Blood Revealed (8 page)

He remembered Sebastian and Winter’s warnings and watched as Sauvage leaned in toward his throat. Sometimes, the blood fever wouldn’t let go easily. A vampire could sink back into the mindless driving haze, to feed endlessly until their victim was quite drained.

Sauvage’s embarrassment was enough to keep his consciousness here in the real world and he worked his mouth over the wound, using his vampire essence to heal it. His big hands were gentle, using minimal strength to turn Dominic to the angle he needed to work on the wound.

The pain receded, until it was gone.

Dominic moved his shoulder experimentally. It felt perfectly normal.

Patrick Sauvage had moved away from him, over to the window, where he was staring out at the hot September day, silhouetted by the bright sunlight beaming through the big window. There was a tightness about the man’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Dominic told him. He deliberately didn’t dip into his mind. Instead, he waited for the words to bubble up as surface thoughts as Patrick Sauvage spoke them, so he could hear them almost as normally as a human did. “Garrett will be here very soon. Their house is only a few kilometers away.”

The tension didn’t lessen. Instead, it seemed to tighten into a hard fist. “Did it hurt very much?” Sauvage asked. He didn’t look at him.

“Not once you dealt with it.”

“I mean…during….” The
awkwardness
in the man’s words and thoughts was thick.

“No, not then, either.”

It was a reminder of the swollen ache he had felt. The need to slake his appetite, to pin down someone and just ram himself home, over and over, until he came…it had sat in his mind like a siren song, beckoning him, making him throb. Every inch of him had pulsed.

Even just remembering the powerful arousal was goading him all over again. His cock stirred and gave out a single throb. Dominic cleared his throat.

Sauvage still hadn’t looked around. “Was there anything else, Dominic?” he asked.

Beneath the words was a clear thought. No, not a thought. An emotion. A sensation.

Wanting.

Desire.

A response to Dominic’s need.

Dominic licked his lips. The man…the vampire…had read his physical reaction and was responding to it.

Positively.

Patrick Sauvage reached up to grip the window frame. His fingers gripped the white painted wood. “You should go.” It wasn’t the alarming,
get-the-fuck-out-now
voice he had used before the blood lust had taken him. It was a warning, just the same. “What you’re feeling…it’s just a trick, a way to keep you sane after a feeding.”

Dominic nodded, then realized the man wasn’t looking at him and wouldn’t see it. “I’ve been living with vampires for a year. I know what I’m feeling is normal. Your reaction…isn’t.”

“Which is why you should go.”

That wasn’t what his under thoughts were saying. Patrick wanted him to stay. He wanted to explore this exploding need, to see where it went.

Dominic realized his heart was just about bursting out of his chest. He was weak because of the loss of blood and this was making it strain like an overtaxed steam engine. He didn’t consciously make the decision. Yet he found himself sinking onto the buttery soft leather sofa. “I’d better eat something first,” he whispered.

Finally, Patrick Sauvage turned and actually looked at him. There was disgust in his eyes. “I should have thought of that,” he said softly and Dominic realized the disgust was self-directed. “Come back to the kitchen. I’ll get you a sandwich. And coffee.” He strode for the doorway that led to the back of the house where the big French countrified kitchen was. He didn’t look back. He expected Dominic to follow him as ordered.

Dominic hauled himself to his feet. Now the weakness was really making itself felt, or he would have told Patrick bloody Sauvage to take his sandwich and shove it. Instead, he followed him into the kitchen, some of his steps more wobbly than he liked. Sauvage was already digging through the refrigerator and bread was sitting on the counter.

Dominic pulled out a chair from around the big circular wooden table and fell into it. He propped himself up with an elbow on the table and watched the tall man make a sandwich that a gourmet lunch shop would have been proud of. Prosciutto, so thin he could see Patrick’s fingers through it. Two different types of cheese, one just as thinly sliced as the meat, the other very white and crumbly, dark green pesto, avocado and olives.

The bread was crusty and made the hollow sound that spoke of well-risen dough as Patrick cut off thick slices.

Dominic’s mouth watered long before Patrick put the plate in front of him and he didn’t hesitate to bite into it as Patrick went back behind the counter and made coffee. Espresso, of course. No filters or French press. The smell of sharp, dark coffee flooded the room.

The sandwich was the best Dominic had ever tasted. Once the worst of his sudden hunger subsided, he slowed down his eating and savored, instead.

Patrick was back to staring out the window again.

“No other vampire I know is as embarrassed about having to feed as you seem to be,” Dominic said. “Is that because it’s still new for you?”

Patrick looked at him sharply, startled. The same stiff awkwardness colored his thoughts. This time, Dominic listened closely. He frowned and swallowed the bite of sandwich. “What has feeding got to do with binge drinking?”

“You’re reading my private thoughts?” He sounded highly pissed.

“They’re not so private,” Dominic said, with a shrug. “You talk and I have to listen to hear what you say, yet what you’re thinking drowns out what you’re saying. And you didn’t actually
say
anything, anyway.”

“I was
going
to say that it’s none of your business.”

“Because you’re a big important film star who has to protect his privacy,” Dominic added. That thought had been at the very top of Patrick’s thoughts, unshaped by words. The indignation had been very clear.

Patrick’s mouth opened. So did his eyes.

“Except you’re not that important anymore, are you?” Dominic said. “No one is taking your calls.”

The hurt seemed to leap out of the man’s chest. Dominic could feel it, as it swamped everything else in his mind. It wasn’t just hurt, either. There was a deep fear there, tied up with last night’s exposure. Patrick Sauvage was feeling threatened, as though his personal universe was imploding.

“Hey, the whole world is doing cartwheels right now. It’s not just you,” Dominic replied.

Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “That…is very disconcerting,” he said slowly.

“What is?”

“I didn’t even know that was what I was thinking, until you
answered
me, as if I had said it aloud.”

“I told you. Your thoughts are very clear. Louder than what you say.”

“Other people don’t…think as loudly?” The corner of his mouth quirked up, like he felt as silly saying it as it sounded.

“No.”

Oh
. The single word, the surprise, was clear as a shout.

“Perhaps it’s because you fed from me. They say feeding creates a connection for a while.” Then Dominic remembered how he had been able to tap into Patrick’s thoughts more easily than anyone else at last night’s press conference. There had been no temporary bond then.

“Maybe.” Patrick wasn’t any more sold on that possibility than Dominic was. He dumped one of the dinky little European coffee cups and saucers in front of Dominic, the black sludgy espresso slopping a bit. It smelled divine, this close up.

The man’s surface emotion hadn’t subsided. Patrick was still trying to hold onto an old life that had shattered three days ago when he had told the world what he really was. He was only now starting to realize exactly what he had done to himself.

“If it helps,” Dominic said, picking up the little cup, “you’re not the only one who is getting kicked in the ass this morning. The President of the United States fired two cabinet members and three other Congressmen have resigned. There’s a French diplomat packing up his bags and the head of Mossad was nearly lynched last night in Israel…and the mob was made up of Palestinians
and
Jews.”

Patrick frowned. “All of them are Libertatus?”

“That’s where all the power-holders gravitated. League members…what’s left of them…they stayed on the fringes of human society. Best place for them, too.” The coffee was delicious, just like the sandwich. Dominic gave a gusty sigh and put the cup down. “Not that any of those old divisions really matter anymore.”

“No, I suppose not,” Patrick said dryly. He wiped crumbs off the counter with a sweep of his hand and tossed them into the sink.

“And yet you’re still feeling coy about feeding,” Dominic said.

Patrick glared. “You’re doing it again.”

“Stop thinking so loud, then. Why is feeding like drinking for you?”

Patrick took a deep breath. Then another.

Dominic nodded. “You feel out of control with both.”

“Jesus Christ on a pony….” Patrick muttered.

Dominic grinned. “Maybe you should think of this as a confessor and penitent relationship. Except you got to eat
before
you confessed. Now I’m bound by it and can’t tell a single other soul what you’ve told me.”

Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not Catholic.”

“I am. I was.” Dominic shrugged. “It’s a brave new world now, anyway. You might feel more relaxed about it if you dealt with the world as your real self. You’ve been acting a long time. Even after the cameras stopped rolling. Perhaps it’s time to stop.”

Astonishment warred with acute discomfort. And this time, Dominic could see it in Patrick’s eyes. He was not bothering to hide his reactions anymore. “Are you done punishing me for feeding from you, yet?”

“Is that what you think I’m doing?”

“Isn’t it?”

Dominic frowned, trying to sort out his own feelings. “Maybe. A little. Except I can hear that you’re all mixed up about a lot of shit that every other vampire doesn’t give a damn about because you were human a nanosecond ago, relatively speaking.”

“I don’t need counseling. I’ve got enough of them already.”

“Yeah, Roman can be a pedantic son of a bitch, can’t he?”

Patrick’s grin came from nowhere, as if it caught even him by surprise. “Wasn’t he an office clerk, in old Constantinople?”

“It shows, doesn’t it?” Dominic pushed the plate away, then pulled it back and cleaned up some of the crumbs, picking them up with a damp fingertip. “Garrett can be OCD about finance, too. They make a good pair.”

The thought/feeling/emotion came out of nowhere. Dominic wasn’t even aware he was still listening in on Patrick’s thoughts, so it came as a surprise to him. The image/memory of the piano. Glistening black varnish. The coolness of the ivory keys under Patrick’s (
his
) fingers. The sweet purity of the notes as they hung on the air in the empty room. He wasn’t a master at the music, yet the piano made up the difference, making any fumbling music he created sound purer and better….

An invisible hand grabbed at Dominic’s throat, almost cutting off his breath. He froze, his gaze on the empty plate, as his heart seemed to leap in a suicidal dash against the wall of his chest. It hurt.

And he still couldn’t breathe.

Patrick pulled out the chair next to his and sat down on it sideways, so that he was looking directly at Dominic.

Dominic lifted his head to look at him. It felt as if his bones and muscles moved creakily, straining against the shock.

Patrick gave him a small smile. “I don’t think I’m the only one who needs to stop pretending I’m someone I’m not.”

Dominic swallowed. “You son of a bitch….” The words tore at the back of his throat and he could feel the prick of tears in reaction to the pain and the panic that was locking his body down tight. Patrick had turned his ability to hear thoughts back on him in a way no one else had ever thought to try.

Serves you right
, a small voice whispered. The voice was his.

“Who
are
you, really?” Patrick asked softly.

The fear rose up, almost swallowing him. He shook his head. He couldn’t speak. He just couldn’t.

The back door handle rattled and the door opened, bringing in a flood of harsh sunlight and baking heat.

“Hey,” Roman said. “I expected to find Dominic passed out on the floor and you curled up in a corner.”

Patrick got to his feet. “I got some food into him. He was swaying, afterward.” Patrick’s big frame hid Dominic from Roman’s gaze and it might have been a coincidence, except that he was suddenly unsure about anything Patrick might do. While Patrick kept him out of sight, Dominic fought off the looming panic attack, forcing himself to breathe.

“A feed for a feed. Seems fair.” Roman sniffed. “And coffee, too. Well done.”

Dominic could feel Patrick’s minor irritation and the mental reminder to himself that Roman meant well, even if it did come off sounding condescending. Feeling the flow of Patrick’s crystal clear thoughts helped Dominic to pull himself together. Deliberately, he dipped into Roman’s mind and felt the same muddy incoherency he got from most vampires and
all
humans, unless he really worked at piercing the chaos.

Situation normal.

That helped him sit up and then push himself to his feet and step around Patrick. “He did better than you know,” he told Roman, who was swinging his car keys around one finger as he sized up the situation.

“No, Dominic,” Patrick said softly.

Roman’s eyes narrowed.

An electronic warble saved Dominic from having to come up with something to deflect Roman’s interest. Roman dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Sorry, I have alerts set for any hot news.” He glanced at the screen then at Patrick. “TV?”

“I don’t have one.” Patrick shrugged.

“Here.” Dominic pulled out his own cell phone and pulled up the TV app. “Channel?”

“CNN.”

He put the phone on the corner of the counter where they could all gather around it and see the small screen.

Simone’s and Jake’s text messages arrived almost simultaneously, exhorting Blythe to watch CNN
now.
She was already watching. Everyone was staring at the screen mounted in the corner of the lunchroom already, including her, even though she had been starving hungry five minutes before.