Quinn's Undying Rose Page 35

She ignored the jab and instead focused on Oliver. She wondered why Quinn had turned him, but she would rather bite her tongue than ask.

“Nice to meet you, Oliver.”

He nodded and smiled, and her gaze slipped to his chin where the blood still clung to his skin. It reminded her of what she’d wanted to ask him earlier.

She pointed to the refrigerator. “The bottles. What are they?”

Oliver’s forehead furrowed. “Bottles of blood of course. Why do you ask?”

“I mean, how do you get them? Do you fill them up yourself?” The sheer volume suggested otherwise.

“Are you telling me, you don’t know about bottled blood?” Quinn asked, making her look at him. He stared at her as if she’d just crawled out from living under a rock for the last two hundred years.

Just like Oliver, he wore jeans. Spots of his T-shirt seemed wet as if he’d pulled it over his head without properly drying off after a shower.

“I . . . well, where do you get it from?”

“We order it through some connections with have at the blood bank. My boss set up a medical supply company years ago, and that’s how the blood gets funneled to us,” Quinn explained.

“You mean you don’t feed directly from humans?”

She noticed how his look suddenly strayed to her neck, making her skin tingle.

“Only occasionally when there’s need.”

“That’s right,” Oliver added. “Most of them have fed from me before. You know, during emergencies. But otherwise they’re all on bottled blood, most of the Scanguards guys, I mean.”

Rose’s chin dropped. Why would they have fed off another vampire? That made no sense whatsoever. “But you’re a vampire too.”

Oliver grinned, showing little dimples in his cheeks. “I was human until a few days ago.”

Quinn ruffled his hair. “He’s practically a baby.”

“Am not!”

When Quinn’s laughter echoed through the kitchen, Rose felt a stab in her heart. God, how she’d missed his laughter, his smiles, the twinkle in his eyes. The way he looked at Oliver now, with mischief and affection, was how she remembered him. He looked so young again, so innocent—so human.

“So you feed from bottles,” she repeated. “May I try one?”

Oliver went to the refrigerator, pulled a bottle out and shut the door. “Here. It’s pretty good.”

Hesitantly she took the bottle from him and unscrewed it. She sniffed. It positively smelled of blood, rich human blood. “Is it real?”

Quinn nodded. “Donated by humans, bottled, and refrigerated. We drink it cold, but if you want it warm, you can use the microwave.”

She shook her head. If he and his colleagues drank it cold, so would she. It was bad enough that she had never heard of bottled blood. None of the vampire hordes she had consorted with over the years had used bottled blood. All of them had fed directly from humans.

Setting the bottle to her lips, she took a tentative taste. The thick liquid filled her mouth, and her taste buds instantly analyzed it.

Wow!

She took another sip and another. It was good. Truth be told, it was very good. And what was even more important: it wasn’t messy. She didn’t have to pierce someone’s skin and dig her fangs into her victim, didn’t have to feel the person struggle against her. Didn’t need to see the fear in a human’s eyes when he or she knew what was coming. And she didn’t feel the disgust that she normally felt when she fed. She felt almost . . . normal. Like a real person, one, who was simply drinking a beverage. Cultivated, civilized, utterly normal.

By the time Rose removed the bottle from her lips, it was empty. She hadn’t even realized how fast she’d gulped down the delicious fluid. Clandestinely she eyed the refrigerator. Would it be greedy to ask for another one? The bottle had easily contained a pint. Yet, she was still hungry. Had she taken more than a pint from the humans she’d fed from? She honestly couldn’t tell. She had always stopped once her hunger was stilled, never realizing how much blood she’d stolen.

The thought made her sick. No wonder her sub-conscience had made her feel disgusted about the act.

“Give her another one, Oliver,” Quinn ordered.

Her gaze shot to him, worried that he was able to read in her face what was going on inside her.

“I’m fine. I don’t need anything else.” But it was a lie, and in his eyes she saw that he knew.

Quinn’s insistent wave to Oliver was all it took for her to cave. A moment later, she held a second bottle and drained it just as fast.

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