Badass.
He opens the bottle and sticks the syringe in, filling it with water and then passes it to me. I attempt to locate the hole, fumbling a little with my weak and shaking hands. He places his large hands on mine and silently helps me guide the tip. The water on my throat is wonderful; it feels like forgiveness. I tip my head back to help make sure I don’t lose any with my lack of ability to swallow properly. Closing my eyes, I let him take the syringe back and refill it, repeating the process until half the bottle is gone and I have to refuse any more before I burst.
“Let’s get you inside. You need to rest.” I nod and attempt to get up on shaking legs, but he doesn’t let me suffer long before scooping me up bridal style and strutting effortlessly inside. There are men everywhere, some resting, others hanging blackout sheets on the walls to stop the sunlight from seeping in when it rises. The barn smells like hay and oil and old wood, dust motes dancing in the lamplight. He struts past many curious eyes to a back corner of the barn that’s the least populated and sets me on a hay bale in front of three other men.
“This is Derick, Enzo and Henry. Guys, this right here is Echo, the girl who saved our asses from those wolves.”
Enzo steps forward and bows his head. “It’s a pleasure, Miss.”
Derick and Henry step forward next. “We owe you, our lives,” Derick says steady, grave.
“In all my 465 days of life, I’ve never witnessed another species to lay down their own life for us. Thank you, and badass if I must say.” Henry smirks, young and cocky and grateful all at once.
“Wow,” I think to myself.
“She says, wow,” Kaiden attempts to mock my voice, and I snort a little, which echoes through my mask, making them laugh. The sound bounces inside the metal and comes out stranger, louder; it almost feels like I’m laughing from far away.
“She needs to rest, and I need to hunt for food for her; she hasn’t eaten in days. Protect her.”
Derick steps to him. “I’ll come with you; there’s not much time left before sunrise.” And they turn and leave, quick-footed shadows slipping through the gaps in the blackout sheets.
The cold is really starting to set in, and it sends a shiver through my body.
“Here,” Enzo takes off his jacket and hands it to me, which I gratefully take, but it’s not enough. The barn breathes in drafts; the hay is cold through the thin fabric of my shorts.
I hold up my fingers, making sure the jacket sleeves aren’t in the way, and allow a little of my power to seep through and form little flames on my fingers that I run up and down my legs. The heat skims my skin like a cat arching under a hand.
“Woah, doesn’t that hurt?” Henry’s wide eyes stare at me.
I shake my head no and poke my calf with the flame, showing him that my fire has no effect on me. The heat is a purr, a familiar friend. He reaches out slowly to my hand, but Enzo catches his arm.
“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t hurt her, but it will hurt anyone else. Did you not see the burnt meat on those wolves?”
“Oh, yeah, right.” He chuckles, sheepish, and tucks his hands into his pockets. The corner settles around us, soft voices, the crackle of fabric, the faint thud of footsteps overhead. For the first time since the cage, my body is warm, my belly holds water, and people who shouldn’t care have decided to. I rest my head against the rough wall and let my eyes slip closed, holding the ember of that feeling where no one can take it.
Nicholaus
I’m fucking furious. First one of my guys shoves her to her knees, my beloved, grinding gravel into skin until she bleeds. Then every motherfucker in here lifts his head to scent that blood, sweet as sin, like I just uncorked a vintage and told them to breathe it in. Then that girl almost sucks the life out of her, and now I have to watch as Kaiden of all people kneels at Echo’s side, wrapping her wounds, easing water past that damned mask. That should be me. But no. It can’t be. It won’t be. After I stormed inside, I waited on the catwalk for Jeremy to bring in Farah. The girl can’t control her bloodlust; if we don’t sate it, she’s a problem with fangs. When he finally wrestles her through the door, he’s got her arms pinned behind her back, and her pupils are blown like black moons. A trickle of Echo’s blood runs down the corner of Farah’s mouth. I am so fucking tempted to thumb it away and taste just how sweet she is. The bond claws under my ribs at the thought, hungry, possessive, like it wants to teach me what belongs to us.
“What do we do with her?” Jeremy asks, voice tight.
I drag a hand down my face and check the time. Only twenty minutes until sunrise. The light already itches along the seams of the blackout sheets.
“Well, she can’t stay here, not like this and we don’t have enough blood bags to sate her and still feed the men until the next blood bank,” I say. “You’re going to have to run her to the next town over and find some willing victims.”
“But the next town over is at least thirty minutes, even if we’re running full speed.”
“Well, I guess you’d better hurry, then.”
He doesn’t argue. He nods once, clamps his grip on Farah, and in a blink he’s gone, a streak of intent through the predawn. I believe in him. If he sets his mind to it, he will make it.