Damien really shouldn't have felt smug about the low, throaty sound of pleasure Cain made when he tipped the mug back and drank from it, but he did. His stomach also did a little flip when Cain lowered the mug and met his gaze, eyes flickering with hunger for a moment, before he reached over and grabbed the knife from Damien's hand and ran his tongue along the edge, cleaning Damien's blood from the blade.
"I probably should have offered to feed you directly," Damien said, feeling a bit sheepish as he watched Cain run a finger along the inner surface of the mug and lick that clean, too.
Cain, who still looked exhausted, waved off his half-baked apology with the same hand he'd just licked clean. "It's understandable, after the close call."
Damien felt a bit of relief. "I wasn't sure you'd agree."
"I told you," Cain said, sounding mildly exasperated as he leaned over to set the mug down on the bedside table, "I don't want a thrall. If you think it's wiser to avoid that level of contact for a little longer, I'm not going to argue the matter."
"Even if feeding directly is more potent?" Damien asked. He'd learned that from Grace, who had been very surprised (and worried) to come across him in the kitchen. She'd warned him that a vampire who fed indirectly usually needed twice as much blood as a direct feeding – it probably had something to do with their magic, Damien had theorized, and Grace hadn't offered any other theory in opposition.
Cain's brows climbed up his forehead briefly, clearly mildly surprised that Damien was aware of the situation. "I can be patient," he said.
Damien wondered how patient Cain could stand to be, when he'd been on the verge of blood hunger to the point of handing Damien a blessed knife to keep him away if need be.
Speaking of which…
"I'll take the knife back now," Damien said. "I should take this stuff back to the kitchen."
Cain made a move to stand, but Damien wasn't blind to how slow and stiff the vampire was at the moment.
"You stay here," he ordered. "Get some sleep." It was a little bit odd, having such a sudden role reversal. Now that he was no longer suffering from mate sickness, Damien could feel his vitality returning to him. But Cain had gone without feeding for awhile, and the deprivation was clearly wearing on him – and the bonding hadn't helped matters any. Now he was the pale, listless one, and Damien thought it was best to let the vampire recover a bit more from whatever had happened during the bond formation.
Surprisingly, Cain seemed more than happy to comply, which merely confirmed Damien's suspicions that he was in no condition to be going anywhere or doing anything.
Once the vampire crawled back into the bed, not even bothering to find a comfortable position on the hard mattress before immediately dropping off to sleep, Damien popped his head out of the door and looked up and down the hallway, feeling anxious. He'd put on a brave face when he told Cain to go to sleep, but the truth was he was still terribly nervous about walking around the halls where other thralls passed through. He still didn't know of Crowe had his thrall looking for him, and he didn't like his chances with Johann, either. At this point the only thralls he really trusted were Grace and Ellen, and everyone else was painted with suspicion in his mind.
The one advantage he had was that the full moon was drawing close, and now that he wasn't wasting away from mate sickness, he had his enhanced sense of smell to rely on while navigating halls. It helped him avoid the most crowded areas – except for the kitchen, which of course had more thralls than anywhere else, though it couldn't be avoided for obvious reasons. He just hoped no one hostile would happen to be there while he was returning the mug and the knife.
What he hadn't expected, once he put his mind to finding the most expedient and least-populated route to the kitchen, was catching wind of an entirely-too-familiar scent. It seemed to be heading in the direction of the kitchen, too, and he was even less surprised to note that Grace's scent followed the same route.
Sure enough, when he stepped through the door of the kitchen, he spotted none other than Dezzy, seated on a countertop (that was almost certainly intended for other activities if the scowls she was getting was any indication) and waving her hands dramatically in the air as she regaled Grace with some sort of wild tale about a bar fight. Damien stood back for a moment, watching the two of them conversing, the way Grace's face light up in a way he'd not seen her react to any other person, noting the way Dezzy preened at the attention.
A small pang in his chest reminded him that this sort of soft, comfortable flirting was not a possibility for his own future. As grateful as he was that Cain had agreed to the bonding, and despite his begrudging acceptance that the vampire was only mostly terrible, he didn't see himself ever flirting or looking at him the way Grace watched Dezzy, the way Dezzy watched her in return. It just wasn't in the future Brinn had designated for him, and he knew he had to accept it. But it still hurt a little, to know that his would always be a bond of convenience, rather than something deeper, softer, sweeter.
He'd just managed to fix his features into something that didn't look like pathetic longing when Dezzy happened to look over to the door and spotted him.
"Damie!" she shouted, flinging herself from the counter, nearly crashing into Grace in her eagerness. "You look better!"
"I feel better," Damien said, hurrying across the kitchen in an attempt to keep her from shouting quite so loudly. "How are you?"
"I got a job!" Dezzy beamed. "At the tavern with the good beer. Did you know they offer staff meals?"
Damien hadn't been job hunting on the journey over, so of course he hadn't known, and she knew that. Still, he shook his head. "Is the food as good as the beer?"
"It's great!" Dezzy grinned. "Oh, I brought you a pastry from town," she added, digging into her cross-body shoulder bag. It looked new, so he concluded it had been a recent purchase, since he didn't recall her using it during their trip to the castle.
"Thanks," he said, accepting the mildly smashed danish and sparing her a grin. "Did you bring Grace something, too?"
"Of course, I wouldn't leave her out!" Dezzy protested, her face heating a little. "Besides, she's hosting me for the afternoon, what kind of guest doesn't bring a little treat as thanks for the hospitality?"
Damien thought about pointing out that mother's guests rarely brought anything with them when they came in search of help. But then again, he knew that she was just making an excuse for herself to bring Grace a treat. Far be it from him to interfere with that! "I didn't realize you were the polite sort," he smirked. "My mistake."
"Oh, you–!" Dezzy mock-punched his shoulder.
Damien pretended to recoil, rubbing it with his empty hand. "Hey!"
"Oh, lighten up, you're clearly feeling better, and it's a sister's right to beat up her little brother," Dezzy said.
"I don't think that's true," Damien protested, turning to Grace. "Don't you agree?"
Grace looked conflicted. "I think… it's probably not the kindest thing you could do, mistreating your sibling."
"Not you, too!" Dezzy complained. "It's because you're an only child, you wouldn't understand."
Grace shot Damien a look that clearly said I don't think that's the convincing argument she thinks it is.
Damien burst out laughing despite himself. "You're ridiculous," he told Dezzy.
"Keep talking like that and I'll just leave," Dezzy threatened, though her smile told him she had no plan to leave anytime soon.
"Fine, fine," Damien said, still chuckling. "So why are you here?"
The mood instantly shifted from one of lighthearted banter to something much more serious. "Well…" Dezzy said, sounding a bit hesitant, glancing over to Grace.
"The full moon is in two days," Grace said, concern as evident in her expression as her voice. "I thought it might be good to ask for some advice, and we weren't sure what condition you'd be in."
Ah. Right. That made sense. "Well then," he said, lifting the mug and knife, causing Dezzy to startle a little as if she hadn't noticed them until that moment. "I'll drop these into the wash basin, and maybe we can find a private place to discuss the plan of action?"
Grace nodded, and Dezzy grinned.
"Sounds like a plan!"