Blood Type: Book One of the Blood Type Series (complete)

Unintended Consequences

John closed the door and leaned forward, his forehead pressed against the dark wood. Anger radiated from him like a searing heat, a rage held closely in check. I knew that anger was directed at me. At last, he stalked off toward the kitchen, leaving me alone.

Ian was on the run. Again. While he alone was responsible for his actions, I'd inadvertently put John in danger by seeking the help of another vampire. When Josiah Butler discovered that John had been harboring a criminal, there would be consequences to pay. Still, I had half a mind to walk out the front door and never look back. My hand gripped the doorknob so tightly with indecision that my knuckles gleamed bone-white under the thin, almost translucent skin of my hand. And yet I couldn't leave John alone to clean up the mess I'd had a part in creating, no matter what I thought Ian deserved. The little leech was right; I still cared about him.

Resolved, I squared my shoulders and went after John. I found him standing with his back pressed against the counter, head bowed, with a glass of blood-red liquid in his hand. I didn't have to ask what the glass contained. He didn't look up as I entered the room, but he didn't turn away. Pulling out a chair with a scrape of legs that seemed much too loud for the solemnity of the moment, I sat down and folded my hands in my lap.

"I want you to turn me," I said when it became evident John wasn't going to speak first.

He raised the glass to his mouth and drained the contents before turning to rinse it in the sink with seemingly deliberate care. "Why?" he said, a hard edge to his voice.

I wasn't prepared for him to ask questions, and I floundered for a response. "Because I was wrong, John. Because I don't want to die. And if I have to become a. . . what you are to survive, I'll do it."

John shook his head and issued a small grunt that I couldn't decipher. "You can't even say the word. Are you sure you don't want me to change you just to ease your guilty conscience?"

I refused to let him bait me into an argument. "I do feel guilty," I said. "I understand now what you and Ian mean to each other. I feel guilty for coming between you and jeopardizing your relationship, and I feel guilty for the trouble I've brought on you which," I pointed out, "I never meant to do."

I stood and approached John from behind. Slowly, I reached out my hand to touch his back. When he didn't protest, I wrapped my arms around his waist, lowering my head so that my cheek lay flush against the sharp slope of his shoulder. "You were right when you said I need you, John."

He covered my hands with his and exhaled. Then he turned to hold me against his chest, his fingers tangling in my hair. After a moment, he pulled back and touched my chin with the tip of his index finger, raising my face to his. I closed my eyes in anticipation of his kiss, my body yearning for what we once had.

"How can I trust you anymore?"

My eyes flew open at his words. I tried to take a step back, but he held me firmly in place, his arms locked around me in a mocking embrace. "You have the audacity to speak to me about trust?" I said, struggling against him. "You were the one who didn't tell me about Ian, remember?"

"I didn't know there was a warrant out for his arrest," John said. "I thought he would leave after a few days and you and I could go on with our lives. I was going to tell you about me, in time and on my own terms."

He released me abruptly and I lost my balance, taking an involuntary step back. "But you," he said, with a look of true despair on his face. "You knowingly sought out another vampire with the intention of betraying Ian to the authorities. You hurt me, Blake. On purpose."

My palms were ice-cold and slick with sweat. "I never meant to hurt you, John."

"But you meant to hurt Ian."