Page 21 of Crimson Soul
I shrugged. Dean did have a compulsive control issue. Corbin had actually been helping him with that issue in therapy...not as a direct client, but as a friend. I wasn’t supposed to know that, but Corbin told me everything he wasn’t supposed to.
“I guess.”
“Have you had any iced coffee?”
My mouth watered at the thought, and I groaned. “No. None. They haven’t fed me at all…”
Oh, fuck.
How was I supposed to feed? The only attainable blood source for me was Gabriel, and that wasn’t going to happen. I could feed off a little of Corbin’s essence, but my guilt would be too strong for that.
My stomach clenched as I realized just how hungry I was, and my fangs dropped.
Corbin’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I growled, shifting toward the bed before kneeling down beside it. My vision pulsed red, the need for blood now overwhelming my senses.
“If you need to feed, I’ll offer my blood,” Gabriel said with a sweetness to his voice like the thought excited him.
“I’m not feeding off you!” I snapped my head back to glare at him, but he smirked.
“We’ll see about that.” He snapped his fingers, and that light filled the room again like a camera’s flash on crack.
What the fuck does he mean by that?
My stomach rolled with nausea, crashing into the monstrous part of me that would take delight in angel blood.
Angel blood was one thing, but drinking from Gabriel, from the tap, was one line I would never cross.
Bile crept up my throat as my stomach constricted from hunger pains. I caught a faint whiff of cucumber and coconut as I collapsed to the floor in a defeated heap.
I had to get the fuck out of here.
