Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Briefly, like for less than a moment, I wonder where Lucia is. But that moment passes and I no longer care.
Ryet has calmed down now, but he’s made a new bite into my wrist and he has it pressed up to his lips. Every few moments he sucks like a baby on a breast. His head is on my chest, one arm thrown across my hips. His legs scissor into mine.
“He’s asleep.”
I turn my head and find Paul in bed with us. He’s lying next to me, looking down at me, smiling at me. “You’ve done it. I owe you.”
I manage a scoff, but not much else. I’m so weak.
“He’s going to need more. A lot more. But you must recover first. Can you guess what comes next?”
I don’t look at Paul. And I don’t need to guess. I already know he’s going to feed me.
And I wish I had the strength to say no. Not the physical strength to resist him—though I don’t have that either—but the mental strength.
Because I want that blood. I want to taste him. I want to taste both of them now. And I want them to feast on me too.
“That’s right.” Paul says this like he’s reading my mind, and he’s pushing a piece of sweaty hair away from my eyes. “That’s right, Syrsee. You want us. And we want you. And this is just a tiny peek at the promise I’m going to make you now. Your grandma told you about my promises, didn’t she?”
She did. She actually told me most of this, in her own way. I was just… too naïve, I guess, to understand what I was in for.
And now look at me. I’m over.
Syrsee is gone. She will never come back. I’m going to spend my life as the feeder to vampires.
“Oh, come now, girl. It’s not that bad.” Paul is stroking my cheek, angling his body into me. I open my eyes and watch his fingertips play with Ryet’s dark hair just below my chin.
I tilt my head up so I can see Paul’s face. “Beautiful.” He smiles at my description of him. “My grandma called you beautiful.”
“Well, she was as pretty as they come as well. Not as you saw her, of course. But when she was a small girl, she was so pretty. And her blood, Syrsee. It was intoxicating. I loved every drop I drank from her.” He pauses to gaze into my eyes, his smile—his whole face, actually—so gentle. Like he really is capable of loving me. “I do love you, Syrsee. I love them all. I am not a monster of hate. I am thankful. Grateful for you and what you give me. And I will give you back double.”
I close my eyes tight, his words suddenly reminding me of Zusi.
Then Paul is petting my head, soothing me with little kisses to my cheek. “You can’t blame them, Syrsee. The Guild is… well, the Guild. They are like bankers. Greedy fuckers who only want the blood. They stole some from you, did they?”
I open my eyes and nod up at him. My head is starting to clear a little. I’m still having trouble focusing, but at least I’m not seeing two of him.
“Black blood. They killed you to get it, did they?”
I nod again. Only this time I sob as well. I cannot fucking believe they did that to me. It feels like… rape.
“Yes.” Paul is stroking my cheek now. “It was certainly a violation. But I didn’t violate you, did I? No. I didn’t. I never took your blood. Not a single drop. You came here of your own free will. I never take it by force. It is always given willingly.”
“A promise,” I moan out.
“That’s right. An exchange. Even my little girls get to make a choice. I ask them sweetly if I can feed and then I ask what they would like in return. They want cookies, Syrsee. Or clothes. Or houses, once they get older. Money, men, sex, drugs. Sometimes they want my blood back. I don’t give them that. And that’s usually a sign that they are done with me and need to come here and feed Lucia, Josep, and the halfbreeds. They are typically young—ten or so—when they get that first itch of rebellion. I share them once they come here, but in the beginning, it is just me and them. I’m sorry that we never got that chance to bond. But you were made specifically for Ryet. I could not take from you. And I’m not going to lie, Syrsee, it was a struggle. That’s why I made the deal with the Guild. In some ways, I am weak. Fresh, young blood makes me weak. So if you need an excuse to save that friendship you’re craving so hard right now”—I look up and meet his eyes. Ice-blue eyes—“there it is, darling. I made them do it.”