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Dalia’s gaze flashes toward me, a slight widening of her eyes. With a reverence and respect that wasn’t there moments before, she quietly responds, “I only want to save my grandson.”
“I’m counting on it,” Mildred replies and then briskly returns to the grimoire on the table, flipping it back to the original page that explains a witch’s magic. “Now, tell me how we do it.”
As the vampire queen’s personal physician, it appears that Nolan’s grandmother is accustomed to shaking off demonstrations of power, because her expression returns to cold professionalism. “The first steps are to obviously attempt to raise Nolan’s levels.” She looks at Nolan. “How often are you feeding from Callie?”
“Once a day, usually in the evenings,” I answer for him, because I know how much it bothers him to talk about it. There have been too many years of shame tied to his survival. It makes me want to shield his body with mine and protect him from judgmental gazes, even though I see none in either of our grandmothers’ eyes.
Dalia nods, her gaze focused on the bruise on my neck. “I can assume protocol around feeding hasn’t been addressed by your parents.”
Nolan sits up tall, his posture stiff, and I let my hands drop to my lap. “They didn’t know I wasn’t feeding from bagged blood.”
His grandmother’s nose wrinkles over the sheer concept of feeding from a bag. “There’s no time like the present, I suppose.” She once again goes digging into her medical bag. “It’s against protocol for someone your age to be feeding directly from the vein. As I’m sure you’re aware, the side effects are extremely potent, and you are not trained to manage them.”
He opens his mouth, and I quickly cover it with my hand, not trusting that whatever will come out will allow me to look my nan in the eye ever again. A blush burns my cheeks just thinking about how skilled he is at “managing” the side effects of the bite. He laughs and licks my hand. I squeal and rub the offending saliva on his sweater.
“Children, it’s time to be serious,” his grandmother warns, pulling out what looks like medical paraphernalia for taking larger blood samples and a plastic wrapped cup with a lid. “My first recommendation is to double your feeding schedule, and I’m sure your paramour might appreciate having control of her senses.”
“Doesn’t the magic in blood lose its potency once it’s extracted from the donor?” Mildred questions, frowning at the equipment. “Isn’t that one of the reasons Nolan can’t drink bagged blood?”
“It could be days or weeks since bagged blood was extracted, and it’s from humans,” she explains, removing her first set of gloves. “I’m merely transferring her blood from the vein to this cup. The loss of potency will be minimal before Nolan consumes it.”
“So that’s how you do it!” I exclaim, happy to obliterate the thoughts of Martin and Maria in some type of orgy with any of Nolan’s extended family.
Dalia’s thin lips turn up at the corners. “Yes. Feeding from the vein is reserved for certain festivals and special occasions when a vampire reaches age of majority.”
“And when is that?” I ask, always curious to learn more about the rest of the supernatural world.
“Forty-five,” she answers, and then she examines the room as if she’s searching for something.
Nolan chokes. “I’m not considered an adult in vampire society until I’m forty-five?”
“That’s when you’ve fully matured, yes. Didn’t your parents teach you anything about your heritage?” Dalia asks with exasperation, and she then turns to Mildred. “I think this might be best performed back inside. Perhaps at the kitchen table where they both can sit comfortably?”
“Perhaps you should first ask Callie if she wants to offer her blood at this time,” my nan counters, leveling her with a hard look. “My granddaughter isn’t a thrall under your control.”
“As everyone keeps reminding me,” Dalia mutters.
“My parents thought it was better that I learn about the society I lived in, not the one I was banished from,” Nolan states, his chin jutting up in defiance. I can only imagine how hard this is for him. He’s been desperate his entire life for information about his heritage, and now that the answers stand before him, they are barbed with contempt for those who love him unconditionally.
“I’m not getting into this again,” his grandmother warns, placing the items back into her medical bag. She turns her unnerving gaze on me. “My grandson needs more blood if he is to survive. Your blood is all that he can seem to consume. Are you willing to provide that blood?”
“Yes,” I answer, standing up from Nolan’s lap. “I want to help.”
“Wonderful.” She snaps the bag closed. “Now, can we move this to the kitchen table?”
∞∞∞
Mildred closes the front door and leans against it, releasing an exaggerated sigh. “Finally, she’s gone. I swear I’m more motivated than ever to heal Nolan if it means sending that woman back to Prima as soon as possible.”
“At least she came to help,” I reply, closing my eyes to focus on healing my wounds. “I’ll take a little abrasiveness if it means saving his life.”
“Little,” she scoffs and walks into the kitchen. I hear the sounds of cupboards opening and closing, followed by running water. “What tea would you like?”
“That orange black tea we just got sounds good,” I answer, grabbing my red hoodie from the back of my chair and pulling it on.
I’m not really cold, but this morning has left me feeling raw and exposed. Rubbing the frayed edges of the cuffs between my fingers, I try to center myself. Dalia was allowed to take a peek at my power, watching the instant transformation of Nolan’s whole body as he sucked down my blood. Color instantly returned to his skin, the exhaustion fled his eyes, and he was more alert. Short of being too skinny, he appeared to be the picture of health. Unfortunately, it was also short lived. Whatever the curse was doing to him, it was stronger than ever. My heart broke as I witnessed the resigned look in his eyes.
Stubbornness took over his grandmother as she took in the whole process, like his illness was an affront to her abilities as a physician and she wouldn’t stand for it. I could appreciate the feeling. With all the power of the goddess at my fingertips, I was still helpless. I simply didn’t know enough to fix him, and I was afraid if I gave my magic free rein to save him, it could make it worse instead of better. My magic saved me from dying by freezing my body in time, not allowing me to age or mature since I was in my first car accident at fourteen. It was only after the binding spell on my magic broke that I was able to grow into the body I have now, and it hurt like hell too. Doing the same thing to Nolan, crystalizing him in this time while his body was ravaged, would be far crueler.
