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Adrian nods. “Basically. When a vampire feeds from a human over a long period, the human’s body gains the same ability to self-heal that a vampire’s has. They stop aging.”

“You’re fucking joking.” But why would the Council want to keep that a secret? I’ve heard a whole bunch this past month about the feeder shortage, about how hard it is for some of the younger vampires to afford to keep their feeders. If feeders—and humans in general—knew they could stop aging, they’d be signing up at the drop of a hat and probably be willing to work for lower wages.

Not me, though. I’m okay with getting older if I’ll have the money Tristan’s paying me when I do.

“No joke. The other thing that long-term feeding does is forge a connection between the vampire and the human. It’s where the ‘myths’ about human servants come from—humans who become extensions of the vampire, like zombies.” He sees my expression and chuckles. “Nah, that’s not real. The connection is, but it’s not a control thing. A human bonded to a vampire gains better sensory abilities and speed. There’s anecdotal evidence of both the vampire and human being able to sense things like whether the other is in pain or sleeping, but nothing that was ever proved.” He swallows. “The downside is that after a certain amount of time, both vampire and human form a symbiotic bond through blood and saliva enzymes. The vampire is unable to gain nutrition by feeding on anyone else, and the human can’t be fed on by any other vampire. It’s incredibly painful if they try, but if they don’t, the overproduction of blood kills them.”

My mind is reeling. “And that’s what Helen wants to do? Only feed on you forever?”

He nods. “I want it too. Or at least, I don’t want her to feed on anyone else. You’re a feeder; you know how intimate it is. I know it wouldn’t be the same as it is between us when she feeds on someone else, but…”

“What’s holding you back?” I’m way out of my depth in this conversation, but Adrian’s trusting me with a lot here, and I’m going to do my best to help no matter what.

Chapter 26

“Bonding’s not legal without special dispensation from the Council. They couldn’t outlaw it completely, because a lot of the old vampires at the time the feeder laws were introduced were bonded to humans and wouldn’t have agreed to help enforce the laws if exceptions weren’t made. So they buried a sub-sub-sub clause in the law where nobody would look for it, stating that vampires and humans who want to bond need to apply for permission.”

“Has that ever happened?”

Adrian shakes his head. “Not that Helen and I are aware of.” He hesitates. “Or Tristan.”

“Tristan knows about this?” So that’s what all the subtext was in his and Helen’s little exchange.

“He’s the regent. For us to have any chance of getting permission, we’d need his support. Plus, he and Helen have been friends for a long time. They were made within a couple of years of each other. He thinks it’s a bad idea.”

Indignation rises hotly in me. “What the fuck would he know? If this is something you want, don’t let his opinion discourage you.” I mentally add “have words with Tristan” to my to-do list.

Adrian smiles faintly. “It’s not just his opinion that worries me. If Helen and I apply to the Council, we’re signing up for a lifetime of having them watch us. No matter what they decide—and let’s face it, the chances of them saying yes are slim—we’ll be on their watchlist. Plus, there’s no way of keeping anything secret. Everyone knows that the best way to let the whole world know something is to send a confidential message to the Council. We’ll lose our privacy, and knowing people the way I do, a lot of them are going to be very uncool. I’m not sure I’m ready for a life in the spotlight—or to be ostracised.”

Fuck. “I hate this for you.”

“Thanks. Me too.” He shakes his head. “Come on, we’ve been out here too long. I’m surprised Tristan and Helen haven’t come looking for us.”

I snort. “They mustn’t have noticed we’re gone.” I grab the door handle and hold it open for him to go in, but a scuffling sound distracts me before I can follow. Frowning—I hope nobody overheard Adrian’s secret—I glance around, but there’s nobody there. A possum, maybe, and they don’t tell secrets.

Relieved, I turn to go inside and nearly run into the vampire standing in the doorway.

“Fuck!” Stumbling, I scramble back a few paces, putting myself out of arm’s reach, and my blood runs cold when the vampire laughs softly.

“Such language. Does Tristan know you have a potty mouth? I can’t believe he allows it.” His words are light, but his eyes are cold. I recognise him as the vampire who stopped Geoffrey from attacking Tristan, but I’m not stupid enough to think that means I’m safe with him. The fact that he’s talking to another vampire’s feeder and blocking the door is a pretty big clue that I’m not.

“I was startled. Please let me through.” I keep my voice steady, but my heartbeat has picked up speed, and there’s no way he missed that.

He grins, flashing fang. “Ah, but this is my chance to talk to a Barale. I’ve heard so many interesting things about your family.” His gaze drops to my neck. “I wonder, do you really taste as good as they say?”

Despite my resolution to stand my ground, I take a step back.

“Don’t run away,” he whispers. Over his shoulder, I see Adrian, eyes wide in his terrified face, and then he’s gone. “Maybe I’ll take a little taste.”

That’s the only warning I have before he’s on me, vampire speed giving me no chance to run or do more than get my forearms up. I barely hold him off, kicking desperately, but I know I have only seconds before his fangs are in my throat. Distantly, I regret that I never asked Tristan to bite me there—at least then I’d know what it should be like. If I survive this, I don’t think I’ll ever want to be bitten there again. His breath is hot on my skin as he bends his head toward me, and I redouble my efforts to shove him away, twisting and kicking⁠—

I stagger off balance as the weight of my attacker disappears. Gasping, I spin toward the sound of growling, expecting to see Tristan and shocked to see Misha instead. He’s holding the other vampire up by the throat, and I semi-hysterically wonder if Tristan learned to do that from his sire.

A second later, Misha adjusts to a two-handed hold and snaps the vampire’s neck. He falls limply to the pavers, and the tall blond’s eyes lock onto me.

I should have run while I had the chance.

“Such a reckless little bird,” Misha says, so low I almost don’t hear him, and then he moves, faster than my eyes can register. I blink, and he and the other vampire are gone.