I knelt and checked the pulse in his neck. It battered away, fast and shallow, like the heart of a terrified rabbit.

‘Not what you were expecting, was it, Gazza?’ I murmured.

The four vamps had taken him out to dinner, and then some. He was lucky his heart was young and healthy—but he was still losing blood, and if the bites weren’t closed, he’d bleed out. And be just as dead.

I gave him a mocking smile. ‘And we wouldn’t want that, would we?’

Bending over him, I licked at the bite in the crook of his arm. The metallic taste of his blood burst over my tongue. The adrenalin made it sweet and frothy, like a fizzy drink. The stream slowed then stopped as my vamp saliva speeded up the clotting process. I took a non-breath and forced myself to spit out his blood, rather than do what I really wanted to—roll it round my mouth... and swallow.

I tore a strip off his ruined T-shirt and bandaged it round his arm. He let out a quiet whimper as I carefully pulled his coat up and over his shoulders. I turned to the bites on his legs next. He had one on the inside of each thigh, high up, close to the groin. His red briefs were wet with his own blood.

I sighed. ‘Shame they couldn’t have picked a less awkward spot, Gazza,’ I muttered, though of course I knew the answer to that one: fang-gangs went in for veins in a big way. I closed the first bite and wrapped more material around his skinny thigh. The other was higher, half-covered by the soft bulges in his briefs. Gingerly, I pushed the red fabric lumps out of the way and started on the bite.

Something stirred under my fingers. I rolled my eyes. Males were all the same. What with all that adrenalin and blood pumping round his body, it hadn’t taken much for his hormones to spring to life—even if he was halfway to dying.

The blood clotted under my tongue. I sat up and spat it out, then started shredding more T-shirt. His briefs hadn’t managed to contain his excitement and he poked out, twitching almost as much as he was shivering.

‘C’mon, Gaz, give it a rest, will you,’ I muttered. ‘Try using that blood somewhere more sensible, like your pea-sized brain.’

In answer, his shivers changed to full-blown tremors. Damn.He was going into seizure. Red Poet must’ve shot him up with more venom than I’d thought.

I gripped Gazza’s bony shoulders. He jerked like he’d been hit by a massive stun-spell and his knee jolted up, caught me in the chest and sent me sprawling. He panted open-mouthed and his lips started to turn blue—his venom-fuelled blood was rushing too fast through his lungs to consider stopping to pick up oxygen. I flung myself on top of him, using my bodyweight to keep him still.

The venom had to come out, and fast.

His spine bowed, nearly throwing me off again. Grabbing his hair, I wrenched his head to the side. A flash of Red Poet doing the same before he struck left a slimy feeling in my gut. The last bite was high up—it had missed the carotid artery by a goblin’s whisker—and clear fluid leaked out of the pinprick marks, not blood. I clamped my mouth down, my fangs piercing the swelling skin. Liquid fire streamed down my throat. The world went silver and shiny and hazy—it felt like every cell in my body was expanding, drinking in the venom, and I was losing the parched, tight, coldness that was my usual existence.

I sucked, mindless as a newly Gifted vampire, revelling in the pulsating heat spreading out through my body. Fingers groped at me and I moaned in pleasure. The jerks beneath me took on a rhythm, old as ages and I ground myself against him, wanting more. Hot breath panted in my ear, smells of salt and sweat teased my nose, metallic copper taste filled my mouth ...

I snapped my head up, awareness returning with the first swallow of blood.

Gazza grunted, his hands clutching at my back and then his chicken-wing hips jerked one last time. For one frozen moment I looked at him. His black eyeliner was smudged beneath his eyes, angry red spots dotted his chin, and with each exhalation a gob of snot ballooned around the safety pin in his right nostril—

I’d blown out the male model and Corset Girl for this?

I really was a sucker.

Rising onto my hands and knees above him, I spat, trying again to get rid of the taste of his blood. His heart beat fast and shallow under his thin ribs, but it no longer pounded at the same dangerous rate as before. I closed my eyes briefly. My own heartbeat had restarted, a slow strong thud in my chest, but frustration and need still clawed inside me. Even now, sated with venom, I wanted more. A voice in my mind screamed at me to take what I wanted—what I needed.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

I had virtually raped him, a kid—never mind I’d probably saved his life, never mind that he’d probably enjoyed it. He hadn’t been in a position to choose. A buzzing started in my ears, my stomach heaved...

A hand grabbed my hair, nearly ripping it from my scalp, and I crashed into the wall of the alley. My skull cracked against the brick and stars exploded in my head.

Chapter Seventeen

There was a naked foot inches from my face. It seemed to have more than the requisite number of toes. I blinked and the toes resolved themselves into the standard five. I moved my head, then stopped as pain jabbed into my skull. Ignoring the foot, I cautiously touched the back of my scalp, and bringing my hand back in front of me, I stared at my fingers—it looked like I’d dipped them in red paint.

Shit. So not good.

I tried to get up and more pain jabbed along my side, making me gasp. I slumped back, wishing the spell would hurry up and heal my injuries.

‘How disappointing.’ Hot thumb-tacks marched over my skin. ‘That I should find you like this.’

I recognised the voice, recognised the not-quite-English accent. Malik al-Khan.

Why wasn’t he wearing any shoes?

His feet were narrow, elegant. A thin band of jet ringed one of his toes. I stifled an almost overwhelming urge to reach out and touch and instead looked up. Black trousers, loose black silk shirt, I hesitated at the tantalising glimpse of pale skin at his throat and lifted my gaze further, straight into a pair of shadowed black eyes, punctuated by glowing red pupils.

My heart lurched with terror, and something else. ‘What the fuck did you do that for?’

Malik dropped into a crouch. The movement was as elegant as his feet. It brought his eyes closer. I pressed against the brick wall, not sure it had improved matters.

‘The human was near death.’ His voice was a soft threat.

My gaze flicked to where Gazza was lying, still unconscious. I concentrated, listened to his pulse. It had slowed and now his heart was beating steadily; he obviously had the stamina of a cart horse. Relief eased the snarl in my gut. ‘Not any more.’

Malik shook his head, the movement abrupt. ‘Feeding in such a way is dangerous. It is this’—his hand sliced towards Gazza—‘that escalates their fears, turning them into maddened vigilantes. That is why it is forbidden.’

An irritated part of me wanted to say, I didn’t start it, I was just trying to help,but then if I’d been the one I’d discovered sucking on the damned evidence, I probably would’ve found me guilty too.

‘Thanks for the lecture.’ I started to edge to one side. ‘But really, it’s not needed. Believe me, I get all that PC stuff.’ The movement jarred my skull. I blinked away the pain, it wasn’t as bad now, so at least the spell was doing its thing. ‘Now, I’m just going to clear up my little mess and we can forget all about it.’

He sighed, the sound sliding wearily round me. ‘You are mine, Rosa. I cannot forget. Nor can I allow you to continue like this.’

Confused, I frowned. ‘What did you say?’

‘I have been informed you had become feral, Rosa.’ He ran fingers through his dark hair, pushing it from his pale, pretty face. ‘I did not believe it so.’ The black gem still pierced his lobe. ‘Until now.’