At home, he followed her to their room, leaned against the doorjamb, and watched her change her shoes. She hated the need to wear the chunky health shoes.
"Look at me."
She looked up and clashed with glowing ice shards.
"I need to take your blood."
She recoiled, nauseated at the thought of anyone drinking blood. "Why?"
"I need to be able to track you."
"You tracked me to church that day and you didn't take my blood then."
He shrugged. "Short distances, with no barriers and spells interfering I can track you."
"I don't want you to do it." Apart from the fact that she couldn't imagine letting anyone suck her blood, it would also be unbearably intimate. She didn't want to get that close to him, not with the memory, of how he'd manipulated and planned to use her, haunting her.
"If you are taken to a place protected by the spells of a powerful witch, I need to be able to track you."