Who?
And he answered, her imaginary speaker. You know who I am, Leslie. You might not like the answer just yet, but you know me, love.
Beside her, she heard the bandage package rip, felt pressure as the pad was put over her tattoo.
“Just rest for a few minutes, Leslie,” Rabbit murmured as he helped her stand, directed her onto the chair again, reclined now like a bed. “I’ll be right back.”
Listen to Bunny-boy. I need to wake up, and you don’t want to be awake for it. Trust me, love. I want to keep you safe.
“Listen to who?”
“You’re strong, Leslie. Just remember that. You’re stronger than you think,” Rabbit said as he draped a blanket over her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just rest.”
She didn’t have much of a choice: she was suddenly more exhausted than she’d ever been. “Just a few minutes. Going out dancing, then.”
CHAPTER 23
Irial woke with a scream half formed on his lips. He was unbound but still on Rabbit’s chair. Red welts crossed his arms and legs. A bruise stretched across his arm where the tube had been. He tried to sit up, sending paroxysms of pain through his whole body.
Ani sealed her lips to his, swallowing his scream—and the ones that followed.
When she pulled back—lips blood red, pupils dilated, cheeks flushed—he gaped at her. Halflings didn’t, couldn’t, feed on faeries. Mortal blood overcame most of their fey traits. The traits that remained had never included this one.
More troubles.
“How?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“Ani, you can’t stay here if you need to—”
“Feed?” she prompted with a smile that was all Gabriel, wicked and predatory.
“Yes, feed, like your father. No wonder Rabbit’s had so much trouble with you.” Irial concentrated on keeping his focus, on not trying to go check on Leslie, on dealing with Ani first. Leslie’s not ready to talk to me. Not here. Not when I’m so weak.
“Your pain’s like a big sundae. Didja know that?” Ani licked her lips. “Cherry. With extra sugar.”
“What about Tish?” He pulled on the shirt Ani had given him. Business first. Then Leslie. Somehow she didn’t seem like business anymore.
“Nope. Just me.” Ani leaned closer. “Can I have another taste?”
She bit his chin, drawing blood with her sharp canines.
He sighed and pushed her away. No violence in disciplining Gabriel’s daughter.
“I can feed off mortals without the ink exchange. No exchange. Just me.” She sighed dreamily. “If they’re rolling, it’s like drinking rainbows. Rainbows. Big, sugary rainbows.”
“Mortals?”
She swayed into him. “If I find a strong one, it’s okay. It’s only when I pick the wrong ones that they get all stupid. Not so different than what you’re doing, is it?” She plopped down beside him. “She’s fine, you know. Leslie. Resting and all that.”
“Rabbit!” he yelled. Then he sent a mental message out to Gabriel. They’d need to take Ani with them for a while.
“What’s she done?” Rabbit leaned in the doorway.
“Fed.”
He nodded once. “I wondered if that’s why—”