“You what?” Jenks blurted, and I sent my gaze to the people around us to remind him we weren’t alone. “She would have killed you!” he said, hushed now, but no less intense.

“Only because I asked her to ignore her feelings for me.” Flustered, I tucked a wayward strand of hair behind an ear. “Only because I let her bite me without the buffer of emotion that she uses to control her hunger.”

Jenks leaned closer, his curls flashing blond in the sun for an instant as his disguise charm bobbled. “But you’re straight,” he said. “You just said you were.”

Blushing, I pulled the bag that had the fudge in it closer. Hunger gnawed at my middle—thanks to the Brimstone—and I dug for the little white box. “Yeah,” I said, uncomfortable as I remembered her gentle touch on me growing intimate when she misunderstood. “But after yesterday, it’s pretty obvious she can share blood without the sex.” I darted a look at him, even as a shiver rose through me, unstoppable, at the reminder of how good it had felt.

“And she almost killed you trying,” Jenks protested. “Rache, she is still messed up, and this is too much, even for you. She can’t do it. You’re not physically or mentally strong enough to keep her under control if she loses it again.”

I hunched in worry, hiding my concern in trying to get the taped box open. “So we go slow,” I said, wrenching the thin white cardboard to no avail. “Work up to it, maybe.”

“Why?” Jenks exclaimed softly, his brow pinched in worry. “Why risk it?”

At that, I closed my eyes in a slow rueful blink. Crap. Maybe Ivy was right. Maybe this was just another way to fill my life with excitement and passion. But then I remembered our auras mixing, the desperation her soul was drowning in, and how I had eased her pain—if only for an instant.

“It felt good, Jenks,” I whispered, shocked to find my vision blurring with unshed tears. “I’m not talking about the blood ecstasy. I’m talking about my being able to fill that emotional void she has. You know her as well as I do, maybe better. She aches with it. She needs to be accepted for who she is so badly. And I was able to do that. Do you know how good that felt? To be able to show someone that, yes, you are someone worth sacrificing for? That you like them for their faults and that you respect them for their ability to rise above them?”

Jenks was staring at me, and I sniffed back the tears. “Damn,” I whispered, terrified all of a sudden. “Maybe it is love.”

Reaching slowly, Jenks took the box of fudge from me. Twisting to a pocket, he flipped open a knife and cut the tape. Still silent, he handed me the open box and tucked the knife away. “Are you sure about this?” he asked worriedly.