EMILY
I WATCH the emotions shift across Garrett's face. The incomprehension. The anger.
Surprisingly, he ultimately lands on deep concern.
But I don't miss the initial flash of repulsion. That was his very first, instinctual reaction.
The one that matters most. And not one that could make me feel worse about myself.
"Emily," he says. "A vampire forcing you let them drink from you —" "She's not forcing me. I let her. Not… not a fresh feed. Not right from the neck. But I donate a pint of my blood every eight weeks to her, and it's entirely voluntary."
"Why would you do that?"
"Because it's a fair deal. She lets me live rent-free in the house my dad left to her, and she agrees to keep the diner instead of selling it. In return, all I have to do is give her my blood. One pint, every two months. It's a good deal."
"Fucking hell." He rubs a hand over his face. "It's not a deal at all.
She's coercing you."
"It could be worse."
