Oliver's Hunger
Page 10

 Tina Folsom

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Had she really meant it? She must have been scared out of her wits to offer a stranger sex, just so he’d save her. And by God, he would have taken it, but now? He shook his head. He couldn’t take the offer now. It would be unethical.
Unethical? the little devil sitting on his shoulder asked. What’s unethical about having sex with a hot chick?
And she was hot. Long, black hair, a slender, delicate figure, small, but well-formed boobs, and then those eyes: tilted upwards, yet large, their irises dark as night, yet brilliant in their reflection. She was Chinese, he guessed, but he’d barely heard an accent when she’d spoken, so she was probably a second generation immigrant and belonged to the large Chinese community of San Francisco. And she was more beautiful than any other woman he’d ever encountered. When she’d made her offer of sex, his heart had stopped for a moment, because he couldn’t believe his luck. This beautiful girl was willing to have sex with him?
Oliver gritted his teeth. Everything was wrong about taking advantage of a frightened woman, even though his cock didn’t seem to care about that fact. No, that particular appendage was more than willing to hold her to her promise as soon as she awoke.
“Ah, crap,” he hissed under his breath.
For once, he should have listened to Blake and stayed at home and drunk the bottled blood in the pantry instead. Then there would be two fewer things he had to worry about right now: one, he wouldn’t feel so damn guilty about having fed from an innocent, and two, he wouldn’t have an unconscious young woman in the back of his van, whose brains he wanted to fuck out as soon as she came to.
Oliver turned onto his street and glanced at the mansion he called home. Only the lights over the entrance were illuminated, otherwise the house was dark. It appeared that Blake had gone out, since it was too early for him to be in bed already. Ever since Blake had joined them after finding out that Quinn and Rose were his fourth great-grandparents, he kept more or less the same hours the vampires kept. He slept until early afternoon and stayed up into the early hours of the morning. Soon, he’d most likely have adjusted completely and remain awake all night.
Oliver operated the garage door opener and drove inside, parking the car in its usual spot next to the stairs that led up into the house. When he switched off the engine, quiet suddenly descended around him. He opened the car door and stepped out. No sound came from upstairs. Just as well. He didn’t want to have to explain to Blake what had happened, when he didn’t even know himself what he’d gotten into. With some luck, everything would be back to normal by the time Blake returned, and his nosy half-brother wouldn’t be the wiser.
Walking to the van’s sliding door, he opened it and looked at his passenger. She still lay there without moving. He bent down to her, verifying that she was breathing—she was—then he scooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs.
With his elbow he switched on the lights in the hallway, then headed for the living room, where he did the same. Gently he laid her onto the large sectional, snatching the woolen blanket that lay over the armrest, and covered her with it.
Then he stood there, looking down at her. When he’d been human, he’d taken care of injured colleagues often enough, but his help had mostly constituted of feeding them his blood so their vampire bodies could heal. While he knew that vampire blood too had healing properties, he was unsure what to do right now. Not knowing what the woman suffered from, he didn’t want to take such drastic steps as feeding her his blood. What if she woke while he did so? It would only make things worse.
As he shoved a shaking hand through his hair, he noticed the girl move. Instantly he bent down to her and realized that she was shaking. It was clear that she had the chills.
“Fuck!” he cursed.
He could only imagine that the other vampire had taken too much blood and weakened her. When another chill went through her body, Oliver lowered himself onto the couch, took her into his arms and held her close to him, but her shivers didn’t cease.
He needed help. Professional help.
Quickly he pulled out his cell phone and dialed.
When the call connected, he made his request. “Maya, you need to come to the house. I need a doctor.”
“Oliver?” she asked in surprise. “Are you hurt?”
“Not I. A human. Come quickly.”
Cain glanced back at Blake who stood next to Cain’s car. He’d been just about to leave for his patrol when the human had shown up, asking for help. “I have no idea where he is,” Cain said to his human colleague.
Blake frowned. “Damn it, damn it, damn it!” Then he shoved a shaky hand through his thick dark hair. “What now?”