Page 31 of The Donor’s Dilemma

“I can understand that, but that club…”

“That’s what it was supposed to be,” he said. “What it once was, but people take things too far. Also,” he ran a hand through his hair, “human-vampire relationships weren’t always… frowned upon. The whole reason we started discouraging them was to stop things like this happening. To stop donors being taken advantage of.”

“Hold up,” Verity said, raising her hands. “You say we like you personally decided to discourage it.”

He looked up as if seeing the stars through the car roof, brows scrunched. “I was part of the decision-making process.”

“To tell us all that vampires and humans can’t be together?” She could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth. She had been trying her damnedest to stay away from him after spending a lifetime being told that such things were wrong, only to learn that the whole thing was propaganda made up by the very guy she was crushing on.

He shrugged and Verity crossed her arms with a huff. “You’re a dick.”

“I was trying to protect you,” he beseeched. “I was trying to protect all humans.”

She was showing her hand, but she didn’t care. If he didn’t know how she felt by now, then he really was an idiot. “Have you had relationships with humans before?” He looked away again and she scoffed. “Fucking hypocrite.”

“They never end well, Verity. Never. I’d never be able to give you children. I couldn’t grow old with you…” he paused. “Hypothetically.”

She glared at him, pouting.

Theo cleared his throat and said, “It wouldn’t end well.”

This wasn’t why she was there, as much as she wanted to understand why he felt the need to discourage human-vampire relationships. Lines were crossing and overlapping, and they were getting off topic.

“The clubs take it too far,” she reminded him.

“Yes,” he said, sounding relieved for the reminder. “Things get out of hand. Standards are lowered and normalised. It can be a dangerous place to be, and just as dangerous to know about.”

“So, I’m in danger because I know too much,” Verity said. Wonderful.

“You’re in danger because everyone knows that you know too much, and because you have a history of making a statement.”

He was right. If Verity still had a platform, this was exactly the kind of thing she’d be telling the world, but she couldn’t. Not anymore.

“And how would I make a statement?” She asked.

“I have no doubt you’d find a way, if you felt so inclined.” He smiled, giving her a knowing look and gods she clung onto it. Maybe she could still be forgiven.

“That… wasn’t all I saw though,” she said.

“No,” he sighed, “it wasn’t, was it?” He looked out of the window, into the darkness beyond, choosing words and collecting thoughts. “What do you know about drinking vampire blood?”

“Nothing really. That it’s bad?”

“Very bad. Worse than bad.”

“Georgie seemed okay.”

“For now, sure but…” His face was grim as he explained. “The truth is… for humans, drinking vampire blood can cure a great deal of ailments, wounds and sicknesses. Blood loss.”

“Blood loss?” Verity asked. She knew where this was going.

“Yes, you see. When we feed… we…” he fidgeted, running his fingers over the stitching on the steering wheel. “We’re always hungry Verity, always.”

“Right now?” She asked and he nodded. She rolled up her sleeve, “Do you want…”

“No,” he put his hand on hers, stopping her. “You can’t, what I take is just enough for your body to replace. Any more would make you sick.”

“But if you need more…”