I took Edgar to his room and helped him into bed. He threw the towel on the floor as he collapsed under the sheet I held up. The moment his head hit the pillow, his eyes closed, and his heartbeat slowed more. I raced downstairs to get the food from the kitchen and find the bottle of blood. I located the bottle beside the couch. I held it up and peered at the level of blood in it—he'd had about two-thirds of it, which wouldn't be enough. I doubted I'd be able to get him to feed from me, so I fetched the small funnel from the kitchen and stuck it in the neck of the bottle. A quick stab of my thumbnail into my wrist, and my blood trickled into the bottle and began to fill it.

When I went back to Edgar, he was semi-conscious, but he opened his eyes and looked at me. I sat on the edge of the bed and helped him sit up. "Think you can drink some more of this?" I offered him the bottle.

"No. No way."

"You need it. That's why you feel the way you do."

"I'll just eat that." He eyed the plate of food I'd placed on the cupboard beside the bed.

"It'll stop you feeling hungry, but it won't take away the weakness."

Edgar groaned and turned his face away. "I can't."

"Would you rather take it from me?"

"What?" He turned horrified eyes on me. "No! Are you crazy?"

"You had it before," I reminded him.

"I thought it was wine!"

I cocked an eyebrow. "And I'm guessing you won't take it from a human."

He gave me a look that told me I was a fucking idiot.

"Edgar, if you don't feed, you won't be able to get out of this bed. You'll get weaker and weaker. You won't die, but you won't be able to move much, and your throat and chest will hurt. The longing for it will hurt. Just try." I took the cap off the bottle and let him smell the contents. His nostrils flared and his brown eyes paled and turned gold, then yellow.

"I'll be sick."

"You won't, I promise."

He glanced at the bottle. "There's more in it that before."

"I filled it up." I showed him the small red mark on my wrist.

"Doesn't that make you weak?"

"Not for such a small amount."

He lifted his gaze to mine. "I really screwed myself over, didn't I?"

"It was an accident."

"One I'm stuck with forever. Do we live forever?"

"I suppose. Max was over two hundred years old."

"Shit." Edgar's nostrils flared again, and he licked his lips. "I've always hated fucking vampires."

"I know."

"You won't leave me like this, will you?"

"I'm never gonna leave you." I lifted the bottle so it was closer to his nose. He gulped, swallowing the saliva that would have pooled in his mouth. "Try it," I repeated. "You'll feel better."

He raised his hand to take the bottle from me, but it shook with weakness and he let it fall back into his lap. I lifted the bottle to his mouth and tilted it just enough for the still-warm fluid to touch his lips. His tongue emerged and after one taste, he opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around the neck of the bottle. I held it until he'd gulped about a quarter of the contents, and his strength returned enough to take it from me. He drank half the bottle, then lowered it.

"It's sweet," he said in surprise.

"Yeah. Do you feel better?"

"Stronger." He grimaced and shivered. "Sick. I just drank your fucking blood."

"It's hard to get your head around at first."

"Was it hard for you?"

"Yes, even though I asked for it. The concept of drinking someone's blood creeped me out, but I got over it. The first few times I had to steal myself to do it, but then it just seemed natural to me."

"I can't imagine that ever happening to me. I could never kill someone."

"You don't have to worry about that yet."

"What, you're just gonna drain your blood out every day for me?"

"You won't need it every day after the first few days, but yes, if that's what you want."

"I don't want any of this. It's like a fucking drug." He began to drink again, tilting the bottle more as he drained it, his throat moving vigorously as he gulped it down. When it was empty, he gave it back to me and shuffled around awkwardly, his face a picture of embarrassment. I could smell his arousal and I couldn't help a small smirk.

"Feel better?" I teased.

"Fuck off. Is this normal?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you fuck so many people?"

I sighed. "There haven't been that many. It probably just seems that way. I don't want to fuck around all the time. I want someone I can be with; who'll stay with me. Finding them isn't easy when you only have humans to pick from. Most of them freak out when they find out what you are. It's not easy to be with a human long-term either."

"I've been around for two years," Edgar reminded me.

"Yeah, and sometimes it's been difficult for me, but I could control it. If this hadn't happened, I never would have bitten you."

"I suppose it's easier for Michael and Star, then, being the same."

"They struggle. They won't kill and it hurts them."

"Do you feed them?"

I shook my head. "They feed from animals when it gets too difficult."

"They can do that?"

"Yeah. It stops the discomfort, but that's all. There's no pleasure in it. It's like—" I tried to think of an example. "—Someone who loves steak eating oatmeal with no salt or sugar in it instead."

Edgar wrinkled his nose. "I sometimes wonder if I'll ever be with anyone."

"You will. When you find someone you want."

His pulse sped up and he avoided my eyes. "Maybe I have, but I doubt they'll want me."

I remembered what Dwayne said to me, and what Edgar had said on his seventeenth birthday. I knew he meant me and although I had no intention of doing anything while he was in such a fragile state, I decided to let him know he wasn't wishing for the impossible. I placed one finger under his chin and lifted his head, making him look at me.

"Trust me, they do. They just don't want to rush things. You're still seventeen."

Edgar's eyes, now brown again, warmed, and his lips twitched. "You always bring it back to my age. I'm not a fucking child, David. I know what I want."

"Then we'll take it slow." As much as I wanted to kiss him at that moment, I drew back. He was naked and aroused under that sheet, and I only had so much control. There was plenty of time. "Eat the pasta."

"You're a fucking tease, you know that?" he growled, but he picked up the plate and began to eat.

I took the plate from Edgar when he finished eating and went down to the kitchen to give him a few minutes to himself. I made myself some coffee and Edgar joined me as I was finishing it. He was fully dressed, including boots. "Can we got out and do something?"

"Sure. What do you have in mind?" I hadn't expected him to be enthusiastic about anything. It was hardly any time since he'd tried to kill himself and repeatedly said he didn't want to be what he now was. I wondered if my admission that I wanted him helped. I doubted it would all be plain sailing from now on—he'd struggle with it and when he woke up desperate to feed, he'd probably fight it again, but I meant to make the most of the present.

"A ride on your bike?"

"Okay. Let's go."

I rode south along the coast road, my bike headlight picking out the way in front of me, and Edgar wrapped around me, arms around my waist, thighs against mine, chin on my shoulder. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face, despite my guilt over what had happened to him. If I could live in this moment for a few hours, I could deal with whatever difficulties came later.

After an hour or so, I parked at a viewing point where we could watch waves crashing up onto the beach, broken by a few rocks and boulders. A couple of intrepid surfers risked their lives to conquer the rough waters, and we sat on an outcrop between the road and the sand to watch.

Edgar's heart pounded rapidly, the sound like a drumbeat in my head. The scent of his blood and mine combined made my mouth water, and in the end, I couldn't stop myself. I slid my arm around him and turned him towards me. His lips parted as he looked up at me, giving me an invitation. I leaned in closer, allowed my lips to touch his lightly and drew back. He lifted his hand to my neck and pulled me in again. I covered his mouth with mine, our lips sliding together, a perfect fit. His mouth tasted like heaven, warm, soft, wet, and him. I held back on deepening it, until his tongue emerged, seeking mine, then I plunged in, exploring and savouring in a way I'd never done before. His blood raced through his veins, the scent tantalising, ramping up my arousal until my pants crushed my dick. I could smell Edgar's excitement, matching mine as he clung to me and kissed me back like I knew he'd never done either. His first and my first. I could have gone on kissing him all night until the sun rose and burned me to a crisp.

I lost track of how long we sat there, pausing only for him to catch his breath now and then. My dick ached with longing, and I waged a constant battle with my fangs, keeping them retracted when I wanted nothing more than to pull my lips from Edgar's and press them into his neck. But then I felt a sharp scratch on my tongue, and my own blood filled my mouth. Edgar's tongue swept over mine and he moaned in pleasure as he got the taste of me direct from the source rather than diluted by being drained out into a bottle and cooled. Every second that passed, I expected him to jerk away in horror, but he clung to me, pressing his body harder against mine, groaning and whimpering, driving me into a helpless frenzy. I wanted him so badly every fibre in my body ached for it. Then everything stopped and he pulled away, cringing with embarrassment. He came in his pants and the smell of it almost tipped me over the edge. I suppressed my urges with difficulty and took his hand.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Didn't mean to bite you."

"That's something that will happen when you're… excited. You can learn to control it with time, but you don't have to worry about that with me."

He pulled his hand free and rubbed it over his face, avoiding looking at me. "I, um, I—"

"That's normal too. When you bite, the taste is more intense than from a bottle."

"So, you get horny every time you kill someone?" Edgar blurted.

"A lot of the time. It's a hell of a lot more intense if you bite a lover."

"That's weird and creepy." He got up and paced about.

"You didn't read that in any of your comics, huh?"

"Don't joke about it."

"Hey." I waited until he looked at me. "Are you upset about what happened? I don't mean biting me, I mean, that you came."

"Fuck." He turned his face away. "No. Not in the way you mean. I don't feel under pressure or anything like that. I trust you."

"Good. I'm not going to do anything you don't want. The other stuff, you'll get used to. I know it feels weird."

Edgar sat down again. "I'm sorry I fucked up."

"What do you mean?"

"Not this. You did so much for me, and I fucked up at school and got suspended, then skipped my exams."

"We can figure that out. There's probably a way you can take them."

"What's the point?"

"The point is, you have a very long life ahead of you. If you get the exams, you could home-study for a university degree, or get a job. Whatever you want. There are about a million things you can do without actually going to work nine to five."

"You don't," he reminded me.

"No, I don't, but you're a better person than I am. You know where my money comes from?"

"What Max left?"

"Well, yes, to start with, but that's long gone now. We all do the same thing, except for Michael and Star."

He frowned, thinking, then sighed. "Your victims?"

"Yeah. You know Michael does that wood-carving thing and Star sews for people. She did a course for that before she joined us. It's just an idea. If there's something you want to do, you can still do it. You don't have to give up on everything you wanted before. But regardless of what happens, I'll always take care of you."

Edgar nodded. "I'll think about it. Thanks."

"We'd better get back. It'll be dawn soon."

"But we just got here, like, an hour ago." He looked up at the sky, which was a little lighter in the east.

"We've been here all night. Time got away from us." I jumped up and led him back to my bike. "I need to be under cover when the sun rises, and we both need to sleep."