Della watched as one man got up, pulled a needle out of his own arm, and sealed off the bag with some kind of plastic clamp. But the ripe smell of all those exotic flavors filled the room. She watched as he put the blood on a metal tray.

"Hungry, aren't you?" he asked and he smiled at her. She tightened her eyes and saw he had a pattern similar to the nurse. Was he fae?

She inhaled, the smell again filling her nose. Realizing they offered to sell her the blood later, she concluded that they obviously weren't being forced to give up blood. Somehow that made her desire for it less hideous.

Her heart raced. Her stomach grumbled and she dove over the man, her only goal, her only desire to get her hands on that bag of blood.

Chapter 6

She got it. The other men stood up from their beds, the needles were yanked from their arms, blood spilling on the floor, as they stood. She hissed at them thinking they would attack but they all backed up, as if she frightened them. She knew she frightened herself. The deep angry sounds parting her lips were unlike any she'd ever made.

Moving backwards, she found the doorknob and made it outside the door, but loud ear-pinching noise filled her head. Alarms. She held the plastic bag of blood close to her chest and ducked between people-crowded tables. Heads turned and followed her every move. She realized that perhaps the others were like her and could probably smell the blood. But she still didn't care. She needed this. Had to have it.

Suddenly, she felt someone grab her arm and yank her across the room. She fought, but her attacker's strength matched her own. The alarms kept ringing, she heard people running away from her and some toward her. Whoever had her continued to pull her across the room. She glanced up and didn't see a door, no way to escape. Would she die here because she'd stolen blood? She tried to pull away, but couldn't. And then they crashed through a window, shards of glass fell around her, and in seconds they were flying.

"That was so stupid," Chan said. "You so could have gotten us killed."

She closed her eyes tight, preventing her weakness from showing, but on the inside, where it counted the most, the tears fell. What was happening to her? What kind of monster had she become?

In a matter of minutes, she and Chan stood outside her house. Normally, he landed on the roof and they crawled in her bedroom window. Not this time. She clutched the blood to her chest as if it were a precious stone.

"If you want it, you'd better drink now," he said, his frustration evident from his posture to his tone. "Your parents are up and pissed."

The bag of blood in her hand was still warm. Somehow its scent leaked out of the plastic and filled her nose. Della looked back at her house. "How do you know they're up?"

"Focus. Your sensitive hearing should already be working."

She looked up at her bedroom window. "I can't hear. . ." And suddenly she could. Her mom cried and her dad muttered about how he planned to find a good drug rehab. She stared back at Chan. "I'm not using drugs?"

"Yeah, but you're doing things you've never done, so they just assume. My parents did the same thing." He sighed. "But it doesn't matter what they think."

"It does to me," Della snapped back.

He shook his head. "Can't you see how impossible living here will be? It's not like you can keep your blood supply in the fridge. You're not going to fit into their lifestyle now."

She shook her head. "I can't . . . I can't walk away from . . . Lee. I can't leave my sister. She needs me." And whether she wanted to admit it or not, she loved her parents.

"Hard-headed Della," he muttered. "I should have known you'd have to find it out for yourself. So go . . . walk in there with your blood and see if you can explain it." He threw up his hands as if exasperated. "I'm leaving. Going back to Utah. How are you going to get blood tomorrow or the next day? You can't live with humans anymore. You can't."

"They're my family," she said.

"Not anymore. I'm your family. Other vampires are your family. You'll see. You don't belong here."

She looked down at the bag of blood. Her hands shook. Her chest hurt with emotion.

"Ah screw it," Chan said and the fury in his eyes faded. "Give me the blood. I'll bring it to you later. Go deal with your parents. But I'm telling you, I can't hang around here to supply you with blood forever. Sooner or later, you're going to have to leave them. You'll see. I don't care how hardheaded you are, sooner or later, you're going to have to accept my help."

* * *

Della refused to cry. No matter how harsh, how bitter her father's words were. She sat there on the sofa, her chin held high, talking the insults. Each one hurt a little bit more. But damn it to hell and back. She wouldn't cry. Her father continued, She was a disappointment to him and his family legacy. She'd brought shame down on her family name. He would never be able to stand proud in public again.

"Go to your room and think about what you have done!" he finally demanded.

She did go. She couldn't get away from him, or her mom, fast enough. Her mom had stood stone-faced and let him say those horrible things. All of it a lie. She wasn't taking drugs, or selling her body to different men to feed her obsession.

She'd given her body to one, Lee, who she loved, who loved her. When she got to her room and slammed the door, she tried to swallow the shame, the anger, the fury that filled her throat.