The woman walked past her, carrying a bowl of stew. No doubt she was heading toward Kuluun. Though Saraal and the other Sida didn’t need food to survive—she’d learned that when she was in the earth and given nothing more than pony blood—they did eat some. An empty stomach triggered the same pains in a Sida belly as a human one. Luckily, a small meal lasted long in their stomach; Saraal relieved herself only rarely.

But she enjoyed food, and she wanted some of the stew. More, she wanted some of Kuluun’s woman’s blood. Aday was right; it would be rich. The woman was plump with life, like the berries she remembered once grew along the riverbanks near her village. In the summer, they swelled fat and red like the woman’s cheeks.

Saraal caught the woman’s eyes and held out a hand. Sneering, the woman came closer.

“What do you want, Saraal?” The human knew not to ignore her completely, as Saraal suspected everyone knew what had really happened to Odval.

She held out a hand, and the human huffed out a sigh. “This is for Kuluun. Tell one of the others to get a bowl for you.” Then she curled her lip. “I’ll allow it, even though it is my own meal.”

“She eats the meat of a razed village and boasts,” Aday said. “Maybe you should kill her.”

Saraal shook her head, the ghost of a smile turning up her mouth.

The human’s eyes widened and she stepped back, but Saraal was too fast.

One touch.

That was all it took, and she felt the faint energy leave the tips of her fingers, which were banded around the woman’s wrist. The energy wound up the arm, the neck, until it grasped the woman’s mind like a viper and sank its teeth to hold on.

“Should I tell her to come back?” Saraal asked Aday.

“No. He will know you hold her mind. Do it now.”

Bend down and give me your neck.

“Wait. Take her behind the tent,” Aday said softly. “You don’t want the others to tell Kuluun.”

Saraal stood and took the woman to an empty tent. Then she gave the command again.

Give me your neck.

Wordlessly, she tilted her head back and Saraal felt her fangs grow long. They pricked her own tongue before she folded herself down and sank her teeth into the soft neck of the human.

Bliss.

It wasn’t as sweet as Odval’s blood, nor as rich, but the human’s blood was pure and clear, like water from a spring stream. She drank in, not thinking until she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Aday.

“Not too much,” she whispered. “Now heal her neck and tell her to forget.”

“How do I heal—”

“Think, Saraal. What heals you if you have a cut?”

Her own blood. It was something she’d learned accidentally after Kuluun had beaten her bloody. The areas where her blood trickled into her wounds closed faster. Saraal pricked her finger with a fang and spread the red blood over the bite marks in the human’s neck.

Within minutes, they were closed.

“Now, tell her to forget.” Aday’s voice sounded bossy to her ears.

Saraal stood up and met her eyes. “I know what to do, Aday.”

“Do you?”

She glared at Aday and turned to the woman, tugging on the thread that connected them.

Forget this. Forget the tent. Forget my bite. You’re back at the cooking fire and taking a bowl of stew to Kuluun.

She thought that would work. If it didn’t, she’d find out soon enough.

The human ducked out of the tent and Saraal heard her scurry away. Her ears were open. Her eyes took in every corner of the dark tent, which belonged to one of Suk’s older children.

She inhaled deeply and escaped into the night.

“How do you feel?” Aday asked, as they walked along the dark edge of the camp.

“Good.”

“Only good?”

Saraal shrugged. “Good is enough.”

“No, it’s not.” Angry fire lit Aday’s eyes. “Good is never enough. Nothing is enough for you. This starts tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Saraal was annoyed and wanted to remain unnoticed for a while. As much as the other Sida were avoiding her, she still didn’t want to court Kuluun’s wrath.

“What am I talking about?” Aday was grinning like a madwoman, her curling fangs and cloudy eyes alight with humor. “You’re walking on air now, my girl. And you’re not going to stop.”

“I know… you’re… drinking… it!” Each pause was punctuated by a fist as Kuluun straddled her, holding her to the ground as her ears rung and her eyes swam. “I saw you flying. I smell you on her!”

Flying was probably an exaggeration. The most she could do was hover. But Saraal had no doubt that Kuluun could smell her on his human, who became very affectionate when she was bitten. Who knew it could be a pleasurable experience for humans? Saraal found the touching distasteful. She only humored the woman because she enjoyed the blood. Unfortunately, it was the woman’s moan of pleasure that alerted Kuluun to Saraal’s drinking. Or at least, confirmed it. He’d grabbed her from her tent as she woke and taken her to his.

Kuluun’s fist caught Saraal under her ear, and she felt a trickle of blood leak out. She’d have to drink extra later. If she was still conscious.

But she wasn’t going to stop drinking.

“Ungrateful bitch! I should have killed you years ago.”

How was Kuluun still so strong? With all the children he’d sired, he should be weak. Saraal guessed it was a combination of brute force, blood gluttony, and pure hate. It occurred to Saraal that he was so enraged, he might actually kill her. If he took off her head…