"Because I'm warming up my dinner," Kris snickered as she stoked the fire. "Just habit, I guess. I've always loved sitting by the fire and watching the flames. It is so … comforting."
When she was done she turned and looked at the boy on the couch again, but he wasn't a boy. He was probably in his late 20s from her estimation, and he was gorgeous. He had thick black hair, a bright smile and the eyes the color of sea foam. "Damn, why are all Swedish guys so hot?"
"Why, thank you," Eric slurred.
"I wasn't referring to you," she retorted. "He's kinda old, Pam. Is he for me or you?"
"You will like this one," she said as she sat on the arm rest of the chair by Eric. "His blood is delectable."
"Can I have this one?"
"Yes. I just said—"
"No. I meant can I have him?" When she didn't answer she looked at Pam, who was staring at her in disbelief. "What? I told you I'm not a virgin. It's just I'm so …"
"I thought you'd want to be with … someone your own age. You need to gain control of your feeding before you do."
Kris grumbled. "Alright. I get it." She kneeled on the couch, one foot on the floor beside the man.
"I'm Malte," he said, his accent was incredibly thick, and she wasn't sure if she caught his name right.
"Shit. You know English, too," she said disappointed.
"No. That's all he knows," Pam answered. "After last night with Lucas I didn't think it wise to have someone know what's going on, until we know, at least."
"You could have just glamoured him," Kris pointed out.
"We keep that as a last resort," Eric replied.
Kris turned back to the boy and looked at his neck. She was famished, even hungrier than she was when she woke up the night before. Her fangs descended and she said, "Pam, remember, I think I get when to stop like last night. But just keep talking to me like you did."
"I will."
Kris buried her lips against Malte's neck and smelled his scent. It was clean and fresh, like a comforting, warm towel just out of the dryer. She heard his blood coursing through his veins, the whooshing beat drowning out every noise in the room. Putting her left hand on his shoulder, she sank her fangs into his neck. He tilted his head to the right to allow her more access. Malte moaned softly as his blood flowed and Kris gulped his blood, her lips adding pressure to keep the flow going. For the first time she noticed her chest and throat humming, her chest vibrating along with it.
He groaned again, but that time there was pleading in that one sound that compelled her to stop and lean back. His eyes were still open but they appeared a little glazed over; his arms hung loosely at his side.
"Jag är okej. Du fick inte ta för mycket," he whispered, a small yet weak smile spread over his lips.
"What did he say?" she asked Pam as she sat back.
"He said he's alright. You didn't take too much," Eric answered.
"I asked Pam, Eric," she told him sarcastically then used her own blood to heal his puncture wounds.
Pam said to Malte, "Koppla av. Malte. Försök att sova om du kan." He closed his eyes and melted into the couch. Turning to Kris, she said, "Kris, Eric is … was my Maker. You will no longer disrespect him, nor will you talk back to him. Do you understand me?" She nodded.
"She might understand, but she won't listen," Eric retorted.
"And you, Mr. Northman, will no longer sass my niece." She wasn't sure how far she could push Eric, but she had to at least try. "Kris, didn't you hear me?"
Wiping the blood from her mouth and chin onto her sweater, she said, "No." She licked the back of her hand and her wrist clean of the human's blood. "Pam, I was purring again, wasn't I?"
"Yes, you were. You were also kneading his thigh like a kitten nursing."
She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Why can't I be one or the other? Let me be a vampire separate from the damned saber."
"Kris," Eric said; his voice was soft. "I was born a Viking, and I remain a Viking. It is who I am, just as your saber is who you are."
That made sense to her, even though it came from Eric. "Can I … go lay down for a bit? I'm a little … sleepy."
Pam appeared alarmed, and Eric sat at her feet. "Give me your wrist," he said. She didn't. "Pam, I need to find out something."
"Go ahead."
He grabbed her wrist, twisted it a little roughly, though not intentionally, only to get the pad of his thumb on the vein. Looking up at her, he asked, "When you were feeding, did you notice your heart beating as well as your purring?"
She thought it over. "Maybe, once or twice, more than once or twice," she said more resolutely.
"What does that mean, Eric?" Pam asked.
He stood and stoked the fire, though it didn't need to be done. "One: She changes the morning of the full moon, during the day and needs human food. Two: She has a heartbeat, but we need to determine if it's constant or only when she feeds, even if it's a beat or two a minute, and during sleep. Three: She needs a day of rest after the change."
"I need a cat nap," Kris snickered then curled up into a ball, threw the blanket over her and closed her eyes. "At least it's a start."
"Indeed it is," Pam agreed as she went to Kris and ran her fingers through her hair.
"Hmm," Kris mumbled. "I remember Mom doing that to me when I was a child. God, I can't believe I forgot that." She immediately began to purr.
"Go on to sleep, honey. We still have shopping to do."
Kris smiled and fell to sleep.
Softly from the couch, Malte said, "Jag vet vad hon ar." Both Pam and Eric's eyes lit up and glared at him in astonishment. "Jag kan hjälpa henne. Min far far är sabel."
"Berätta allt du vet om sablar," Eric demanded.
Eric stood outside his cabin waiting for Pam to return from taking Malte back home. He couldn't risk Kris overhearing them talking about what Malte had said about the saber side of his family. Before he left, he promised to speak with his grandfather to see if he'd agree to meet with them to get some more answers.
Pam appeared in the snow beside Eric carrying several large paper bags in one hand, in the other were two blood bags. She handed him one. "Malte's sister works at Sahlgrenska University Hospital. Malte gave these to us. He felt bad he couldn't feed us, too." Both vampires emptied the bags quickly. "So, what do you think?" she asked, half-emptying the blood bag.
"I'm not sure yet. But you are right. She should not be out in the public."
"The more we know the less I want to know."
"Do you think she'll go?" he asked hesitantly.
"I haven't gotten that far in my head yet, Eric. Boarding school would be good for her, to be around other vampire-sabers. But I'm not ready—"
Eric silenced her by putting his hand on her forearm. "It's never easy to let go of someone you love, Pamela. But she'll still be your child."
The look in his eyes killed Pam. "Am I still your child, Eric?"
He smiled warmly, pulled her gently to him and kissed her forehead. "You will always be my child."
The front door creaked open and Kris stuck her head out. "Oh, god. Well, at least you two aren't doing it in front of me. Hurry it up. I need to get out of here." The door closed again.
"She's a funny child. You should keep her."
"For as long as I can, Eric. For as long as I can."