Page 54 of Liberty

The moment the mug of warm blood touched the table, Oak turned to Liberty. “Drink.”

She looked at the cup in front of her like it was a five-headed dinosaur. She took the handle and pulled it forward before bringing it to her nose and sniffing. She made a look of utter disgust. “It doesn’t smell good.”

I grabbed the cup and sniffed. “It smells like blood.”

“Not like Oak’s blood. His smells like cinnamon and strength.” She leaned toward Oak.

“Strength doesn’t have a smell,” Sterling pointed out.

“It does. It smells like Oak,” she insisted.

“Drink it, Liberty.” Oak ignored her assessment of himself in favor of making a point that she didn’t need blood.

She picked up the mug and, with a disgusted face, tipped it back and took a giant swallow of the warm blood. Five seconds later, she was retching over the sink as if we’d fed her poison instead of a life force. The smug look on Oak’s face told me he knew she would react that way. When she was done, she found her seat again, her arms crossed in annoyance.

“I told you it smelled disgusting,” she stated.

“I told you, you didn’t need blood,” Oak replied.

Liberty inhaled deeply and closed her eyes before turning to Oak, grabbing his bloodied finger and sticking it in her mouth. Her whole body racked with a shiver as she not only licked the blood that was already on his finger but sucked at his wound in hopes of more. She moaned, and that sound alone made everyone in the room hard and ready.

What the fuck was going on here?

As if Sterling was reading my thoughts, he whispered, “Like we needed more on our fucking plate right now.”

Liberty’s eyes opened, glowing with an intensity that made the surrounding air pulse. She released his finger, and he watched in shock, the lust over what just happened he hadn’t even tried to hide. She looked toward Sterling and me. “I want to taste you.”

We both held out our hands at once, not willing to argue now that she looked like she was in heaven. She grabbed my hand first, biting into my finger with – “She fucking has fangs too.”

“How the fuck did this happen? None of us turned her.” Oak tried to reason, but the feel of her light pulls against my skin had my body’s wirings going crazy with lust, want, need.

Her lips popped off my skin, and she licked the bit of blood off them. “Like pancakes, apples, and sadness.”

Um, sadness? I didn’t think so. But the more I let myself think and the more my mind cleared, she wasn’t wrong about it, either. I instead focused on the things that could be explained. “Apple pies and pancakes?”

“Yes. When I think of you, I think of breakfast around the table, and somehow, your blood tastes as such. Apple pie is home. You remind me of home. Not a place, but a feeling.” She grabbed my shirt and pulled me forward, giving me a soft kiss before whispering, “I think you could be a good home.”

Jesus. What was she trying to do to us?

Her fingers loosened, her grip falling from my shirt before her eyes sought Sterling’s. The heat between them was nearly suffocating, blanketing the room as she stepped toward him and grabbed his shirt. She rose on her toes and leaned into him. Burying her nose at the crook of his neck and inhaling with a moan. He flinched, his eyes wide, before his arm banded around her waist tightly, his breathing ragged as he bit his lower lip.

She pulled away, licking the blood welling on his neck. “Coffee, cookies, pain.”

Why was seeing Sterling’s blood dripping down her lips so fucking hot? We all stared in shock, not sure what we could say. One minute she’s drinking coffee, the next she’s drinking us like she’s fucking starved and – and – and I’d never seen anything so damn enticing as Liberty was right that moment.

Oak ducked his head and cleared his throat. “So, this is new.”

You don’t fucking say.

Liberty wrung her hands in front of her. “Is this bad?”

“It’s different,” I offered.

“Bad different?”

“Unknown different.” Oak sighed. “Look, you shouldn’t need a vampire’s blood, that’s not how this whole thing works.”

“Your blood shouldn’t be supercharged and make us glow, either,” I added.

“Or heal at an incredible pace,” Sterling interjected.

“So what you’re saying is . . .” She let the question trail off.

“What we’re saying is this is unknown, mo chuisle. Uncharted territory that we have no clue how to navigate.” Oak reached for her hand and pulled her toward him. “But we will navigate it. Together.”