Maybe he was letting her absorb what he’d said, “Put things into context by thinking of it as steroids blended with heroin. I don’t know why it’s out there, but it is, like an elusive four-leaf clover. It’s out there but most vamps never find someone with this blood.”
She sipped her wine and nodded.
“I believe you have this blood. I’ve heard stories about women with this blood. The way I’m feeling, how much stronger I am after each feeding, things that are happening, like some of my strengths being even more acute, and new ones --- it’s the only explanation.”
“Okaaay?”
“Your blood would be in demand if others knew. High demand,” he arched a brow, looking at her with seriousness.
“So you think someone will try to steal me for my blood?”
“And probably kill you.” He said this very matter-of-factly.
“Why, though? Wouldn’t it be more enterprising to hook me up to an IV, bottle it, and sell it to other vampires?”
Tristan took a deep breath and gave her a disapproving look.
“I’m not trying to make light of it; I just don’t understand…”
“Let’s not give anyone any ideas! I’ll enlighten you.” He moistened his lips and then took her hand in his. “There are stories of those who’ve tasted this blood. One I’ve heard is of a vamp who loses a pet with the enchanted blood because she gets stolen and drained dry by another vampire who wants it. The grieving vamp loses it, hunts down the other vamp, they battle to the death. Both die. She kills herself afterwards.”
Kyla shifted uncomfortably. Tristan continued, “Another story tells of a vampire killing an enchanted blooded woman he’d been keeping as a pet by accident, draining her dry out of greed, and then he goes on a rampage and kills innocents because he’s looking for a duplicate of that blood. It was years ago but is still discussed in the media here as a cold case, Toronto Mangler? I’m sure you’ve heard of the case. It’s said to make vampires who have tasted it but who can’t have it maniacal, power hungry, ruthless.”
Kyla’s blood ran cold, knowing exactly what he was talking about. That case was mentioned frequently on the news despite it being from over 20 years ago.
“No one knows who this vampire is. Few vamps even know much about nectar. If the Toronto Mangler is still here and hears rumours of you…” He didn’t finish that sentence. He squeezed her hand and took a sip of wine, “I never gave it much thought.” he said, “Most vamps I know don’t even talk about it. It’s sort of taboo because if anyone is keeping a pet secretly with the nectar they’d be worried about their secret getting out. Anyway, the few stories I’ve heard were far removed from me. It was always a friend of a friend kind of thing and never something I had experience with directly. Until now. I want to do more research but am trying to find a way without arousing suspicion.”
They were both silent for a moment as Kyla processed all he was telling her, then he asked, “You’ve heard of blood doping?”
“Like Lance Armstrong?”
“Right. So you know it’s something athletes use to gain a competitive edge. The average blood gives a vampire a similar edge. And we can survive without it for a while but eventually start to crave it and get sick and weak if we go too long without it. Enchanted blood is said to be like that but multiplied. Enchanted blood gives a vampire an enormous edge, picture adding a spoonful of baking soda to a glass of vinegar. And every time he drinks it, he gets stronger. Then he starts to crave more. My blood was sent away with yours for testing. It’s all still being analyzed but since drinking from you I’m different. I feel stronger every time I feed. Tried to drink ordinary blood while I was angry with you. It was like drinking dirty water. Did nothing for me.”
“Whose blood?” She knew it was an odd and possessive question as soon as it came out of her mouth.
He looked at her and laughed, hard. She narrowed her eyes at him.
He chuckled, “Just some stored blood, my green-eyed girl.”
Kyla felt silly. She covered her eyes out of embarrassment. He took a hand away and squeezed it, eyes sparkling, lips turned up into a big smile. She flushed and shook her head. Their eyes locked for a moment and then she gave him a small smile and finished the rest of what was in her wine glass, shaking her head.
He refilled their wine glasses, beaming, so obviously pleased that she was being possessive. She felt like she was getting a bit tipsy but she started to fret about his whole “junkie” comment so could use some liquid courage. Would Tristan lose control? That was what happened after the bath the day after they’d met, when she wouldn’t go along with his wishes?