"Since Theo is gone, the companions have been asked to provide blood meals for you until a replacement can be found." Her voice stumbled over the word “gone”, and her eyes moved around the room as if searching for a place to alight. One that would shield her from the implication of that word.
"Ah." I didn't know what else to say as I stared at her, nonplussed. After a long moment where I tried to frame my refusal in polite terms—ones meant to cause little offense even though the offer repulsed me—I settled on saying, "I thought you already had a long-term companion. I was under the impression you only provide blood to that vampire."
Her smile was troubled and didn't reach her eyes. "That's correct, but we have no other uncommitted companions. We were asked to draw lots to see who would provide for your needs."
A laugh escaped me. "Draw lots? Am I so repulsive?"
She didn't answer, her eyes dropping to her feet.
"Ah, guess that answers that." I popped the top of the blood bag, pouring it into the glass. Good to know the companions were so scared of me they needed a lottery to determine who got the duty of feeding me.
"It's just that all of us were close with Theo. He was well liked here," she said, looking uncomfortable.
The blood pouring into the glass paused as I hesitated. "And you blame me for his death."
She flinched and jolted back a step. "No."
"I suspect as a companion you know vampires have heightened senses and can tell when the human body reacts with indicators of a lie," I said in a conversational tone. We could hear when a heartbeat sped up, the slight rasp of an inhale and see the beads of sweat that were all signs someone was uncomfortable. It could sometimes be used to discover lies. Not every time. I suspected a sociopath would be able to fool the enhanced senses, but Sheila didn't fall into that category.
Her stricken expression told me she did know that. She fell quiet, her big eyes watching me as if I was a snake about to strike. I sighed. Way to go, Aileen. You've terrified the poor girl into a stupor. I became more and more the vampire every day.
"It's fine, Sheila. I understand. You can go."
She jolted, betraying her wishes by glancing at the door. "But, I'm supposed to provide blood."
I gave her a humorless smile. "Sorry, I don't plan to drink from someone who is visibly afraid of me. You might stab me with a stake by accident."
"Um, that doesn't actually work." Her words were hesitant.
I sighed and closed my eyes, praying for patience. "I know. It’s just an expression. Go."
She looked chastened as she turned to leave. "You should stay away from Deborah. She had a crush on Theo."
"Did she now?" I asked, not really caring.
Sheila nodded. "Not that she had a chance. He and Catherine were never far apart, even after Catherine gained a patron."
That was interesting. I spoke before she could leave. "I thought vampires and their companions had an intimate relationship."
She hesitated by the door, the call of freedom visibly pulling at her. She swallowed the urge in a display of bravery I hadn't thought her capable of. "It can be, but not always. Sometimes it's just a friendship or akin to a parent-child relationship."
Hm.
She waited, fidgeting in place as I stared at her blankly for a long moment before realizing what she wanted. I flicked my hand in dismissal.
I took another long gulp of the blood after she was gone, choking down the stuff and wishing for the days where this actually tasted good. Now, it tasted rancid—like milk three weeks past its expiration date. At least it would keep me fed for another night.
The visit with Sheila had unnerved me more than I wanted to admit. It wasn't only the enforcers who saw me as being partially responsible for the deaths last night. Seemed the companions felt the same way. It added to the guilt and sense of wrongness that I was already dealing with.
I sighed, setting the glass on the counter. It was only half drunk, but I couldn't force any more of it down. Perhaps in a little bit. Even telling myself that lie didn't work. I put the glass in the fridge to keep it from going bad, just in case.
My elbow bumped into something on the counter as I turned, the book that followed me around like a pet dog lying innocuously face up. I leaned next to it, staring at it with repulsed fascination. I liked books as much as the next person, but it was disturbing when one could just move around under its own power. A witch had told me it was an item of power that did not mean me harm. That could change, and I suspected I would never see it coming.
"Don't suppose you have an answer to my problem?" I asked it, only half joking.
It had provided semi-decent information about the demon taint before. Feeling slightly stupid, I waited a moment but nothing happened. Didn't think so. I turned away, somehow bumping the book and knocking it to the floor, though I could have sworn I was nowhere near it. I squatted next to the open book, frowning at it in consternation. That wasn't creepy or anything.
It'd fallen so it was lying open, face down, practically asking for me to pick it up and see what it had to say. I shook my head, knowing I should just walk away. It had tried this trick before, and until now I'd made a point of ignoring it. Not this time.
"This had better be good," I warned it. "Or I'm going to find a lighter. I'm sure a place like this has a fireplace—or a dozen."
Before I could talk myself out of it, I picked it up and glanced at the text on the page. What I found was unexpected. Instead of something that might help me calm a werewolf, or a weapon that might force an angry one to sleep, the book had a hand-drawn picture of a room. I bent closer. Books. Lots of them.
I recognized that room. I'd been in it during my ill-advised excursion to the supernatural bookstore, and I was pretty sure I'd been lucky to escape with my life and this book.
There was no other text on the page, just the drawing and another page with a picture of the bookstore keeper and an empty spot next to him.
"That's not helpful," I told the book before shutting it and tossing it back on the counter.
I didn’t understand. It had always been semi-helpful in the past. Yes, the information was often vague, but it had at least gotten me pointed in the right direction. That picture must mean something, but I had no idea what.
Not ready to leave the room and chance encountering some of the now unfriendly inhabitants of the mansion, I settled on the couch in the living room section of my suite. Nathan, Liam, or whoever they appointed as my babysitter for the night would be around soon. I was actually slightly surprised they weren't already here.
Maybe they figured little Sheila would keep me occupied for a bit, or perhaps they were enjoying a blood-filled companion of their own. Either way, it left me some breathing room. Fat lot of good that did me.