Free Just One Taste by C. J. Ellisson Page B

Now would be good time to beat a hasty retreat before I lose the fragile moment. My earlier curiosity over his choice to visit here alone will have to be addressed another time. Rising from my seat, I head toward the exit.
    “I trust your stay here so far has been a good one?”
    He looks a bit dizzy; maybe I pushed too much. Damn. Subtlety is hard when amped up on Were blood.
    “Uh, yes. The resort has been great, exactly what I needed. Your employees have been a delight.”
    Meaning he’s fed from them and liked it. Good.
    “How do they all carry your scent?” Ah, he noticed. That’s the point.
    “Once a month, I fortify the water supply with a cup of my blood.” Drew’s eyes light up at this admission. Maybe I shared too much, but it wouldn’t take a genius to figure it out if anyone really put their mind to it. He’s weighing his next words carefully, yet I can tell he’s still working out all the implications of my statement.
    Giving the employees my blood may be a big step, but not an unheard of one when employing large numbers of humans. By sharing my blood, I protect them from other vampires, which also means I can’t feed from them either. When there’s a mutual blood exchange between human and an undead, it links them as vampire master and servant. The vampire can “call” them any time through the blood link they share, and the human must respond. I like to think of it as nature’s way of providing the vampire with a reliable food supply, but still, it’s not a power I wish to have over the employees.
    “You are quite the clever girl, Vivian. But doesn’t it limit who you feed from?” Drew has managed to put together what a lot of my guests overlook. Clearly, he’s not as fuzzy-headed as I’d thought.
    But he’s right. Having consumed my blood already, they would ALL be my servants if I fed from them. For my employees, the tiny bit of my blood they ingest, scents them to other vampires as “mine” and thus they carry my protection as my wards or extended family.
    “Yes, it does limit who I feed from.”
    Damn, he’s sure chatty tonight. I’d intended to question him and instead I’m bumbling through this whole encounter. I need to get the hell out of here.
    “I haven’t seen you at the bar much. We’re welcoming some new guests tonight. Care to join us?’’
    I decide to push him into coming, my eyes lock onto his while I slip into his mind again. Not wanting to go too deep and risk notice, I stay at the surface of his thoughts. I compel him to desire a change from these four walls and agree to come to the bar.
    Drew is an unknown. I need to learn more about him now that he may have sensed my true age. I could wipe the memory of my visit from him, but don’t want to risk the exposure.
    In reality, I hate subterfuge; it’s not in me. Learning to carefully use my gift has been a challenge my whole undead life. I’d rather rip the knowledge out of Drew and make everyone do as I say, but that would put the tribunal’s enforcers on me for sure.
    The fact I’m seriously considering such strong-arm tactics means something’s way off with me. The added infusion from Jon has me ready to believe in my earlier wish to control my little corner of the world.
    The darkness crouching inside my being flexes and grows, pushing to the edge of my senses while reaching out to sink its claws into Drew’s pliant mind. It whispers to me: Take what you want. Make him do it.
    With smooth precision, I pull myself back out of his head while locking the tempting power away. Easing from his surface thoughts, I state my earlier question again to bring his focus back to the present.
    “Drew, would you care to join us tonight in the bar?”
    I need to tell Rafe about my loss of control. If I’m not myself, he can help bring me back from the edge. Scary, how I was ready to practically mind-rape Drew a moment ago.
    To mess up here and now could be disastrous to our safety.
    Subtle steering of events?