Last Blood by Kristen Painter

she was going to make him fall in love with her again? That moment of weakness was not going to be repeated. He’d rather it disappear from his brain the same way his love for her had. What had he been thinking? What vampire fell in love with their meal? It disgusted him that he’d stooped so low. Made his gut ache with unpleasant feelings.
    He stared down at the sheets crumpled in his fist. If she would just stay away from him, maybe he could forgive her for interfering in his life.
Weakling
. But no, visiting him was too much. Too bold for someone who was nothing more than a food source to him now. A small pain jolted through his chest. He rubbed at it, chalking it up to indigestion from last night’s poor choice of blood supply.
    Dropping the sheets, he got to his feet and smiled. Tonight would be different. Tonight he was going to dine on the finest blood he’d ever had and solve his biggestproblem at the same time. The solar flickered and went dark. Twilight. Freedom.
    He changed his clothes, then loped toward the exit, already anticipating the night that lay ahead of him. Throwing open the door, he stepped out onto the deck and stopped as the intoxicating aroma of human blood met him.
    A shiny rectangular container sat a few feet beyond the door. The scent was so strong around the black box, it almost glowed red. He inhaled, scanning the area, but couldn’t pick up anything that indicated another presence nearby.
    Cautiously, he crouched and put his hands on the container. Warm. Almost hot. How long had it sat out here in the sun? There was no lock, so he flipped the latch and opened it.
    The voices went crazy. Bags of blood filled it to the top. He grabbed one. It was warm enough to be body temperature. His fangs shot down and he grinned. This was just what he needed. Now he could feed before he went after Chrysabelle, which meant her blood wouldn’t sway him and he’d be able to take his time with her.
    He squeezed one of the bags to tighten it, then sank his fangs in. Definitely human. Not the best blood he’d ever had, but it was still rich and thick and perfectly heated. He drank deeply, emptying the first bag quickly. He tossed it and grabbed another. Near the end of that one, the ship seemed to lurch, throwing him off balance. He caught himself as he rocked to the side. What little light was left of dusk faded fast. So fast his eyes couldn’t keep up. Unable to hold the bag to his mouth any longer, his arm went limp and the bag fell to the deck.
    His eyes closed and a second later, he dropped to the deck beside it.
    Fi pushed a piece of bacon around on her plate with her fork. She hadn’t slept well since the incident with Remo, but she hadn’t mentioned it to Doc either. She knew he wouldn’t be happy that she’d spent time with Remo. Or would he? It
was
an effort on her part to get to know Remo better. She sighed and made a mound of her scrambled eggs.
    Doc looked up from reading the morning news on his tablet. “You all right?” His gaze went to her plate. “Don’t like Isaiah’s cooking?”
    She shoveled a forkful of eggs into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “No, it’s great.” She took a sip of coffee. “I think I’m going to go shopping today.”
    “You know you can have anything you want sent in.”
    She frowned at him. “How long have you known me? What’s my favorite thing to do?”
    He broke into a wicked smile. “Me?”
    She laughed. “Besides you.”
    “Shop,” he answered. “Probably not as much fun when someone does it for you.”
    “No fun at all. Plus, I told Chrysabelle I’d help her pick out some new stuff so she can start to ditch her all-white look.”
    “About time. How’s she doing with… everything?”
    “Okay.” Fi bit her lip to keep from blurting out that Chrysabelle was pregnant. She tucked her napkin under the edge of her plate and stood. “I’m going to get ready. You busy all day?”
    He nodded as she came around to his side. “All day every