“Don’t run away, querida,” he said quietly. “Cricket means nothing, but can’t you see that Ford is special? He’s very fond of you. He would be thankful to be your thrall.”

“Why do you keep pushing me toward him? Maybe it’s you who wants to watch. I don’t want a thrall.” I was mesmerized by the gold hair on Ian’s charcoal shirt.

Cricket and Ford came into the foyer. She rolled a scalpel in her manicured fingers. Oswald had used a scalpel on me and I associated the surgical instrument with his affection, with the happiness I’d once had.

Ian said to Ford, “Milagro doesn’t believe that others take pleasure in offering what she craves.”

The gawky young man stepped to me and put his hand on my shoulder, sending a warm fizzle through me. “Milagro, I’d really like it if you, um, vant to suck my blood. It would be totally awesome for someone who grew up on Bela Lugosi flicks.”

“Those are pictures on a screen,” I said. “Cuts hurt.”

“I know, but only for a second, and you’re a lot cuter than Lugosi,” he said.

Then Cricket lifted Ford’s hand and deftly slashed his palm with the scalpel, making him wince before he gave me an abashed smile.

She held Ford’s hand out to me and the cut filled with glossy red blood. “Be my guest,” the bitch said, daring me.

She had taken something from me and now the copper tang of fresh blood and the eagerness on her husband’s sweet face muddled my thinking even further.

“Please, please, please,” he said playfully.

I took Ford’s hand in both of mine and put my lips to his palm. I looked up at Ian, but I couldn’t read his expression, and then I licked Ford’s blood. It was mild, yet delectable, a healthy-young-man’s blood.

Ford was gazing down at me. I gently moved my tongue along the cut. My mind was clouded, but my body hummed with pleasure and Ford sucked in his breath and then said, “Oh, yeah, harder,” and I nipped gently to increase the blood flow.

When I saw the corner of Ian’s mouth twitch upward in a smile, I dropped Ford’s hand.

“Holy shit,” Ford said, and laughed. He glanced around at his wife, who looked pleased. “That was so cool!”

“I told you,” Cricket said. She handed the drink back to him. “Let’s find Mrs. K and have her clean that up.” She led him back toward the party.

Ian spotted the blond strand on his shirt and plucked it off, letting it drift to the floor. “You see how pleasing it is to have an eager friend. Come join the others. They’re dying to meet you.”