Malakai was most definitely not like the other vampires Gatlin had known. Most of them just wanted to use him, and be done with it. They'd feed, and sometimes fuck, and leave him to fend for himself when he woke from the weakness.
Few cared for conversation, and even then it was superficial. Not one had ever asked him why. He leaned back against Kai, almost savoring the feeling of being held. It was nice, calming.
"Because it's something I can do. Blood replenishes itself. If you feed off me, maybe you won't attack some innocent kid, or someone's mother, or someone's son. When I'm in the embrace, with a vampire feeding from me, it's like the ultimate high. I can do anything, be anything, in that moment. It's better than sex, and sometimes sex follows, and I don't even care." That, and the hope that one day, someone, maybe even Kai, would offer blood in return. Gatlin had read from numerous sources vampire blood had healing attributes, and he had hope that he could one day get his hand healed.