Bound to the vampire lord
she continued, already readying the needle, “we also need to know how frequently you can be fed on. Some humans can recover in a week, others need longer. It varies. We’ll establish your limits.”
I narrowed my eyes. “So there are others? Like me? Humans you test for this?”
“Yes,” she said gently. “A few. You’ll meet them, in time.”
I sank back slightly. “Great. So I’m basically a walking wine bottle now.”
“You could put it that way.” Her tone was light, but then she added, more seriously, “But you must be special. Sire doesn’t usually keep a personal feeder.”
That word hit me like a rock. “Feeder? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
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