Nico asked. I didn’t know how long we’d lain there together, sated. The sounds of the piano still floated up from downstairs, and I’d been more than content to continue lying there, my right arm around him while his head rested on my chest. The moment the words left his mouth, the all-too-familiar pang shot agony through me. How had he known before I did? What exactly was he? He said he was more than a witch, and while I didn’t know exactly what all a witch could do, I was more than willing to believe his claim. “Lorenzo and I have some sport planned for later this evening, you know,” he whispered, “and you’ll be able to drink your fill then. But if you need something to get you by until then”—he pressed his wrist to my mouth—“by all means have some of my blood.” He smiled at me. “They never tell you how arousing it is when a vampire feeds from you. It was almost better than sex.” His hair fell forward into his face, and he brushed it back again. “But sex with you was better than any I’d ever had before.
