Living with the vampires was like a dream.

Knox had never been so well fed or well rested in his entire life. His grades were steadily increasing (who knew how easy college was when you weren’t worried about money all the time?), his bank account was looking better than it ever had, and even his acne was clearing up. It nearly felt like a vacation.

If he wasn’t so aware of Callum’s glares, the tense phone calls Valentine seemed to have daily, or of the red bags in the fridge. No attempts for his blood had been made, but he was hard pressed to forget the vampires were predators, and he was their prey.

In hindsight, maybe a pillow barrier wasn’t as formidable as it seemed.

The night had started out normal enough, with August glued to his side like a leech until they went to their respective sides. They had formed a sort of routine, dancing the line between what could be platonic. Was it gay if your vampire friend held your hand while you stared into their eyes lovingly and counted the freckles on their cheeks?

Sleep reached him easily, and it was dark when he woke up (which was normal, because there was never any natural lighting inside the nest, so it was pitch black when they slept). A strange, sharp pain exploded in his wrist, like large needles were slipping into his skin. The panic was gone as quickly as it came though, Knox only getting a second to gasp before an unusual, calm feeling washed over him. It was foreign, nearly unnatural as he felt his heart calm, his tense muscles relax. They weren’t his emotions, he was aware of that, but he was powerless to do anything but sigh at the strange sensation. It was like when you tasted a purple candy, and you knew it was supposed to be grape although it tasted nothing like the real thing. Artificial and manmade, but still sugary sweet and syrupy against your tongue.

The needles slid out, and there was only a moment of relief before something warm and wet sealed over the wound, and then the feeling of sucking. It took his sluggish brain longer than it should have to understand that he had been bitten.

He couldn’t move a muscle. Vampires were venomous creatures, their fangs ejected an anti-coagulant as well as a muscle relaxant, immobilizing their prey so they couldn’t struggle while they feasted. Reasonably, Knox knew he should have been flipping his shit internally. Even if his sympathetic nervous system wasn't working properly, he should have at least been concerned. He wasn't though.

He didn’t make a sound as his thoughts started to go fuzzy, and he was sure if he could have seen anything his vision would have been going dark.

Knox didn’t know how they ultimately noticed, but suddenly light flooded the room from the hallway. He got a glimpse of August’s reddish curls before he was hauled off of him.

Just like that, the spell broke. The calm fled, and it left something horrible in its wake. Knox had been hungry before. Specifically, his first few weeks in his apartment, when all his money had been spent on deposits and getting his water and electricity turned on and purchasing a mattress. His pantry had been practically bare for the first two weeks, he’d resorted to visiting the pantry for students in need on campus and the soup kitchen for homeless people. Even that hadn’t been quite enough, there had been a few nights where his stomach had twisted painfully while he tried to sleep, vision dancing with spots from the lack of food.

For a split second, an all-consuming need swirled through him, a cavernous pit of longing and want that stemmed from his throat and spread through his body like acid. It felt like rage almost, like he needed to rip into someone’s flesh to feel right again.

Then it was gone, and Nash was standing above him, blocking his view of the rest of the room. It didn’t hide the inhuman snarling though. He couldn’t do much more than blink up at him, though, mind reeling from what had just happened and muscles frozen from the venom.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” He said, arms wrapping around him and lifting him up. He had never heard Nash sound so gentle before, the rough timbre of his voice softened as he spoke, “Can you speak, little one?”

He tried to open his mouth, but ultimately a small, pained noise was all he could manage.

“That’s fair. The venom will fade soon, okay? Your tolerance will be low, but it shouldn’t last for more than an hour.” Nash explained, settling him against the headboard. He took his hand then, carefully lifting his arm and inspecting the damage. His wrist looked somewhat mangled, and he could see a bruise already forming on his forearm from where August was holding him down. Nash brought the wound to his mouth and he thought that he was about to finish the job, but instead he just licked over the bites and the bleeding stopped immediately.

“He’s lost a lot of blood.” Callum was there suddenly, standing beside the bed. They looked a bit disheveled, but their eyebrows were knitted in concern as they looked him over.

“Do you think we should do a transfusion?”

“We should get him on fluids, at the very least. I’m worried he’ll go into hypovolemic shock.” They said and disappeared out of the room, presumably to grab said fluids.

He didn’t know when the snarling had stopped, but the room was quiet now, and Nash sat beside him. Valentine and August were nowhere to be seen.

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Callum hooked him up to an IV drip, complete with a machine and everything. It had seemed like before, they had had nothing more than basic first aid equipment when he’d gotten his concussion. He briefly wondered if they had been preparing for something like this to happen, not that it really mattered. The paralysis faded slowly. Gradually he was able to twitch his fingertips, move his mouth. Then he could clench his hand, move his ankles. Eventually he could sit up.

He didn’t know how to feel or what to say, so he didn’t. He just allowed Callum to bandage his wrist, ignoring their probing questions as he stared at the white gauze.

Eventually, Valentine burst into the room.

The door slammed against the wall, which caused him to flinch at the sudden noise. “Oh, you poor thing!” He said in that fluttery way of his, approaching him like a distraught mother. He looked as pristine as usual, in silk, patterned pajamas. Like the kind rich people wore in TV shows. He’d have been surprised they weren’t monogrammed if he didn’t know Valentine thought it was tacky.

He scooted away before he could touch him, and Valentine froze in place, “Knox?”

“I want to go home.” He whispered, the first thing he had said in an hour.

Nash’s head whipped up from where he was leaning against the wall, apparently surprised by the words. Valentine looked pained, “Little one, I know this incident has been scary, but it’s still not safe for you-“

“I’m going to call Flint,” He said, now understanding the dragon’s concern. If what he had just experienced was merely a taste of a vampire’s blood lust, he didn’t want to know anything more. “And I’ll stay with him. If I need to, I’ll call my parents.”

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“I have all of your items packed.” Valentine said, gesturing toward the three suitcases of stuff by the door. He looked nervous, and a little sad, but accepting of his decision. “Your friend should be here any minute.”

Knox nodded, feeling awkward. This felt like what he imagined a breakup to be, though he wasn’t dating any of the vampires. “Thanks.”

“If you need anything, and I mean anything, you’ll give me a call.” Valentine demanded, nearly reaching out for him but seeming to think better of it, “I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry for putting you in another situation where you weren’t safe. We thought August had a better grasp on his instincts, but that isn’t an excuse. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive him.”

Fortunately, there was a knock on the door before the silence got too awkward. Valentine answered, and Flint stepped inside with a frown on his face.

“I thought you said he would be safe under your care.” Flint said, face impassive.

“A miscalculation on our part.” The elder answered, “I think Knox is eager to leave.”

“I am,” He agreed. He still felt lightheaded just from standing for five minutes and he wanted more than anything to sleep. “Let’s go.”

Flint’s car smelled of leather and smoke. Not the kind that stemmed from cigarettes, but the smoky scent of a campfire. There weren’t any visible air fresheners in the cab. Flint insisted upon carrying his suitcases down, and he sat in the passenger seat while the dragon stuffed them in the trunk. He didn’t start driving immediately once he was in the car, instead looking over him with careful eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m tired. Do you have a spare bed in your den?”

“No. You can sleep in my bed.”

“Okay.”