MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Chapter 282: Blood is thicker than wine

Blake and Gunther were still on the rooftop with their gaze wandering over the cityscape and twinkling city lights sprawled out beneath them.

"Wait, so you guys had blood at the house all this while and you three didn't plan to share with me?" Blake blurted out, his eyes widening in disbelief.

Gunther held up a calming hand. "Well, for one, you've been in a terrible mood and you haven't been talking to anyone for a while, so there hasn't been a chance to share it with you," he explained patiently. "And the very day we brought the blood to the safe house was the day you went on a...killing spree."

Blake flinched at Gunther's words. "Shh! Don't say it out loud like that," he hissed, glancing around furtively despite their isolated position on the rooftop.

Gunther arched an eyebrow. "So, do you want the blood or not?"

Blake ran a hand through his disheveled, two-toned locks, considering Gunther's offer. "Okay, if you're actually going to wean me off taking too much blood and control the urge, is it really good for me to be fed this blood?"

Gunther let out a weary sigh. "Well, with the current situation, we have no choice but to give you some to sedate your own hunger." He fixed Blake with an intense look. "You're stronger than you realize, but you need to learn control. The artificial blood can help with that."

Needing no further convincing, Blake gave a resolute nod. The thought of sating his ravenous thirst without causing more unnecessary bloodshed was enough to steel his determination.

"Alright then, let's head back," Gunther declared, rising fluidly to his feet.

The pair descended from the rooftop with an effortless, inhuman grace, landing lightly in the alleyway before making their way back to the quiet residential street where their safe house was located.

As they approached the nondescript two-story home, a stern figure emerged from the shadows of the porch - Nana, hands planted firmly on her hips in a posture of rigid disapproval.

"Where the hell have you two been?" she demanded without preamble. "You left the house without telling me a word, like I don't even matter."

Blake stepped forward, holding up placating hands. "We only went for a quick walk, Nana. No need to worry."

Nana's eyes flashed dangerously. "I hope you both know that when Reggie comes back, I'll inform him you two violated his instructions and stepped out."

An unspoken look passed between Gunther and Blake, a wry smile tugging at the corners of their mouths. Why was she talking about Reggie like he was some high and mighty figure to be feared? It was just a passing thought, one they didn't voice aloud.

Instead, Gunther simply shrugged and brushed past Nana into the house, leaving Blake to follow in his wake.

Once inside Blake's room, Gunther produced a sleek glass bottle filled with a deep crimson liquid - the artificial blood he had mentioned. He poured a generous amount into an ornate goblet before offering it to Blake with a somber air.

Blake accepted the proffered glass, examining the ruby contents with a mixture of trepidation and longing. He could smell the rich, coppery aroma wafting up, making his mouth water. But there was an underlying medicinal tang as well, a faint chemical edge that reminded him this was no ordinary vintage.

Still, his thirst demanded to be sated. Blake brought the glass to his lips and took a cautious sip, bracing himself for the strange taste.

The thick fluid coated his tongue with a heady, intoxicating sweetness that triggered an instant reaction. His pupils blew wide, his fangs descending with a metallic ache as his senses became hyper-attuned. The vampire within him stirred, scenting its long-awaited sustenance.

With a soft groan, Blake drained the glass in several desperate gulps, chasing every last crimson drop. Heat bloomed through his body from his core, radiating outward in tingling waves of euphoria.

When at last the vessel was drained, Blake opened eyes he didn't remember squeezing shut. He found Gunther watching him with an inscrutable look, leaning casually against the wall with his arms folded over his broad chest.

"Easy there, killer," Gunther murmured, his deep timbre laced with a strange mix of wariness and dark amusement. "I would say pace yourself, but I get the feeling your thirst won't allow that luxury."

Blake opened his mouth to protest, but quickly thought better of it. Gunther was right - now that he had that first tantalizing taste, his hunger screamed to be fully satiated, consequences be damned. Already he could feel his gums aching with a fresh swell of fang.

Gunther seemed to read his agitated thoughts. With a deft flick of his wrist, he produced a second glass bottle filled with the same irresistible elixir and tossed it to Blake. "Here, Killer. But just take it slow this time, yeah?"

Blake caught the bottle deftly, his gaze burning with single-minded intensity as he unstoppered it and brought the lip to his mouth. This time he sipped slowly, allowing the thick liquid to roll languidly over his tongue and down his ravenous gullet.

Each swallow kindled a surge of molten rapture that thrummed through his neural pathways. The inferno of his thirst was being banked, but not extinguished - a slow, stoking burn rather than a conflagration. He could get used to this feeling...

So consumed was he by slaking his newfound craving that Blake failed to register the bedroom door swinging open until a harsh voice cut through his reverie.

"What is going on here?"

It was Nana, standing in the doorway with a look of utter bewilderment and barely concealed disgust. Her gaze traveled from Blake, slumped back in his chair with a half-drained bottle clutched to his lips, to the knowing smirk curving Gunther's mouth.

Blake froze mid-swallow, suddenly realizing how this must appear to an outsider's eyes. Here he was guzzling some unknown substance like a back-alley drunk, while his comrade looked on with amused indifference.

Gunther pushed off from the wall, taking a slow, meandering step toward Nana with his palms raised in a placating gesture.

"Easy there, Nana. Just helping our boy Blake with a...unique dietary requirement." His tone held the barest edge of playful mockery, as if the very notion of explaining himself to Nana was faintly ludicrous.

From the way Nana bristled, she clearly picked up on his undertone. "Don't you 'Nana' me, Gunther! I want to know exactly what's in that bottle, and where you two have been sneaking off to at all hours."

Her glare swung back to Blake, practically incinerating him where he sat. "Reggie had also entrusted me to look after you while he's away in search of Rose. How am I supposed to do that when you two keep me in the dark?"

Blake found himself unable to hold Nana's accusatory stare. A flush of shame crept up his neck as he slowly lowered the bottle. She was absolutely right, after all - they shouldn't be hiding things or breaking rules behind her back. Reggie had placed his trust in Nana too, and by extension Blake owed her that same faith.

"You're right, Nana. We're sorry," Blake said gruffly, finally meeting her eyes with his own contrite gaze. "We didn't mean any disrespect. We just...went out to blow off some steam."

Nana's eyebrows hiked upward at that. "Oh, is that what you call it? And I suppose that bottle is just filled with 'steam' too, is it?"

Gunther threw back his head with a rumbling chuckle. "Actually, it's-"

"Blood." The single word hung in the air, seeming to reverberate with finality as Blake interrupted his friend's flip response. "It's supplemented blood that Reggie has...acquired to help with my transition."

He held up the bottle, face solemn. "I haven't been doing so well controlling my hunger lately. The killings, they were..." Blake's voice trailed off as images of his feral rampages flashed through his mind's eye. The screams, the terror, the feeling of hot vitae flooding his mouth as he--

"Enough." Nana's tone cut through the rising tide of Blake's grisly memories like a dull knife.