Midnight Bites (The Morganville Vampires)

She pulled her hand back and folded it into a fist. “I’m spoken for, in case you hadn’t gotten the memo.”


Rozhkov studied her for a moment, then nodded and sat back. He seemed different now. Thoughtful. “I suppose I must tell you the truth, then,” he said. “I am ill, you see. You may ask Glass if you wish confirmation of it.”

Michael unwillingly nodded.

“It is an affliction that strikes old vampires, sometimes. We . . . begin to lose our essence, which is diluted by so much borrowed blood in our veins. We lose touch with who we were, and when that happens, we lose . . . too much. So from time to time, the oldest of us must find one who shares that blood with us, to remind us of who we are.”

Claire, of course, worked it out first. “Wait. You mean you’re related to Eve?”

“Distantly, through many, many generations,” Rozhkov said. “Your great-grandmother Ulyana granted me this favor, once. I only need a single small amount from you. Just enough to reconstruct my own—what do you call it, the chains of life?”

“DNA,” Claire said. “You need Eve’s blood to fix your broken DNA?”

“I suppose that is as good an explanation as any,” he said. “So yes. I could take it by force, of course, but I would prefer not. You are, after all, family.”

Eve stared at him, a frown deepening between her brows. “Family,” she repeated. “Yeah, that’s rich. I kind of loathed my family, you know.”

“All families are full of good and bad. But I ask you, for blood’s sake, to do me this favor. This honor.” He met Michael’s eyes once more. “I ask that it be allowed, just once. I take no more than a taste.”

“It’s Eve’s decision,” Michael said. He wanted to make it for her, but he knew how she’d take that, and he also knew, deep down, that she’d be right to be angry. “Ask her, not me.”

“I have,” Rozhkov said. He returned that unsettling stare to Eve’s face.

She didn’t meet it. She was looking down at her hands. “I don’t know you,” she said. “All I know is that you’re desperate enough, or cruel enough, that you’d threaten the life of an innocent person just to get my attention. If it’s desperation, then maybe I should do this, or you’ll do worse. If it’s the other thing . . .”

“I am cruel,” Rozhkov admitted. “I am old. Not as old or as powerful as Amelie is, true, but I know the world in old ways.” He gave her a sudden, strangely sweet smile. “One would also say I have learned this new world, because I did not resort to violence.”

“Yet,” Shane said.

“Yet, yes.” Rozhkov’s gaze remained steady on Eve. “I do not beg. If you tell me no, I will go. Perhaps I will sicken. Perhaps I will do terrible things as my senses twist in on me. I do not know, as I have never let my—debility grow so strong. But is your decision, as Michael said.”

Eve’s shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Hell.” She suddenly lifted her wrist and held it out to him, and her eyes squeezed tightly shut in anticipation. Her whole body was clenched, rebelling against the decision, and Michael knew he looked just the same—felt just the same. He wanted, with every cell of his being, to pull her away from Rozhkov, get her safe from him . . . and it took every single ounce of will he possessed to hold still as the other vampire raised Eve’s arm, then parted his lips, and the fangs came out.

“Mike?” Shane’s voice was sharp with tension, and his friend was practically vibrating with eagerness to get into it. Claire was quiet, but she was looking at him, too, from the other side. If he lost it, they’d go with him.

It’s Eve’s decision. Eve’s decision. The mantra beat in his temples like a hammer, loud and just as painful, and he almost lost control as he saw the pain sheet across her expression as Rozhkov bit down. No no no no no . . .

And then it was over. He was true to his word. A single quiet mouthful, and then Rozhkov pressed a pale hand over the wound, sealing it. Eve pulled free and clamped her own hand over the bite mark. It wouldn’t bleed much, Michael knew. Part of the vampire’s bite was a healing agent that flooded the wound as the fangs withdrew. He smelled the blood, but not for long.

Rozhkov closed his blue eyes and slumped against the cushions of the sofa. The relief on his face was as intense as suffering. “Thank you, devushka. I am in your debt. In return, I will make you a promise. Never will I threaten you or those near you again. And should you need me, you may call upon me for a favor, yes?”

He got up and walked toward the door, but Shane stood in his way. From the hard set of his face and ready stance, he was still ready to fight if he had to.

“Shane,” Eve said faintly. “Let him go.”

Michael nodded. Shane didn’t like it, but he backed off.