Page 17 of Velvet Folds (Velvet)

Chapter 17

In which our hero spills blood beneath the moon

My Sacrifice is not alone.

The man she shoves backward is clearly her father. I can see the resemblance, I can see the marks left behind by the vodyanoy’s attempt to kill him.

Another man watches their interaction warily, a stake with its carved incantations in his hand.

Swooping down, I snatch the stake from the man’s hand and fling it far away.

He draws a sword with a trembling hand instead, slashing indiscriminately.

Fear makes him careless and I pull Lucia out of the way, but not fast enough. The blade slices through her dress and through her skin and the scent of her blood bursts across the air, but it is not hunger that my sacrifice’s blood triggers.

Not this time.

This blood was not freely given. And the one who drew it…

I grab his wrist, breaking the bones, forcing him to drop the sword.

I catch him up by his throat, lifting him off the ground and staring down into his wide and terrified eyes.

Good. He should be terrified.

“Please, don’t bite me.” His words are weak, shaking with terror.

“I would not taste the filth of your blood if you were the last option available to me.” I tighten my grip and leap into the air, carrying him by his throat, back to the village.

I don’t fear leaving Lucia with her father. The man wants my life. He won’t take hers.

No one peeks out of their homes. I don’t want them to tonight. I want this man to suffer. I want him to know unending pain.

And when I shove him down, dropping him onto the bell tower’s spindle, his scream paints the air with my vengeance.

It pierced him too far off center.

He might survive it.

I don’t care if he lives or dies, so long as he does it in pain.

I leave him there, blood dripping down the roof tiles. If someone wishes to save him, they can. But he will get no mercy from me tonight.

His screams echo across the town’s roofs, but I gain little satisfaction from them.

I want Lucia. I need to know that she is safe.

She has placed the stone between herself and her father. He wields a wicked looking syringe. There could be any number of things inside it, but I smelled the silver sail before. I don’t need to guess. And I don’t need to bother with him tonight.

He is a problem for tomorrow, when Lucia’s wounds are tended and the moon no longer bleeds.

I snatch her out of his reach and when he screams after us… I do find a great deal of satisfaction in that.

She whimpers in pain and I try not to touch her back as I carry her. Face buried in my ruff, I don’t ask her any questions.

Taking her back to the castle, I go to Mrs. Pegg instead of the secluded place I had planned for tonight’s feeding.

The older woman gasps and gets to work, immediately, cleaning the wound and smearing ointments on it.

“I don’t think it needs stitches. But it’s going to scar.” she says. “Lucky think you Liarians collect them like badges of honor.”

“Though…” she glances at Lucia’s face and her only other scar. “Never met one with as few as you.”

Tybald stands in the doorway, arms crossed. “Are you willing to tell me who it was, now that he’s hurt you,” he asks.

Lucia’s eyes are closed, her teeth grit against the latest salve Mrs. Pegg has used.

“A different man hurt her tonight. I left him bleeding on top of the bell tower.”

Tybald doesn’t look pleased with that, but he leaves us.

After another moment of fretting, Mrs. Pegg does too. And I gently take my sacrifice into my arms.

I inhale her. Letting her skin and the blood beneath it soothe me.

“You can’t drink from me. I might be poisonous.” She shows me a red scratch on her forearm. “He nicked me.”

Lifting her wrist to my mouth, I shake my head, brushing my lips across her skin. “No. That was always a useless method of killing my kind. I could smell it if it was in your blood.”

“Do you promise me?”

“I would never do anything to cut our time short.”

“Then take me somewhere I can take off this ruined dress and you can feed.”

I scoop her up with my arm beneath her legs so that I don’t hurt her any more than I have to, and I take her back to the chamber that will eventually keep her safe when I cannot be with her.

I was not with her tonight.

The bed is turned down and I set her on her feet beside it.

“I won’t have anything to wear, but… it’s already ruined,” she says, “just tear it off.”

The fabric rips beneath my hands, but I do as she requests gently.

Whatever Mrs. Pegg put on her back, it is odorless and even though I know it has worked its way into her bloodstream, I know that I am still safe to drink from my sacrifice tonight.

But I lay her down on her stomach first.

“What are you doing?” she asks, even as she lets me do as I like with her.

“I’m going to distract you.”

When I spread her legs and kiss her, she doesn’t ask anymore questions.

The taste of her velvet folds make me ache. I want nothing more than to pull her closer to me until my tongue fills her so completely.

I want to know every nuance of her flavor, every sweet and tangy ounce of her.

I want to taste the difference when she comes and when her body simply works to make itself ready for me.