Sweet Blooded

Eight: Poison (part II)

It didn’t work. 

I realized it first when I felt the ache in my stomach and my chest. It was strong and steady. It made me want to wrap my arms around myself, but I couldn’t move them.

I didn’t fight the wave of sadness, I let the tears fall. They ran down my cheeks and wet the pillow beneath my head. It wasn’t that complicated of a plan. How did I fail? 

“Death isn’t always an easy escape.”

I blinked my eyes open and was met with the ceiling. An orange glow danced across my range of view. The fireplace. A glance to the side at the bookshelves lining the walls confirmed that I was in the study still. 

I sniffed, turning my face side to side. I was laid out on the sofa, and Gabriel was settled in an armchair on the other side of the coffee table. He leaned back in the chair, his ankle crossed over the opposite knee and his hands curled into fists on each arm. 

A quick glance at the coffee table and I saw it- the green box sat there. I swallowed, and looked away from the rat poison and back to Gabriel. 

“I don’t think the twins, nor I, have treated you all that poorly, considering that you are just a human.” He moved forward, his elbow on his knees. “

I shook my head in agreement. “No, it’s not that.” My tongue felt thick and heavy, the words difficult to get out.

“Then why did you do it?” he asked, one brow arched slightly higher than the other.

I closed my eyes at the question, feeling a steady thrum behind my eyes that was the sign of an oncoming migraine. 

“Look at me, and answer, Evelyn.” The words sounded rough and ground out.

I opened my eyes again slowly. “Why aren’t I dead yet?” 

“Answer the question.”

“That is the answer. Why aren’t I dead yet? I should have been dead within the first week I was here. But instead, you’re just prolonging my existence. Why?”

“Because I’m not done with you yet.”

I scoffed. I actually scoffed, and I saw his glare sharpen when he heard it. But I didn’t care, I looked back at the ceiling angrily, blinking back more tears.

“Do you really want to die?” he demanded.

“I don’t want to live like this.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I was ready to die. And then it didn’t happen, no matter how many times I thought I was getting close. I just want it to be over.” My voice was one long sob. I brought my hands up, covering my face, digging my palms into my closed eyes. I felt like my head was splitting in half. 

Large, cold hands gripped my wrists, pulling them away from my face. I blinked up into his empty, silver eyes. He blinked at me silently as I tried to pull my hands from his grasps. But he tightened his hold, leaning closer, so that his nose was nearly touching mine. I froze beneath his gaze as it went from icy to frostbitten.

“If you ever try anything like that again, Evelyn, you will fail. I promise it. You can try to end your life any way you can imagine, as many times as you want, but you will wake up. And when you wake up, you won’t be propped up on a couch in my study with a warm fire and an IV drip. You will be chained up in a cell, and I will make your life a living hell. Then, you’ll truly have a reason to wish you were dead.”     

I stilled as he spoke quietly, his voice a deadly promise. He continued to look down at me, expectantly. Finally, I nodded to signify that I understood. He then sat down on the couch next to where I lay and placed both my hands into one of his. He wrapped his now free hand into my hair, and pulled, forcing me to tilt my head back.

I swallowed, realization sinking in. His breath was warm on my collarbone, his usual spot. But I stilled when it began traveling up my neck, trying to look down to see what he was doing. But I couldn't, not with his hand knotted in my hair. 

His breath stopped its northern trek just below my jawline, midway between the point of my chin and my ear. And that’s where he placed the tips of his fangs.

I grunted quietly in panic, straining violently against his hold. 

“Be still,” he growled. 

But I couldn’t- not even if I tried. He pierced my flesh without any more warning, and I screamed. 

This was an assault. This was punishment. It was painful. Who knew that spot along the jawline was so tender and sensitive? But it was. I could already feel the bruises as he drank. I continued to struggle, and to my surprise he released my hands. I immediately began to shove against his chest and his neck-anything that I could reach. I soon understood why he let go of my hands; It was to show how powerless I was. I might as well have been shoving against the stone walls outside the castle. He was immovable. 

I was actually doing more damage to myself. All the fighting I was doing was just digging his fangs around in my flesh, deeper and wider. I finally stilled, my hands knotted up in the wool sweater he’d been wearing as I panted, trying to catch my breath. 

In a shorter time than I expected, he was done. He took my hands in one of his again, licking his thumb to seal the wound along my jawline. I flinched at the pressure from his thumb on what was most definitely a rapidly forming bruise. 

I watched him, waiting for him to tell me I could go back to bed, curl up, and escape into my nightmares. But in an unexpected turn of events, he raised his thumb back to his lips and bit down, drawing his own blood.

I started to sit up, furrowing my brows, but then he shoved that thumb into my mouth faster than I had time to realize what was going on. 

I let out a muffled scream, but he released my hands to hold my head still. 

“Drink it,” he commanded.

I stared at him, knowing full well I was giving him an incredibly disrespectful look of bewilderment. He misread my expression.

“It won’t turn you - it has healing properties. It’s how I removed the poison from your system just hours ago. And it will help you replenish your blood faster as well.”

I refused to swallow, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. He tightened his grasp on my head, and I winced. 

“Drink it.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Obediently - reluctantly - I swallowed. I had to swallow the wave of nausea soon after.

He withdrew his thumb from my mouth. A feeling of warmth trickled down my throat and spread throughout my chest. I blinked in surprise, as I did feel better. The headache was even fading. 

Just when I thought it was over, he grabbed my head and angled my face the opposite way, and swiftly bit down on the opposite side of my jaw. 

“Why!” Another scream tore from my throat, followed shortly by a sob. I grabbed hold of his sweater again, kneading the fabric out of pure frustration and anger. Other than that movement, I forced myself to lie still, trying to relax and ease the pain.

Gabriel moved his hands to the sides of my face as he fed, stroking the tears from the corners of my eyes with his thumbs. I closed my eyes tightly, waiting for the darkness to swallow me whole.

Mercifully, I didn’t have to wait long.