JANE’S POV

I filled my belly near bursting. I can’t remember ever having food so delicious. I sighed and smiled with utter satisfaction.

Finally, I looked up at the pair watching me eat and said to the woman, “Hello, I’m Jane Brown.”

Emma’s dimpled smile was gorgeous, and her green eyes sparkled as she came around the island to hug me, “And I’m Emma Jones. You can call me Emma.”

She squeezed me a bit too tightly until I yelped.

“I’m so sorry, Jane. It’s been a while since we had a human in the house and, you know, vampires sometimes don’t know their own strength. I must remember that you’re softer and more fragile than me. Please don’t be afraid. I wouldn’t ever hurt you.”

I giggled at her chatter, and she stopped, looking a bit sheepish.

“It’s nice to meet you, Emma,” I responded sincerely with a smile, “Thank you for the food. You’re an amazing chef.”

Emma dimpled at me again, pleased as she could be, “Chef! My goodness, what a little flatterer you are. I’m just the housekeeper.”

I looked over at Gabriel in wonder. How did she not know he constantly gazed at her with those adoring eyes? Before Tristan, if such a gorgeous man had ever looked at me like that, I’d be pregnant.

Gabriel laughed heartily, obviously hearing my thoughts.

I grinned at him, not minding that he was listening to them. It was comforting, in a way, and made me feel less lonely. I imagined this must be what it felt like to have a wolf you could converse with secretly without others knowing. And somehow, too, I trusted Gabriel. I didn’t understand why - there had been enough reasons in my life never to trust anyone again - but something about him made me feel safe and at home. Moreover, he seemed to understand my thoughts weren’t seriously lusty since no true desire lay behind them.

Emma looked back and forth between us for a moment, then rolled her eyes good naturedly and began cleaning the kitchen. She put all the leftover food into glass bowls and containers, covered them, and placed them in the refrigerator.

“Help yourself whenever you’re hungry, Jane. I’ve stocked all the cabinets and the fridge with food. I don’t know what you like, but we’ll just learn about each other together over time, hmmm?”

I cleared my throat and began, “Thank you, Emma...but...I should tell you that I don’t really have any place to go, and I don’t expect to be a charity case.”

Emma smiled, “And neither will you be one. You and Gabriel head off to his study now that you’ve eaten, and he can discuss this all with you there.”

She shooed us out of the kitchen as she started washing dishes. I caught a glimpse of the miraculous speed with which she was scrubbing them before being pulled by the hand down the hall.

Gabriel led me like a small child until we came to a spectacular heavy wooden door with ornate carvings from top to bottom.

He swung the door open and brought me to one of two armchairs arranged before a glowing fireplace. After gesturing for me to sit and placing a warm blanket over my legs, he took the other chair facing me.

“We can agree to a mutually beneficial arrangement if you are amenable,” he began.

“You vant to drink my blood?” I joked in my best Dracula accent.

He responded with playful sarcasm, “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“I vaguely remember hearing some of the older ladies in the kitchens talking about vampires once and calling someone a feeder. Is that what you’re referring to?”

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Gabriel nodded at me, “That’s right. It’s typically a lifetime contract between a vampire and a human. But since I know your situation, I could provide a clause making it possible to cancel the contract upon bonding with your true mate, if you prefer.”

“Do you know the Martins?” I asked curiously.

His clear gaze carried more than his reply, “Yes, I do.”

I stared at him for a while, thinking it through. I didn’t bother trying to put up a wall since I knew he could hear me.

There is nowhere else for me to go. I have no money or even clothing. This house is comfortable and able to meet my needs. I’d probably be safe here since Gabriel wouldn’t be likely to put his feeder in any danger. I wonder if it hurts.

“I can trick your brain into thinking that it doesn’t, so in the end, it won’t,” he answered aloud.

Thinking of the supernatural romance novels I’d been reading since I was thirteen, another question popped into my head. I really wish I had controlled the imagery better as my mind produced a picture of us embracing in a sensual situation with him biting down on my neck like a wolf lover.

His eyes widened only a tiny fraction at the picture, but he said nothing as my cheeks burned scarlet red with my embarrassment.

“I’ve read a lot of novels,” I finally admitted shyly.

He replied to ease my mind, “You aren’t wrong in that it happens that way sometimes, but to me, you are a lost child who could use my care and provide a needed benefit. I wouldn’t inject you with my aphrodisiac venom, but instead, use a mild form of mind control to lead your brain away from the pain response. This method is easily done for me because of my particular abilities involving the mind.”

“Where would you...how would you?” I cleared my throat nervously.

In the blink of an eye, he was on one knee beside my chair raising my wrist to his lips. His fangs gently touched my flesh just below the palm of my hand, and he made eye contact with me a moment before dropping my arm and returning to his chair.

My eyelids fluttered open and shut a few times, as my brain caught up to the sudden movements.

“Are there any side effects?” I inquired curiously.

“I would only take a pint at a time, the equivalent of a blood bank donation. You would feel a little tired afterward. You will have to drink my blood, as well, if I need you to recuperate faster to feed often.”

I nodded, and he continued, “Additionally, there will be some side effects to the mind control. You will feel attached to me after repeated exposure to my tampering with your pain responses. Something equivalent to a caffeine addiction. It’s mild in some and stronger in others. There’s often an emotional attachment, too.”

Gabriel continued, “It would be helpful for you to consider me an uncle or a father figure to direct your affections in a wholesome and platonic way. I don’t have any concerns that you’ll develop a serious attraction since you’ve already found your true mate and will be able to tell the difference between a real connection and an artificial one.”

I nodded as I pondered the information. Finally, I asked, “We wouldn’t be able to have a real connection? Like a friendship? Do you get attached to your feeders?”

“I’m capable of that, yes. Not every vampire is, but I don’t live much in the company of others because I prefer to practice and honor many human ways. I was born human, after all.”

“A dedicated feeder is not essential to survival in an age of blood bags, but most vampires prefer to drink directly from the vein. It is a pleasant experience for us to do so. It’s like the difference between a warm drink on a cold day and a cold drink on a cold day; a matter of personal preference.”

He continued, “My last feeder was with me for sixty years, and I loved him like a son. I would have kept him longer if he hadn’t decided it was time for him to leave this world. He passed due to an illness.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said.

He acknowledged my words with a nod.

I asked the final question floating around in my mind, “Won’t I become a vampire if we feed from each other?”

“That’s a common belief, but vampires have several kinds of venom that they can choose to release in a controlled fashion. Venoms such as aphrodisiac, poison, turning, and even no venom at all.”

I felt satisfied with his answers and asked, “How do we form the contract?”

“We can do a verbal or a written contract if you prefer. I have a safe where I can store it,” He gestured to the wall behind his desk.

“Alright, I agree. It seems like the best option for me to keep my promise to Tristan. But I want to get a message to him to let him know that I’m safe,” I bargained.

“That’s easily done. I’m well known to the Martins,” he assured.

“Thank you. Let’s do a written contract so that I can be clear on what your expectations are of me,” I knew he would be able to feel my sincerity and good intentions.

“Let’s move to my desk, and we’ll write it up at once.”

I followed him there, and we spent the next couple of hours sharing our expectations and wishes.

We agreed to take some time to read what we had drawn up and think over the details and if we would like to add any further requirements or stipulations. We would revisit in five days.

For now, Gabriel encouraged me to explore his estate and rest to recover from my experience more fully. He offered me the use of his enormous library, music room, and art studio, and I couldn’t wait to start my adventures in the arts.