The pain in my neck abated. I began to feel the finer points of his activities. There was slow, consistent sucking. I could feel his fangs, which no longer stung. Whatever was against my skin (lips, tongue) felt achingly hot. Not painful, though. Another minute dragged by and I wondered if I could feel pain now.

His fangs slid out of my neck. They nipped me playfully (or punishingly, but he had calmed as he'd held me). Something swirled against my skin, and his lips tightened in a potentially bruising almost-kiss. Had I been capable I probably would have ripped his head off. Then he took pity on me and lifted his head.

We stared at each other. I broke the gaze first. I still couldn't so much as turn my head.

"Vampire saliva is one of the most sterile and beneficial liquids on the planet," he said. "It heals human skin. It purifies blood. Another vampire's saliva will not harm me."

What did I care if he got mono? Damian had been picking off girls from a nightclub. Any environment like that signified that viruses and so on didn't matter. Nothing I could do would threaten these people.

"Your blood is surprisingly toxic," the vampire said a second later. "I'm impressed. I haven't tasted blood that strong since the late 1500s. I destroyed that strain myself. . . ." He trailed off when my eyes shot back to his. "Very well. I will indulge your insistence that you are clueless. You may ask your questions."

I gave him a very sardonic glance. My throat was paralyzed!

He smiled. "If you have no questions, I suppose that I can enlighten you. I am Gerard Burke, formerly de Burgh. I was born in the year 1230. You are a youngblood. Your blood is toxic to young vampires and intoxicating to those of us who have matured. I rarely keep your kind as feeders; however, your unique circumstances have convinced me otherwise. We can't have you out and about killing my subordinates."

How toxic was toxic?

I abruptly found my voice. "Age isn't everything." Whoa, I could talk!

"You would know," he agreed wryly.

A retort formed, but I kept it to myself. I didn't need to show him the way I thought. He'd all but been in my head already. Unfortunately, I don't think I managed to wipe the insubordinate expression off my face. Too bad. "How much blood do I have left?" I asked. "There's a lot on my jacket." From the way my shirt still stuck to me after today's various struggles, my jacket wasn't an accurate readout.

"Young vampires can only stomach a few mouthfuls of blood like yours," the gray-eyed vampire explained. "He would have pulled out within seconds. He assumed you were one of mine and began healing you, but drinking from youngbloods is a precise art. No doubt the wound only scabbed over on its own. His efforts after the initial clotting were much more effective." Great, the licking hadn't been for nothing.

"I didn't drink your blood. Your blood is toxic. I only take a select few nutrients and antibodies. The older we are, the less we take. You won't suffer shock because I take less than ten percent of the water content."