Chapter Sixteen

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The anti-coagulants added to blood bags had a sharp, sour taste that—in August's opinion— ruined it completely. He'd never drank bleach, for obvious reasons, but he imagined that this was something like how it tasted. It was only a temporary fix, like fast food, and he'd be hungry for more within a few hours, but it was the only option.

For decades, August had been disgusted by Charles' method of feeding, his reliance on blood bags. Once his body had begun to succumb to long overdue age, it had been a necessity, but before his face had begun to sag, before the skin became papery and translucent in patches, August had believed it to be nothing more than arrogance and self-importance. Charles' dependence on blood bags had not helped his aging body, his slow decay. Yet now, perhaps, August was beginning to understand why he had relied on them for so long.

The night out with Paige had been going so well. She was opening up to him and he found he enjoyed her company. She was easy to be around, and he could understand why Thomas liked her so much. But after he thought he'd spotted Spencer, a double take across a crowded bar that had turned out to be nothing more than his imagination, he had lost all enthusiasm for it. He had ensured Paige fed, young as she was she needed it far more than he did, and he'd retreated to Charles' old quarters where he knew he would not be disturbed.

Just before dawn, he'd gone downstairs to stand on the terrace. He lit a cigarette and held it between his fingers—not smoking it—just letting it burn and filling him with that sweet acrid smell he had become so familiar with. Even when Spencer brushed his teeth right after smoking, the scent was still there, smoke clinging to his skin and hair, a soft subtle note in the back of his breath.

August drank the last few mouthfuls of sour blood as quickly as he could stomach it and tossed the bag into the trash. He turned around and jolted in surprise.

"Thomas," he said. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

His eyes narrowed as the weight of his surprise settled in his stomach. That he'd not heard Thomas was surprising, but he knew many of them had learned to move silently. What was more worrisome was that he'd not caught a scent of anyone stood behind him. He'd not sensed his presence at all. His gaze flickered to the blood bag. Shaking his head, he rounded back to Thomas.

"No, it's fine. I must have been in other thoughts."

Thomas nodded, his eyes downcast. August sighed.

"Something bothering you, Thomas?"

The young vampire shook his head, but he looked like someone had killed a puppy. August glared at him until the boy buckled and looked away.

"Something's going on with Paige."

"What, exactly?"

"That's the thing, I have no idea," Thomas said. His shoulders slumped and he moved further into the kitchen. He grabbed the fridge handle and pulled the door open and closed three times with no visible interest with what was inside. "We were... well, you know..."

"Having sex?" August asked bluntly.

Thomas blushed. August took a moment of relief that, whatever was upsetting Thomas was not enough to have stopped him from feeding recently.

"She just suddenly got up and locked herself in the bathroom."

"I'm sorry?"

"Just disappeared, slammed the door and won't come out."

"Did she say anything?"

Thomas opened and closed the fridge a few more times. August stepped up to him and shoved his hand against the door, holding it closed.

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