Boris and the Vampire (Legends of Pinewood 2)

You'll Have To Make Your Own Party

I massaged my temples, not even wanting to look at Etienne after the mess he'd caused at my first human-werewolf lesson.

Then again, I was to blame as well. I should've told the pups a firm no and kept Etienne upstairs. I wasn't to blame for the way the other werewolves decided it was a good idea to barge into my house, however. I knew they were impulsive, but I hadn't expected this.

Then again, maybe I should have.

I had doubts about letting the vampire stay here, to say the least, and I knew I was mild-mannered for a werewolf. The others were rough around the edges and far more inclined to follow their instincts that said a vampire was a threat, always.

They didn't know what I did about Etienne's 'mission' either. He wouldn't attack in this setting and risk losing his shot at... whatever he wanted to do with Pinewood. He was far too vulnerable, too—simply opening the blinds would've killed him on the spot. We'd risk open war by killing a vampire, but an angry werewolf may or may not take that into consideration.

Lost in thought, I almost forgot Etienne was still in the room with me. Until he deliberately cleared his throat.

I looked up. A confused frown furrowed the vampire's brow as he looked at me. "I thought you wanted me gone, wolf," he said. "This was the perfect opportunity to let them throw me outside and not take any blame in this. Why didn't you?"

Etienne was right about one thing: I knew Pinewood was safer with him either burnt to a crisp or chased out. The vampire's interest in these woods was deeply troubling, and as its protector, I should encourage everything that killed the vampire. Yet...

"Don't tell me your people wouldn't try to take revenge on mine if you got killed," I said. "And besides that, I don't want you to die. I want you to stay away from the people of Pinewood."

"Because you believe I can't be near them."

"Indeed. There's an inherent difference between us, vampire. You eat them. You're like a fox on cattle. If foxes were alluring to the cattle, of course."

Etienne's eyes went wide. Then he smirked as he pressed a hand to his heart. "Boris, did you just call me alluring? I know I am, but I'm glad you see it too. Living alone in a pigsty hasn't taken away all your taste, I see."

I stared at Etienne incredulously. "Really? Alluring is all you registered from everything I just said?"

Etienne shrugged. "I rather like the thought that I'm making things as difficult for you as you are doing for me. Admit it. Isn't there a part of you that wants me to drink your blood?"

"What?" I scrunched my nose. "Who the hell would want someone to drink their blood?"

"Oh, don't pretend it has no appeal at all," Etienne said playfully, like three werewolves hadn't just threatened to kill him moments ago. "I felt you shudder when I sucked your thumb. And it's like exchanging scents to wolves."

I raised a brow, but the vampire made me think. A werewolf's sense of smell was strong in a way other supernaturals couldn't even comprehend. We could get high on the scent of someone we liked. Maybe it was the same for vampires, and Etienne deeply enjoyed tasting some people's blood.

If that was the case, tasting wasn't far off from a werewolf's sense of smell. And yes, then the idea of someone getting high from the taste of your blood had some sort of appeal. Not that I was about to admit that. Two could play the selective hearing game.

"Does that mean you're finally admitting you like the taste of my blood?" I asked.

Etienne didn't scoff and express his disgust like I expected him to. Instead, he tilted his head to the side. "Maybe I do."