Good.
That's all I needed.
But I play along. "Fine. I'll just wait for him to wake up. Unless of course there's a problem with that too." I fold my arms against my chest and jut my chin out in defiance.
Kai snorts behind me as Henrich's eyes widen. "You are still willing to give Havok your vein?"
"Yes." I'm willing to give him everything, all of me, and even though that should scare me, it doesn't. It feels right.
"So you've just accepted that he is vampire and will do what it takes to help him because..."
I shrug. "Because it doesn't change who he is and I care about him. I want to help him."
"Remarkable."
I frown but don't ask what that's supposed to mean.
Nope. I just pace the floor as Henrich removes about ten nasty looking barbs from Havok's chest and wait for the second he leaves me alone with him.
Kai and Henrich move Havok to the bed and while they run down the list of things he'll need to go back to the main house to get, I start cleaning the table.
"He will need to smell it,” Andrej whispers as he removes the straps that kept Havok from moving each time he winced in pain.
I nod. "So do I just cut my finger or something?"
"Not enough,” he grunts, then leans in front of me and meets my eyes. "Needs to be more. Heavy pulse."
I peek at Kai and Henrich, still lost in their conversation. "Here?" I hold out my wrist.
He shakes his head then tilts it back slightly.
So I point to my neck where my pulse is going haywire.
For some reason the idea of Havok taking the vein at my throat is so intimate, so erotic that I am now ridiculously turned on at the worst possible time.
But Andrej nods once and says, "He will need quite a bit but it will not hurt you, will not drain you. The venom in his fangs has restorative qualities. You will feel no negative effects, save for the initial bite."
I'm not really worried about that and my hoo-ha sure likes the idea.
I must be more fucked up than I thought.
Whatever.
I want to help Havok, and I want him to get better.
And the minute he is, that vampire and I have a lot of shit to discuss starting with why the fuck he's now starring in my dreams and nightmares in vivid color.
“Ok," I whisper a little too breathily. "But I'm going to need to get him alone. And I'll need—"
Andrej pulls a small dagger from his pocket and slides it across the table but it's more like he stabbed it into the side of my skull.
That's the same dagger from my dream. I'd know it anywhere.
The dragon's foreleg, the claws closed around the base of the blade, the intricate wording on the gold plated iron, the onyx stone on the handle with some sort of crest on it.
It's the exact same.
"Little one?"
