Ryker leans forward. “I don’t give a shit about what youprefer. I’m done taking all your supposed knowledge at face value.”
Supposed knowledge.
My shoulders tighten. “I never relay information without proper consideration.”
“Then consider fucking spilling it.” Ryker glares at me.
I have never had such a strong urge to punch someone. But I must rise above these base instincts.
“I know, with certainty, that too much vampire blood is not good for humans,” I tell him matter-of-factly, “because I have witnessed those who were given too much. It affects their minds.”
“Because of the…sexual desire?” Ember asks, wincing.
I nod.
“How much is too much?” She shifts, clearly worried for herself.
“Do not worry,” I tell her. “It takes very large quantities to have this effect.”
“Then why fucking mention it?” Ryker asks.
“I very much wish that I had not. It was you who insisted on more details.”
Rolling his eyes, he leans back.
I turn away, as memories flash through my mind and shame rises inside me.
My Makers enjoyed dark carnal pleasures, very dark, and not only with me. One of their favorite pleasures was to feed vampire blood to humans and them use them for sex, enjoying it when the humans would wake in constraints with no memory of what happened while they were in their venom induced slumbers.
Then they would force the humans to watch, as other captives received similar treatment, the villains laughing when it slowly dawned on these poor trapped creatures what had happened to them while they slept—and what would happen again.
Other times, my Makers would cause the captive humans pain, until they’d beg them to ease it. And they did beg, even once they’d deduced that vampire blood was both the catalyst and treatment of their pain, and then the cycle would start up all over again.
Over time, some of these humans built up a resistance to vampire blood, so that it would no longer render them unconscious—or not as quickly—and those were the humans my Makers, my Masters, enjoyed the most.
They’d feed them a vampire’s vein hourly—often mine—and then laugh when the humans would beg to be fucked. Instead of relieving their discomfort, they’d instead inflict pain and force them to watch as others were given the sexual pleasure they craved. Over time, my Makers trained these humans to associate sexual desire with intense pain.
Just as they’d done to me.
Back then, I thought that was how all vampires behaved, part of our nature. I had no other experience. And once I met other vampires and learned differently, I fled.
What my Makers did to those others was sick. Despicable. Unforgivable. And my involvement in their games is the greatest shame of my life. It’s what drove me to finally leave my Makers and take my vow of chastity.
A vow that lasted until I met Ember.
There is no chance I will risk her consuming too much vampire blood. She has already had more than enough.
“Can one of you guys turn me into a vampire?” Ember’s voice pulls me out of the fog of my memories.
“Too dangerous,” I say without thinking.
“No!” Axe shakes his head, his eyes filled with horror.
But Ryker leans back. “Is that what you want, little dove?” He traces his hand down her spine.
“Not a fucking chance,” Axel says. “I won’t let you do that to her. No way.” The big bear sweeps Ember onto his lap, his large arms wrapped around her.
Reaching out of the tight cage of Axel’s arms, she strokes his face. “But what if it’s the only way for us to escape? The only way for me to survive?”
