“If you don’t mind.”

Ruth let out a tut and came into the office. “Don’t be silly.”

“I appreciate this so much.”

“Don’t be daft, love. Danny and I are happy to have the bit of extra, aren’t we?”

Ruth and her husband Dan had become the sole humans Anne drank from now that the threat of Elixir had become a reality. She was old enough that a healthy pint a week should have kept her strong, but Ruth and Dan could only give her one pint a month between the two of them, and Anne had always needed more than the average amount of human blood. Other immortals kept larger household staff, but almost all supplemented with animal blood nowadays. Anne was no exception.

Ruth settled on the couch with Anne next to her, holding out a wrist and chattering about one of her terrier bitches that was about to have puppies. She and Dan had never been able to have children, so the animals had become the focus of all Ruth’s maternal leanings.

Well, the terriers and Anne. Though Anne had hired her when Ruth was in her twenties, the woman had always tried to mother her. Amusing, yes, but not unwelcome. Anne was over two hundred years old, but she still enjoyed a bit of mothering from time to time.

“Ready then?”

Ruth smiled and nodded. Anne brushed a hand along the human’s forearm, letting the amnis lull her into a light sleep. Both Ruth and Dan preferred it that way, and it made taking the blood slightly less awkward for all.

Anne felt her fangs grow long and she inhaled, taking in the sweet, familiar scent of her friend’s blood at the wrist.

“Thank you,” she whispered a moment before she bit.

Euphoria.

Anne lost herself in it for the first few swallows. There was nothing like human blood. No other substance on earth carried the taste of pure life to her. It was hardly surprising that newborns and ancients alike craved it. Blood was substance and heat. Air and water. It pulsed with the pounding of the human heart. Filled the arteries and tributaries of the body. Ebb and flow. Beat and brush…

She sank farther and drank.

Her senses heightened and she could hear the lick of water as the tide swelled the bay. A night heron croaked near the shore. The wind raked over the eaves, and the blood slid down her throat, silken heat and lush longing. She ached for more.

More.

Aware she was skating the fine edge of control, Anne closed her eyes and pulled away.

Taking a deep breath, she wrestled her bloodlust under control.

She’d waited too long.

It wasn’t working. Human blood once a month was not enough. She hadn’t battled her own instincts this way since she’d been a young vampire. There had to be some other solution. She needed to be drinking animal more often or hunting actively. Something to sooth the wild craving in her body.

Anne took another deep breath and returned to Ruth’s wrist with a calmer head.

Having blood offered, even if Anne insisted on paying Ruth for it, was still a humbling experience. She needed this. Though she could exist on animal blood alone, only human blood offered the regenerating fifth element immortals needed to feed their bodies and their minds. Animals carried only a hint of it.

Anne had never wondered why the ancients tried to find the elixir of immortal life. A formula that would satisfy bloodlust would ease the aching weakness vampires had for humanity.

It was the great paradox of their lives: superior to humans in every way but desperately in need of them.

Anne felt as if her kind was at a crossroads in their history. As the technological revolution swept the world, it left vampires behind. Because of the amnis that kept them alive, they weren’t able to access the technology that was making the world smaller and smaller. The immortal population was never more aware of their weaknesses and never more in need of humans to help them.

And that need fostered a burning resentment toward many who saw humanity as being closer to cattle than equals.

Savoring the last few swallows of live blood, Anne lingered over Ruth’s wrist, touching her tongue to her fang to draw a drop of her own blood to heal Ruth before she pulled away and left the woman on the couch. She went to the small refrigerator in Anne’s office and grabbed a glass of milk along with a freshly baked cookie.

It was a classic for a reason.

She gave Ruth a few minutes to wake up on her own, jotting down notes in her planner as her secretary’s eyes fluttered open.

“Milk and cookie.” Anne pointed to the tray on the side table.

“Chocolate chip?”

“Oatmeal raisin.”

“Oh, you do love me,” Ruth said with a cheerful wink. The woman was as hearty as the fisherfolk she and Anne were both descended from. In a few minutes, she’d be on her way, bustling and bossing with no sign of weakness. Dan was the same.

“So, do you want to join me and Brigid for tea?”

Ruth shook her head. “I’ve got a mountain of filing to do, along with the correspondence to mail. I’ll leave you two. Plus she sounded as if she had business-type things to discuss.”

“Oh?”

Brigid was one of Patrick Murphy’s security officers. What business did she have that might concern Anne?

LIKE all vampires, Brigid was forced to drive a classic car. Electronics were too pervasive in newer vehicles. It varied with the elements. Earth and wind vampires weren’t as reactive. Water vampires were more so. And fire vampires like Brigid were the worst. Brigid’s mate, Carwyn, had restored a beauty of an old Triumph coupe for his wife, painted it a glossy black, and taken it to a mechanic that specialized in converting cars for immortals. As a result, the engine purred as Brigid made her way up Anne’s road just a few minutes after midnight.