Chapter 9

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Chapter 9

Curled up on my side, Vance's arms wrapped loosely around my form, I lay still, listening to the sound of his deep breathing as he slept.

My heart hurt.

I couldn't complain, really. Vance was always attentive to me, even when he was feeling very aggressive, taking extreme care to make sure my physical needs were being met, and this time hadn't been any different in that regard. I hated what was making me hurt—hated facing it.

Jealousy. I was jealous of the little blood wench he had fed from. I felt like he'd violated something between us, some type of understanding we had with each other. I released a huge sigh, not wanting to admit the whole truth of the situation to myself. I felt sick and depraved.

I liked it when he fed from me, I realized. It was intoxicating, powerful and extremely intimate. I loved that he needed me that way, and I'd grown used to being the only one to provide it for him. To see him go so willingly to another source was almost bordering on some type of infidelity to me.

Yes, I knew I was being ridiculous. After all it wasn't as if he hadn't fed from others before. He'd done so on several occasions.

With relish, I added to myself. Even to the point of enjoying taunting me with it.

That was what this dig was. He taunted me with his blood source, and he enjoyed it. I hated him a little for it. It felt abusive. Tears came unbidden to my eyes and rolled silently down my cheeks, dripping to the sheets beneath me. I didn't think I was making any noise, but I felt his arms tighten around me, and his head slipped into the crook of my neck.

"What's the matter, baby?" he whispered groggily. "Why are you crying?" When I didn't answer, he sighed heavily and placed a kiss against my hair before rolling me over. "Listen," he began. "I'm sorry I've been so rough. I let my feelings get the better of me and took them out on you. That was inexcusable."

I still didn't speak.

He sat up, leaning so he could look at me better. "I love you, baby. I really do." His gaze flitted over my face, and he moved closer, like he was going to kiss me, but I turned away.

"Portia." He sighed again, with obvious irritation. "Are you going to tell me what's the matter, or do I have to sit here all night and guess?"

Placing my hands on either side of his head, I opened my mind, linking it with his. I let the things I couldn't say flow freely into him. His eyes widened in surprise as he received my message, complete with all my emotions, loud and clear.

"Oh," he said, pulling from my grasp and sitting. He leaned against the pillows behind him and let out a slightly nervous laugh. "Well, I certainly botched things up, didn't I?"

I couldn't help myself, crying in earnest now.

Vance looked at me in something akin to horror. "No, no, no, baby," he crooned as he gathered me into his arms. "Don't do that. You're killing me here."

I covered my face, trying to find somewhere to hide from him, but he wasn't going to let it go.

"She didn't mean anything to me, Portia. I was just thirsty."

I sobbed harder.

Cursing under his breath, I could feel the tension coursing through his body. He was angry with himself and more than a little part of me was glad. I wanted him to hurt, like he'd hurt me, but that made me feel even worse about myself and only served to add to my distress.

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