Blood Stain: Book Three of the Blood Type Series (complete)

A Test

Margaret's theory worked. While I had a long way yet to go in mastering the tricky art of compulsion, drinking even a small amount of fresh Donor blood elevated my powers of persuasion from nonexistent to almost reliable, if only temporarily.

"I don't like it," John said when I broke the news to him after Margaret's and my first session together.

"I knew you would overreact."

"I'm not overreacting, Blake. I've told you before that fresh Donor blood is the gateway—"

"To becoming an addict," I interrupted. "I know. You've made your views on the matter perfectly clear. You don't want me drinking Donor blood directly from the source because you think I'll get hooked. But the way I see it, we don't have much choice. Until I hone my skills, this is what works."

John looked away, his mouth set in a firm line as he fumed. Still, his concerns weren't without merit. Given the choice, I would drink nothing but Donor blood instead of the slightly flat-tasting bagged stuff. On the few occasions I'd consumed fresh blood, every cell in my body had come alive.

"It makes sense," Hannah commented, her finger tapping thoughtfully against her bottom lip. John gave her an exasperated look, but she ignored him and went on, speaking only to me.

"Working for the Abernathys had its perks," she said. "All of us vampires had easy—and free—access to the Donors who were kept on hand. Although I drank mostly bagged pints like a good little girl, I did indulge from time to time. I noticed that immediately after, I felt sharper and more focused." She turned to John and blinked her long, dark eyelashes. "Didn't you find that to be true?"

A high blush rose in his cheeks. "I've never tasted fresh Donor blood."

Hannah snorted. "Bending the truth on a technicality. You just took what you wanted, and to hell with them being registered Donors."

John's lips compressed even tighter. "I've done things in my life I am ashamed of, but I refuse to rehash my first years as a vampire. I barely kept myself alive as it was."

He took a deep breath in through his nose, his chest rising with the effort of restraining his temper. When he spoke again, his voice had lost some of its edge. "Suffice it to say, Andrew Larsen introduced me to the Donor program and taught me a safer, more humane way of feeding. For that, I am grateful. It is because of the Donor program that vampires can live a civilized life without any harm coming to humans."

He met my eyes directly, his gaze intense and uncharacteristically paternal. I hated it when he looked at me that way. "I speak from experience," he said. "Which is why I am asking you to be cautious. Do not drink any more fresh Donor blood—"

"But John, I—"

He held up a hand, stopping my words. "Do not drink any more fresh Donor blood than is necessary to satisfy Margaret Abernathy and her father."

"I won't," I said, exhaling. "I promise."

**********

I was infinitely relieved the annual Kinsley-Ehlert holiday party would soon be over and done with for yet another year. Dividing my time between school, secret vampire meetings at John's house, and now compulsion training with Margaret Abernathy hadn't exactly left time for other extracurricular activities such as dating or, more important to my mother, party planning. I couldn't seem to get out from under her dictatorial thumb.

"Put these on the table," she said, pushing two potted poinsettias—one for each hand—in my direction.

"The house looks fine as it is," I said, trying not to feel too annoyed with her. After all, she'd worked hard, as always. "Why are you stressing out so much, anyway?"