Page 90 of She Haunts Me Still

Saskia quiets her with a gentle touch on her cheek. “I don’t want you to go.” She scans Mallory’s face, taking in her pale skin, the sweat dampening her bangs. “Maybe…I can help.”

Mallory freezes at the implication. At the possibility that Saskia might actually be offering her blood. “No, Saskia.”

Saskia gestures. “I mean, I’m already bleeding.”

Mallory shakes her head decidedly. “I can’t—Iwon’tdo that to you.”

“Mal. You just saved me.” Saskia’s eyes burn into hers. “Let me do the same.”

A heavy pause gathers between them. Mallory’s thoughts race, debating what it means to give into this malevolent hunger, of where it will take her. Of what else she could be capable of. Somewhere, she thinks of her mother, pushing away a man who loved her out of fear of hurting him. Maybe she had it right all along.

But then Saskia whispers her name again. “Mal,” she says. “Take what you need.”

Desire floods her, the back of her throat alive with electric thirst that splits every nerve, at war with the hypocrisy of what she’s about to do. She doesn’t have a choice. Perhaps she never did.

PerhapsEzranever did.

She bends her head to Saskia’s chest.

And runs her tongue along one of the shallow wounds.

The walls seem to shatter around her, claiming every thought. Saskia tastes like summer, like rainfall, like a place that’s familiar and simultaneously new. Honey, sugar, lavender. Mallory swallows. Leans in for more. It’s so easy to forget she’s drinking blood, easy to forget she’s doing something obscene. It feels natural. Medicinal. Healing.

Mallory licks another bead of blood, this one directly between Saskia’s breasts, drawing a sharp breath from her. She raises her gaze. “Am I hurting you?”

Saskia shakes her head, cheeks flushed. “Not even close.”

Emboldened, Mallory returns her mouth to Saskia’s soft skin. She gently laps from Saskia’s sternum to the ribbon trim of her bra, fleetingly registering the curve of cleavage in her path.

Finding the deepest gash on Saskia’s left breast, Mallory arranges her mouth over it and sucks gently, unable to halt both the satisfied groan and the awareness that surely she’ll be chasing this wild, reckless high for the rest of her life. Saskia holds Mallory’s hair the whole time, coaxing.Take what you need.

When Mallory finally pulls back, her stomach feels bright and warm. Full. Like strength has been replenished to her body, like it’s hers once again. She looks at Saskia, whose lashes are lowered, breath labored. And she’s staring down at Mallory as though she just gave her something, too.

“Thank you,” Mallory manages to say.

Saskia blinks, as if debating how to respond. “Do you…feel better?”

Mallory nods. A sobering embarrassment creeps back in. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she confesses. “I’m sorry—”

“No more apologies, Nancy Drew.” Saskia’s eyes darken. She smiles almost mischievously. “I think you missed a spot.”

Mallory’s response evaporates as Saskia reaches out to brush her lower lip. And then, wordlessly, she smears the drops of red on her own mouth. Slowly. Like she’s applying lip gloss, waiting for Mallory to kiss it off.

For a moment, Mallory can only stare. Both at Saskia’s undone appearance and the way she’s seen Mallory on the verge of falling apart and hasn’t run away.

Without giving herself time to think, Mallory leans in and presses her lips to Saskia’s.

Like she has no fear left inside her at all.

A new, mutual hunger blossoms between them at the contact. Mallory digs her hands into Saskia’s hair, savoringher saccharine, floral taste while Saskia fists Mallory’s skirt, drawing her closer. They part reddened lips at once, sharing a gasp at the first swirl of their tongues.

“Finally,” Saskia groans. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to kiss you for days.”

Heat pools low in Mallory’s stomach. “Me, too.” Her reply spills into another kiss. “I just…”

She trails off, uncertain how to tell Saskia that she’s spent a long time circling this secret part of herself—one she doesn’t want to keep hidden anymore. She wants to drench herself in pastels and glitter, paint herself on the outside to match who she’s been inside all along.

But she doesn’t have to say anything, because Saskia just seems to know. She pulls back, searching her gaze.