Page 35

When I didn’t respond, she sighed and turned to go.

“And shoes. Bring her shoes.”

“And shoes.” Aurora mocked under her breath as she closed the door behind her. “You never got me shoes,” she muttered in the hall, loud enough that she’d know I’d hear.

I sank into the worn couch and popped two more pills, curling my lips at the bitter taste. I rubbed my tongue along my gums, pushing the gritty paste to absorb faster. This would help me come down and act normal. Tearing Shahid’s head off would not benefit the situation. It might be satisfying, but I had other concerns at the moment.

TWENTY-SIX

TIFFANY

The tile was cold and sharp against my feet. I didn’t like it at all. The bathroom was weird. It had the vibe it was a prefab, and they plopped it here on a forklift. There was a tub, and a giant shower stall you could fit a rugby team in. And a toilet, the kind you find in public schools and cheap office spaces. No lid or tank, with the hardware exposed in the back. I pulled the scrub bottoms down and balled them up under my feet so I wasn’t touching the tile. And then I just sat there. Nothing happening. Did I not have to pee? I always had to pee.

Oh, my god, do… vampires… not pee? Fuck. Am I going to get a period? Jesus fucking Christ, if I have to spend eternity with PMS and cramps, I was going to, well, stake myself. I have to get a mental list going of questions to ask.

1. Do vampires pee?

2. Period and pregnancy. Vampires don’t get pregnant in the movies on account of them being dead. I wouldn’t even wrap my head around being a pregnant vampire.

3. Fuck. Am I dead?

I turned on the shower. There was no helpful “H” or “C” label, so I fiddled with the knob until the water started warming and cranked it all the way to hot before backing it back down to what I thought would be a good temp. I kept my back to the mirror, and I didn’t dare look down at myself.

I stepped under the spray. Screamed. Jumped out.

“I’m fine!” I shouted in my loudest voice. Last thing I needed was the asshole barging in because he thought I was being murdered or something. The temperature of the water was fine, but every cell in my body felt the heat and pressure all at once. There was a bottle of shampoo and conditioner. It was knock off store brand. No soap, though. I squirted some shampoo on my palm and washed my forearms. Maybe if I do one body part at a time, I could tolerate it.

After my piecemeal shower, I used the only two towels in the place. Lachlan could use my damp towels if he wanted a shower. I kicked the disgusting scrubs into a pile in the corner. I was not putting those back on. But I did fold the blanket neatly.

“Hey, asshole! I need some clothes.”

Nothing. After a few minutes of silent agony, I peeked my head out. He was still lounging, looking all pensive with his blue eyes lit up and his hair doing that sexy messy thing, like he’s run his hands through it a thousand times. I stepped further in the room and he didn’t seem to notice me until I said “Clothes?”.

He uncurled his leg, stretched it out before him and stared at me. No. Heregardedme. It wasn’t a fuck boy up-and-down. The blue in his eyes grazed every part of me. Searching for damage or weakness, maybe? I clutched the towel closed with both hands to brace for the eventual icky feeling. It never came.

He got up and crossed to the other side of the room. His demeanor seeming to change as he transitioned from one carpet texture the other, from pensive to determined. He flipped open an ancient looking cooler and shuffled its contents, the muscles in his back pulling at a corner of the blue t-shirt. Prize in hand, he paced towards me, his eyes lit with something I couldn’t understand. I should back away, run, flee, but I couldn’t.

“You should drink first.” He held out a jewel colored plastic bag, all squishy and floppy.

“Is that…” I swallowed hard, a sense of thirst making my throat dry while my mouth watered, “bl…” I took a step back, then another.

“Blood.” He said the simple word, but it carried volumes of weight.

I tried to take another step back. The wall got in the way. I clutched my stomach as the cramping began, but nothing like period cramps. This felt soul deep, a pain seeking an easy relief.

He held it up for me. I shook my head. I did not want this. My body betrayed me by reaching for it. The room dimmed, everything narrowed like a cartoon spotlight lit up only that bit of plastic holding… Blood.

Moments, or an eternity later, that spotlight of focus expanded, and we were sitting on the floor. He gripped the towel around me in a tight fist, holding it together, holding me together. I licked my lips, bringing in more of that sense of satisfaction, which only highlighted another kind of hunger.

He drew in a long soft breath as he pulled my attention to his lips, flushed red and soft. My body moved with no thought. I straddled him and grabbed for his face, dragging lips to his. My fingers on his cheek felt wet and slippery. My tongue sought out that grassy, metallic source of satisfaction. I felt my teeth catch on his lips, his tongue, causing more… blood… to flow into me. I wrapped my legs around him, wanting him closer, in me.. The essential part of who I was, was reaching out, wanting to ensnare him, pull him right into who I was. This was… hunger. Not thirst. Need burned in me. I fumbled for his belt, grunting as my fingers wouldn’t obey.

He wrenched me free from him, and squished me flat to the floor, the rough carpet burning my fingertips and knees as I clawed to get back to him.

“Breathe, just breathe.” His whispers on my necks sending fire straight between my legs.

With the next blink, tile surrounded us. My head spun from the disorientation. Next, the water pouring on me. Sharp, cold, stabbing. I shook to get free, to get the water off me. He pressed me up against the cool tile. It was smooth and hurt less. He was still holding me up with a fist full of towel.

“I know,” his voice was in my ear, it rippled straight to my groin, “this is hard. You have to let it wash through you, but not take you.”