Love Me to Death (Underveil, #1)(76)

“Fuel.”

“Oh God. Do we have enough?”

“Not for the plane. Fuel for you.”

“Oh no. I’m great. I have a whole box of protein bars. Thanks.”

Ricardo turned in the copilot’s chair to face her. “You know exactly what he’s asking. I’m not nearly as polite and polished as the Time Folder, so allow me to clarify. You are a Dhampir. You don’t need blood to live, but it fuels your powers. You need as much power as possible before we land. We don’t know what you will face at the fortress.”

Oh God. There was no way she could do this. She wasn’t some superhero Uniter thingy. She was just a woman. One frightened, confused woman who was powerless to face a foe she didn’t even understand.

“You are far more than that,” he said. “You may be confused, but you are far from powerless, and you absolutely can do this. You are the Uniter destined to stop the war.”

Holy shit, could he read her mind?

“Yes, I can.”

Fuck.

“I can do that, too.” He laughed, and despite herself, she laughed along with him. It felt good to laugh. Stefan smiled, shook his head, and stared out at the blank nothingness through the windshield.

“Okay then, what about fuel did you want to tell me?” she asked.

“You need some,” Ricardo answered. “You need blood. You need mine.”

Wait. No. She couldn’t. She went all horny and practically dived into Nik’s pants the last time she drank blood. “I can’t.”

“It won’t be that way with me. I’m not your mate.” He waited for her to calm down a bit. “It was his blood that changed you. No one will hold the same appeal for you. You’ve nothing to fear.”

Stefan shifted uncomfortably in the captain’s chair and cleared his throat.

“Well, someone doesn’t agree with you.”

Ricardo glared at Stefan, and she knew it was true. Something was up.

“Nothing is up,” he said. “The Time Folder is not worried about you. He’s worried about me. I’m the one likely to lose control. I don’t have a mate, and vampires are not like elves and Time Folders. We have multiple options. Like humans, our mates come by choice, not destiny, though once we make our choice, it is firm.”

“Why not Stefan?”

“He’s of a race not even of this world. It won’t fuel you.”

“Margarita?”

“She is centuries younger, and her blood is not as fortifying.”

She took him in from his Italian designer shoes to his perfectly tailored suit, to his blood-red shirt that matched his eyes and his jet-black jacket as dark as his hair. What, she wondered, would happen if he lost control?

“I would bite you back. In a bloodlust, I would react much the same way you react with your mate.” He grinned, showing perfectly white, straight teeth and sharp fangs. “I would…how did you so eloquently put it? Ah, ‘go all horny and practically dive into your pants.’”

Uh-oh.

“Yes, exactly. But there are measures we can take. And I really need to teach you how to block your thoughts.”

“Can’t you just cut yourself and put it in a glass or something?”

“Straight from the vein, or it has no potency at all.”

Before long, Ricardo was strapped to a chair in the cabin and bound with netting Stefan said was used to secure loose items being transported. It all seemed a little excessive to Elena, but all of this was new to her, so she just stood back while Margarita tied one last knot in the rope around the vampire’s arms, then put a large silver cuff over each wrist. Stefan sat on the edge of the seat facing them.

“The neck is the best location. The fastest. And do me a favor,” Ricardo added. “Think of something awful. Something other than your mate or me or what you are doing. Think of paint drying or something utterly boring, okay?”

“Can’t you turn the mind-reading thing off?”

“Sadly, no. But I can’t read everyone’s mind. Time Folders and Slayers for example, are immune.”

“But you can hear me all the time?”

“Like a bullhorn in my brain, baby.”

Shit.

“Exactly. Now, let’s get this over with.”

His voice was tinged with a Spanish accent that was appealing. And as she got closer, she noticed he smelled like starch and clean linen.

“Stop it. You hate my voice, and I smell bad. Like horse manure.”

And soap and shaving cream. The blood pulsed just under the surface of his skin, and her body approved with a sharp pulsing of her canine teeth.

“I am so screwed,” he groaned.

She leaned down, but for some reason, despite the aching in her teeth, she couldn’t go through with it.

“Do it now,” he ordered.

Nik. She would do this for Nik. She had to be strong to save Nik and the baby.

“And your people,” Ricardo added. “And stop thinking about him. Think about drying paint and do it.”

She bit down hard and he gasped. His blood didn’t taste like Nik’s. It was more metallic. Still, it felt amazing as it charged straight to her veins. This couldn’t be right. She didn’t want to be unfaithful to Nik. This was wrong.