Page 51 of Inked & Bloodbound
“Cazzate,” I mutter, clenching my teeth to bite back a fresh wave of agony. My exposed skin looks like cracked leather, blackened at the edges. Each time I shift my weight a puff of steam releases from my clothes. I lay my blistered hands across my chest and take a few steady breaths.
Her eyes get glassy, and her posture stiffens as she paces back and forth in front of me in her cute pink pajamas. Her ass is great, and if I wasn’t a dying man, I’d be paying more attention to how the lines of the soft fabric hug the curves of her body. Only this woman could look sexy in a pair of fluffy slippers.
If it’s the last thing I ever see, I’ll enter the afterlife a happy man.
Her words tumble into each other as she’s walking, the momentum of them matching the nervous energy humming through her body. “I know. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have reached out to you last night. I didn’t expect you to come, or that all of this would happen. I just couldn’t deal after what Pat told me, and I needed a friend who’d understand?—”
I wave my scorched hand for her to stop. “Lily, I’m sorry. You don’t have to feel guilty about this. I knew the risks when I got behind that wheel with dawn approaching. I made the choice. I’m just pissed that I have to clean up the mess in the car.”
I offer a wry smile. She attempts to return it, but it’s fake.
A creaking noise from upstairs makes us both stiffen. The rattle of floorboards shifting, and signs of life from above. Her eyes shoot up to the ceiling, and she backs toward the door with her finger pressed to her lips, indicating I should shut up.
“Pat’s awake,” she whispers. “I gotta go, but I’ll come back down as soon as he’s gone to work.”
She leans against the door and presses her ear against it, listening for his footsteps. When they fade, she points to the bag on the floor and lowers her voice so much that only a vampire could hear it. “Make sure you drink that. All of it. I’m serious.”
She shoots me a warning look, and then she’s gone, flipping the light switch behind her and plunging the basement into blissful darkness.
I finishedup the last drops of blood an hour ago, and despite the indignity of drinking half-coagulated lumps from a synthetic pouch, it’s helping. I’m just grateful Lily wasn’t here to see me licking theplastic clean like a hungry dog. The excruciating burning inside me has already subsided. Now it’s merely searing.
My skin has stopped bubbling, and the row of vicious red blisters along my knuckles are healing, but there’s still a long way to go before I’m back to full strength.
Lily’s voice drifts to me through the darkness, filling my head with sunshine. At the sound of her, my body relaxes, and her words flow into me.
Cassini?
I’m here.
Pat’s leaving soon, and then I’ll come to you. I promise. Not long now. We’ll have the place to ourselves. He’s got a gig after work tonight.
I’ll be here.
I’ve been thinking about our blood problem. Can it be any blood? Like, animal blood?
Normally, yes…but damage like this, from the sun, is different. The blood has to be human.
She’s quiet.
Lily?
The connection between us severs abruptly, leaving me fumbling in the darkness for her. Grasping at the ghost of her voice and wishing there was a way to summon her back. Her gift is apparently growing stronger by the day, and soon I fear that there will be no way to stop her from accessing my thoughts at will.
The thought nauseates me. If that happens, I’ll no longer be able to hide the truth of who I am and all the terrible things I’ve done. Centuries of bloodshed and pain, flowing unfettered into the mind of someone who’s a thousand times better than any human I’ve ever known.
Around me, the house buzzes with life, and the sounds of Lily’s stepfather moving around and performing the familiar routine of domesticity drift down like echoes of a life that I’ll never experience. A melodic tune whistles while a tea kettle heats on the stove, the sound of the tinny little speaker playing AC/DC and the warmth in his voice as he calls up to Lily, offering her breakfast.
When I register the sound of car keys jangling and pleasant goodbyes at the door, I ready myself for her arrival. Running my tender fingers through my hair to straighten it up and look presentable. It feels like a futile effort given half my face is covered in burns, but I have to at least try.
Lily arrives within seconds. Showered and dressed in a yellow polka dot summer dress and white sneakers.
“Hi,” I croak, but when she closes the door behind herself, she doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t respond to my weary greeting. She just kneels on the concrete floor next to my splayed body on the couch and looms down at me.
Her face goes white as she takes in the damage. Earlier the burns were contained to my hands and neck. Now they’ve spread across my chest, creeping inward like some malignant infection.
“Oh God,” she breathes, her hands hovering over me but not quite touching. “Cassini, you’re getting worse.”
I can see her mind working, processing. The single bag wasn’t enough—we both knew it wouldn’t be, but seeing the evidence written across my deteriorating body hits her all at once.