through my purse and dug out my phone. I didn't have Katherine's number, but I did have Emma's. Emma was Katherine's friend. She could convey a message.

I pulled up the text I'd received from Emma when she'd decided I should have her number. It was a somewhat out of focus selfie of us kissing last night. I was supposed to share it with my boyfriend on the premise that I'd asked him if it was okay if I made out with her and it had turned out that he was into that. In actuality, I'd freaked out and called Megan when Emma had propositioned me, and Hans was still completely in the dark about her.

More guilt for me. Yay. At least I had a good shot of getting the emo vampire thing down.

I hit dial before I could talk myself out of it. Emma picked up on the second ring.

Abby? She asked frantically. "Is everything okay? Did you find Megan? Katie is freaking out."

I winced. Katie was Katherine. Or rather, Katherine was Katie to her friends. I still couldn't quite believe that there were people who dared be that familiar with Katherine — or that Katherine didn't have them flogged for it — but I'd heard both Emma and Megan get away with using the diminutive name. I'd used it myself, once, to trick Mr. Salvatore into thinking I was a friend of Katherine's. And even though Mr. Salvatore was now a lump of charcoal in the back of Hans' Hummer, I still sort of expected Katherine to find out about it and take off my hide in strips for retribution.

Megan's okay, I said. She's at the hospital but she's fine. I'm here too. Can you tell Katherine? She should know.

Yeah, Emma said. Yes, of course. Which hospital? We'll be right there. What happened?

I answered Emma's first question, but ignored the second. I'm in the waiting room by the ER, I told her instead. Hans is checking on Megan and letting the authorities know about Mr. Salvatore.

We'll be there as soon as we can, Emma assured me.

Okay, I said shakily. The sooner they got here and someone was with Megan, the sooner I could leave and get far, far away from her. And the sooner the better, because if I started getting hungry again I might start forgetting how wrong it would be to murder my best friend and chug her blood like a frat boy with a rubber hose and a beer keg. Thanks, I said before I hung up.

Then I stared at the phone in my hands for a while. I could leave when Katherine got here, but where would I go? My apartment was a burnt out ruin. I was dirty and stank of smoke. I wanted a shower and a fluffy bed piled high with blankets and quilts and pillows I could hide under and sleep until I didn't feel so damn emo anymore, but I didn't even have a change of clothes.

Normally if I'd been struck by a disaster like this I would have gone running to Megan. I'd have a panic attack, she'd get me over it, and life would go on without this descent into depression. That wasn't an option anymore. My only other friend was Fumiko, but I wasn't about to put her at risk, either.

I could possibly afford a hotel for a few nights, but that was it. I wasn't rich by any stretch of the imagination. But I didn't really think a hotel was a good idea, anyway. I don't do well around strangers in the best of circumstances, and I didn't even want to think about what I would do in a crowded place if I got hungry. I used to liken my studio apartment to a canned lunch waiting for a zombie apocalypse. And that made hotels the vampiric equivalent of a vending machine. I bet since the rooms weren't really 'homes' I wouldn't even need to ask permission to enter one. And I had no idea how long it would be before I got hungry. Was it like normal food? Would I need three 'meals' a day? What the hell would I do about that?

I was lost in that depressing spiral when Hans came back. I checked in with Megan, he told me. She is fine. They moved her to the second floor for observation and to wait for a policeman to get her statement. She didn't witness anything supernatural, so that went smoothly enough.

Hans sat down next to me. I haven't called everyone I need to yet, but I did talk to a witch on the hospital staff. He assured me that Megan's aura is in good shape, so it's unlikely she's feeling traumatized. She should make a full recovery, all around. Hans took my hand gently. Megan did ask for you.

I nodded. You should make your other calls, I told Hans. I'm waiting for Katherine to get here so Megan has someone to sit with her. I stared at my hands, and at Hans' hand engulfing one. I turned to look up at him. Hans was doing a much better job of coping than I was, but when he looked at me I could see the worry and concern behind his normally cheerful eyes. Hans, I asked tentatively, When Katherine gets here... Can I go home with you?

Chapter 3

I don't know if Hans realized how big a deal it was for me to ask him that. Can I go home with you? I'd only known him for a few days but in those few days he'd managed to get me out on a date, turn my world upside down, spend the night at my place without ravishing me against my will, stood between me and a starving vampire, ran into a burning building to pull Megan and I out, and made out with me. Twice. Other than the making out part, he really seemed like someone I could trust myself to be around. And even then he'd always stopped with the kissing and caressing and fondling when I started to freak out and told him to.

I was still really nervous, though. I mean, I trusted him — now. But I hadn't been sure he wasn't just playing wingman for Mr. Salvatore before last night. And even though I'd already started telling people he was my boyfriend, did he really want to hang around someone who'd gotten him stabbed, barbequed his mentor, and was far more likely to freak out than put out?

Of course, Hans answered me. Seeing the worry in my eyes, he lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my fingertips. I shivered. The last time he'd done that it had led to nibbles on my palm. Hans smiled at me, perhaps in shared memory. I wouldn't have it any other way, he added gallantly. "I did promise you breakfast in bed this morning, after all."

I sputtered with laughter despite myself. He had, back when he'd been trying to seduce me into a second date. Or at least a second night at my place. He'd even offered to stop and buy more toaster pancakes if I said yes.

Hans' smile grew with my laughter, and some of the worry left his eyes. He bowed his head and kissed my fingertips again. I'm going to find somewhere private to make the rest of these calls while you wait, he said. I won't be long, though. He stood and started to step away, but I clutched his hand in an attack of conscience.

Hans, wait, I said. He did, and I tried to pull myself together. It was a struggle. My New Year's resolution had been to be a better friend. I'd meant to be a better friend to Megan, but there was no reason the resolution shouldn't extend to being a better girlfriend to Hans, too. Plus, could I really live with myself if I took advantage of our relationship and he took me in when he didn't know I'd already maybe cheated on him once?

So, um... this is kind of a non sequitur, I said. But, um... Lesbians. You're a guy so you think that's hot, right?

Hans looked at me like he wasn't sure how to reply. Which I suppose was fair — it certainly seemed like a landmine question on the surface. And I had forced him to admit that our waitress was prettier than me on our date the other night. I frowned. Well, I'd tried. He hadn't actually done it.

Look, I said. I kind of made out with a girl last night. But you're still my boyfriend, except I understand if you don't want to be because I cheated.

Hans' lips twitched slightly. Just enough to be swallowing a chuckle. Abruptly my fear that he'd go into a jealous werewolf rage turned into anger. I'd been genuinely afraid of how he'd react, but still trying to do right by him. How dare he make light of it?!

I scowled. "It happened, I said. I'm not making this up, and I have the pictures to prove it. So you'll just have to deal with it, got it?"

Oh, I believe you, Hans hastily assured me. I wondered, last night, but there was never a good time to ask — and it wasn't really my place to, anyway.

I gaped at him. I wasn't sure if I was shocked, mollified, or didn't believe him. Hans grinned at me and tapped the side of his nose with one finger. Someone was sitting in your lap about an hour before you called me for a ride last night, and she was rather turned on, he explained.

Shock and anger turned to immediate, mortified embarrassment. I'd forgotten how good Hans' nose was. If he hadn't been set on me as Mr. Salvatore's wingman then I was pretty sure he'd only zeroed in on me because of the cloud of pheromones I had to be giving off every time his accent plucked my libido.

Hans knelt down in front of me and took my other hand. Holding them both, he caught my gaze with his. I told you I wasn't looking for anyone else, he reminded me. But I never asked the same of you. His voice was serious, but his eyes were smiling. "Nor will I. We've known each other only very briefly. But I know myself well enough to know that I do not care to split my attention between more than one romantic partner. And I know people well enough to know that not everyone has the same preference as I. So as long as I can keep your attention — and I hope your affection — in those times that I have you to myself, I will be content. And I promise not to begrudge you your other dalliances and relationships, and to keep any jealousy in check."

I stared at him. Other dalliances? Other relationships?! Did he think I was one of those girls that my mom had always warned me not to be?

....Then again, given my track record for the past two days, was I?

Do you understand? Hans asked.

Yeah, I said. I think. But hey! He still hadn't answered my question. Although, why did that matter anymore? Did I really want to know any more about his inner kinks?

Good, Hans said with a smile. He chuckled. Look, supernaturals tend to live long, complicated lives. I had a wild youth of my own, and for some people it's not unusual to feel attraction for multiple people. For that matter, I expect you'll have a fair circle of donors, eventually, and I don't want you to feel like you can't be close to them — emotionally or physically — because of me. He frowned. I'm not even sure that would work, Hans admitted. "I'm not a vampire expert, and normally you'd have your maker to guide you through that sort of thing, but I expect there should be something more than a casual relationship between you and anyone whose blood you share. He gave my hands a squeeze. In any case, don't borrow any worries, and we'll see how things work out."

I swallowed and nodded. Don't borrow worries? I hadn't even thought about finding blood donors yet. I had exactly two friends, and I'd already put both of them on the 'stay the hell away for their own protection' list. I was still stuck on what I was going to do for pajamas if Hans got serious about that breakfast in bed offer! I was not up for coping with borrowed worries!

Alright, Hans said. Good. Now, I'll be back in a little bit — and hopefully I can get a hold of someone who can help you sort out how to go forward. He let go of my hands and stood. I didn't try to stop him this time.

I was too busy running down a mental