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“It was a feast, was it not?” And something in the way he said it made me blush. “I do not mean to embarrass you, ma petite, but it was glorious. I have not shared Asher’s gift in over two hundred years. I had almost made myself forget what it was like.”

“So you can’t do this without Belle Morte.”

“One of her gifts is to be a bridge, a connection, between her children. That allowed the sharing of gifts.”

“I cast her out, Jean-Claude, it won’t be happening again.”

“And we are both thrilled. I do not think you understand the risk we all took, ma petite. If you had failed to cast her out, then she could have done things to us, even from such a distance. We are the only two of her line that ever left her side willingly. Some were exiled, but none simply left, and she is not a woman that takes rejection well.”

That was an understatement. “She saw Asher through my eyes. I felt her regret that she’d let him go, that she hadn’t seen him the way I did.”

He turned his head to one side. “Then perhaps even a very old dog can learn new tricks.”

I swallowed, and something about it made me very aware of the taste of blood and other things in my mouth. I had to get cleaned up.

I went to the sink and watched him in the mirror behind me. I’d known I was nude, but it wasn’t until I saw myself in the mirror that I really noticed it. I’d managed to wipe most of the blood off my mouth with toilet paper, but it was still clinging to my chest and my neck. “I really need a robe of my own,” I said.

“I would offer you mine,” he said.

I shook my head, reaching for the toothbrush. Normally, I would have washed the blood off first, but I wanted that taste out of my mouth more. “You naked around me right now is not what I need.”

“I will send . . .” he hesitated, “Asher for a robe for you.”

“You started to say Jason, didn’t you?”

He looked at me in the mirror.

“I know he’ll heal, but . . . I could have really hurt him,” I said.

“But you didn’t, and that is what matters.”

“Pretty to think so,” I said.

He smiled, but not like he was happy. “I will send Asher for a robe.”

“Great. Thank you.”

I squeezed toothpaste onto the brush as he went for the door. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Normally you would owe your pomme de sangs some gift or show of gratitude for serving you.”

“I think they’ve had all the gratitude they’re getting from me for one day.”

He laughed, and the sound rode over my body like a caress of silk. “Oh, yes, ma petite, and I think they would agree, but I tell you this for later. You must reward your pomme de sang for his, or her, services.”

“Money wouldn’t do it?” I asked.

The look on his face said he was truly insulted, outraged, in fact. “You have just shared something more intimate than most people will ever know with another being. They have given us a great gift this day, and they are not whores, Anita.” My real name, I was in trouble. “They are pomme de sangs, think of them as beloved mistresses.”

I frowned at him.

“Today the sharing of pleasure was reward enough, but you will need to feed the ardeur every day, and unless it is a feeding worthy of the thirst, more than once a day for a few weeks.”

“What are you saying?” I asked.

“I am saying that it would be best if you chose a pomme de sang and kept him near you, for you do not truly know yet what your hunger is like. It may be a light thing, easily tended, or it may not.”

“You’re saying I’ll need to do this every day?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.”

He shook his head. “Was today so horrible, ma petite? Was the pleasure you gained so very small?”

“It’s not that. It was glorious, and you know it. But we’ll never be able to duplicate that, not without Belle Morte, and I don’t want a return visit from her.”

“Nor do I. But there are many things that can be done to feed, and when you have some control I will teach you to feed from a distance.”

“When?”

“A few weeks.”

“Shit.” I turned back to the mirror, not looking at him. “How do I pick a pomme de sang?”

“I think you