Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Sir pricked his finger and I watched with interest as a droplet of purple blood came out. It was a different shade than the Baron’s, being more of a reddish purple while Baron Vik’tor’s had more blue in it. Sir let the droplet fall into the goblet in front of him and handed it to the Baron.
As though by mutual consent, both men raised the tiny goblets to their lips and sipped the drops of blood they had exchanged. The sight made me feel kind of queasy—drinking blood wasn’t my thing—and I was glad I didn’t have to drink anyone’s blood or let them drink mine.
But then Baron Vik’tor said,
“And now, the ladies,” and nodded to me and Dru’silla.
The Naggian woman lifted her chin and looked down her nose at me.
“I am not exchanging blood with a mere pet” she declared in a haughty voice. “I am a daughter of the Ninth House! My father is the Lord Protectorate of the H’rxk’bas Region!”
“Dru’silla, please!” Azz’lx hissed, glaring at her. “These are important visitors—we don’t want to offend them, or Vik’tor!”
“No, that’s quite all right,” I said, lifting my chin as well. “I don’t think we ought to exchange blood, either. After all, my Great Aunt is the Lady of Rolling Acres Estates back on Earth. And she is the Keeper of the Special Seven,” I added for good measure, thinking of Aunt Maizy’s little dogs. “I don’t think she would like me to pollute our sacred blood line by mixing it with someone who isn’t quite up to our social standing.”
“Not up to your social standing?” Dru’silla demanded, looking at me in apparent surprise.
“You heard me,” I said loftily, keeping my chin high. I hadn’t wanted to prick my finger or drink anyone else’s blood in the first place, so her snobbery suited me just fine.
“Fuck it, I’ll exchange blood with you, little one,” Baron Vik’tor rumbled unexpectedly. “I can’t claim a pure blood line, but I’m willing to exchange.”
This put me on the spot and I looked up to see Sir staring down at me meaningfully. Clearly, I was going to have to do this or risk offending our host.
Deciding it was best to get things over with quickly, I reached over and stabbed my finger down on the spike in front of me before I let myself think about it.
“Ouch!” I muttered as a droplet of pure crimson welled up from my wounded finger. I quickly squeezed it into the tiny goblet in front of me and passed it to the Baron, who passed me another goblet with a droplet of his bluish-purple blood.
This was another thing I didn’t want to think about, lest I lose my nerve. Quickly, I upended the tiny crystal glass and let the drop of the Baron’s blood fall on my tongue. It had a salty, sweetish, slightly bitter taste that reminded me of blood oranges. I swallowed quickly, pretending it was just blood orange juice rather than actual blood on my tongue.
But when I looked up at Baron Vik’tor, he was still holding the tiny crystal goblet containing the drop of my blood.
“Fucking extraordinary,” he muttered, holding it up to the light from the fire which blazed behind him and examining it. “Red blood!”
“Um…yes, we humans have iron in our blood,” I explained awkwardly. “That’s what makes it red—I think, anyway.” It had been a long time since I took Biology class.
Baron Vik’tor lifted the tiny goblet to his lips and sipped experimentally, as though he was tasting a new vintage he wasn’t quite sure about. When my blood hit his tongue, his eyes widened in apparent surprise.
“Delicious!” he exclaimed. “It’s warm.”
“Er, thank you, I guess,” I mumbled. I wasn’t used to being complimented on the flavor of my blood.
“Little one’s species are unable to regulate their body temperatures,” Sir explained. “That might account for the warmth—she cannot lower her temperature enough to be comfortable in your chilly climate.”
“So she’s a warm-blood—no fucking wonder.” The Baron nodded thoughtfully. “Actually, I like things warmer myself, as you can see.” And he nodded at the fire which was blazing behind him. “Hope it doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable,” he added. “Since some of you are used to much colder temperatures.”
I saw Dru’silla move impatiently and give the fireplace a scathing look but Azz’lx, her husband said quickly,
“Oh, no—of course not, Vik’tor! We’re perfectly comfortable.”
“It feels good to me,” I said, though to be honest, I was starting to get a little bit warm. I wondered if it would be considered terribly rude to remove any more of the furry layers Sir had made me wear. It was hard to know what to do or not to do to keep from offending.
“I’m glad you’re all comfortable,” the Baron said. “Because I have a treat planned for tonight—a real, old-fashioned, traditional Naggian feast, just like our ancestors used to eat before we became a space-faring people.”