Page 54 of Inked & Bloodbound
I’m standing at the window again, but this time it’s different. The glass is thinner now. It flexes beneath my palms, like tissue paper that might tear at any moment. Beyond it, the space between planes swirls with silver light and shadow, voices calling out from the darkness like stars scattered across an endless night.
Something’s wrong. I can feel it in the way the air moves, heavy and urgent.
I press my ear to the glass, listening past the usual chorus of spirits seeking attention, searching for something specific.
And then I hear it—a voice I recognize, speaking words I don’t understand.
Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum…
Cassini’s voice, but not speaking to me. Speaking to someone else entirely. The Latin flows like music through the void, desperate and broken. Round and round it goes like a Benedictine chant.
Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui…
The pain in his voice cuts through me like a blade. He thinks I’m dying.
He thinks he’s killed me.
I try to reach out to him, to tell him I’m okay, but the connectionfeels weak, distant. So instead, I push against the window, forcing it open wider, stepping through the space between?—
My eyes snap open, and I search the darkness for something familiar. Something I can see, something I can hear, something I can touch. Something to bring me back. I can see the outline of Cass, his hands pressed together in prayer. I can hear him murmuring, low and focused. I can feel the lumpy couch pressing into my spine, the knots twisting into my flesh.
I’m in the basement. I’m safe.
Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus…
My body is vibrating, a heavy electricity flooding my nerves. Making my fizzing limbs feel detached and floaty, yet every part of me feels sensitive. Every inch aches to be held and to be touched. I drift my arm out toward Cassini, but it doesn’t reach. It stays there floating in mid-air, suspended and tingling.
Nunc et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen.
“Amen,” I croak as I open my eyes.
His head jerks up, eyes wide and glassy. “Lily? Oh God, Lily, you’re awake.” He reaches for me, then stops himself, his hands hovering inches from my face. “I thought I’d hurt you. I thought?—”
“I’m okay.” I try to sit up and immediately regret it as the ground rises up to meet me. “I’m fine, Cass. Just a little dizzy.”
“You’re not fine. You’ve been out for hours. Your pulse was so weak I could barely—” His voice breaks. “I took too much. I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.”
I reach up to touch my neck where his fangs had pierced me, expecting to find wounds, but there’s nothing. Just smooth, unmarked skin.
“There’s nothing there,” I say, looking at him with wonder.
“My venom is powerful. It can heal wounds, but it can’t replace the blood I stole from you.” He won’t meet my eyes. “I nearly drained you dry, Lily. Just like I said I would.”
“You didn’t, though.” I struggle to sit up properly, waving away his attempts to help. “I’ve seen this before, you know. At the hospital.People donate blood and sometimes they just pass out, especially if they skip breakfast.” I attempt a smile. “Which I did.”
He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “This wasn’t a blood donation. This was a bloodbath.” He lowers his voice, shame dripping from every word. “I nearly murdered you.”
“I think that’s a little dramatic,” I say, rubbing my temples. “I’m still alive, and look at you. You’re all better. So it’s okay. We’re both okay.”
“It still doesn’t excuse what I did,” he says, shaking his head. “Can I get you anything? What is it that you need?”
My mouth is dry, and a pounding headache threatens from somewhere at the base of my skull, so I slowly attempt to rise from the couch. “I just need to drink something, eat some sugar, and I’ll be okay.”
Cass stands up and guides me to my feet. When my legs wobble and threaten to collapse, he wraps his arms around me and holds me against him. I lean into the hardness of his chest and rest my cheek there for a moment, feeling the chill radiating through his shirt.
At the contact, my body pulses with need. My heart accelerates abruptly to a gallop and pounds against my ribs. A kaleidoscope of images flash behind my eyes. I’m gripped by a sudden need to be naked. I want to tear away the fabric between us and lick the salt from his skin. I want to run my fingers through his hair, push his fangs into my veins, and slide on top of him. To ride him and grind my hips into him until I come.
Where the hell did that come from?