Chapter 34

I knew something was wrong the moment I opened my eyes.

It was dark, though I could see perfectly. I peered up at the ceiling I recognized as Simon's and took a deep breath. I thought I should have been exhausted after the sex we'd had, but I felt… exhilarated. There was a strange burning in my mouth and pulsing through my veins, too.

"She didn't know what she was agreeing to!" A familiar voice assaulted my senses, too loud and too close even though I was alone in this room.

"Lucinda is a consenting adult. I only did what she asked of me," a calmer voice responded.

I knew them. How did I know them?

I sucked in a deep breath, moving my hand first, then my arm. I sat up in bed and looked around. I thought I remembered falling asleep naked, but I wore panties and a large shirt. I ran my fingers over the fabric, surprised at how soft it felt.

"She's awake," the second voice said. Simon.

"Indy!" The first voice squealed. I placed my hands over my ears. I recognized that voice too. My sister—Addie.

"Easy, my love. You remember what it was like to wake up." There was a third person here. Holland. "Let Simon get her, and keep your voice down."

"Over my dead body will you go anywhere near my sister again." I wasn't sure I'd ever heard Addie sound so furious.

Then, everything clicked into place.

I remembered why I came to Simon's apartment last night. I remembered feeling spent from the pleasure he offered me and the feeling of his fangs on my throat. And then… then, I remembered falling asleep.

I looked at my hands. They looked the same.

Was I dead? Was it over?

"Simon," I whispered, pulling my knees to my chest.

The door clicked open, and light poured in from the living room. Too bright. I flinched away from it, covering my eyes as they watered from the shock. The door closed again, cutting off the light.

"You bastard, let me see my sister!" Addie's voice was too loud. It was like needles piercing my brain.

"Adalyn, keep your voice down." Holland's voice was better. He seemed to be whispering, but I heard him as clearly as if he was sitting right next to me.

I raised my head to see Simon standing near the door. It was dark in the bedroom, as it always was, but I could make out every one of his features—from the endless green of his eyes to the small smile line on his cheek. His shirt was wrinkled; it was the same one he'd worn last night. His hair was in disarray and his brow furrowed as he watched me.

"Am I dead?" Even my own voice was too loud. I shrank into myself.

Simon crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, holding out his hand. I took it, gasping at the sensation of my palm gliding against his. It was like I could feel him with every nerve ending.

"Yes, my darling. You are dead," Simon murmured. "Your sister is here for you. Would you like to see her?"

"No," I said, flinching away. She was too loud. Everything was too loud. Who was mumbling? Laughing? Who's footsteps were those?

"Indy," Addie breathed on the other side of the door.

"Can you make it darker?" I breathed, looking around the room. "Quieter?"

Simon sighed. "You can hear the neighbor's TV and someone walking down the street. I hear them too."

I whimpered, covering my ears. "My head hurts."

"I know, my darling," he breathed. "I'm going to get you something to drink."

I caught his wrist and shook my head. "Don't leave me."

Simon frowned, glancing toward the door before sitting next to me. I grabbed his shirt, pulling him close and wrapping myself around him.

"It's okay," he murmured. "I'm right here."

A knocking noise. Someone laughed. Water splashed. Simon's heartbeat. Addie and Holland's breathed. Addie tapped her fingers on her thigh. Too much. Too much. Too much. I covered my ears, sobbing weakly.

Simon wrapped his arms around me. Even the sound of fabric brushing against fabric made me want to scream.

"Holland," Simon said in barely a whisper. "Can you please bring me the two blood bags in the refrigerator?"

"I could do that," Addie said. She might as well have bellowed her words. I cringed.

"Adalyn," Holland scolded.

She clamped her mouth shut. I heard her teeth connect and winced.

I listened as Holland stood off the couch and walked into the kitchen. There was a painful scraping noise as he pulled something from the fridge, then footsteps again as he approached the bedroom.

"Close your eyes," Simon warned me half a second before the handle turned. I did, burying my face in his chest.

I waited until the door clicked shut to look up at Holland. He set his jaw, but his eyes were soft as he crossed the room. My eyes shifted from him to what he had in his hand as he put two hospital bags of blood on the nightstand, and I swallowed thickly.

"I'll expect a call once she's rested," Holland said quietly to Simon. "And updates until then."

"Of course," Simon said.

Holland turned his attention to me. "There were better ways to go about this, but what's done is done. Everything will be okay." I pursed my lips, closing my eyes again when he left the room. "Come on, Adalyn, there's nothing we can do here now."

"The fuck we can't!" Addie squealed. "That's my sister."

I flinched.

"Yes." Holland's tone never wavered. "Your sister, who you are hurting with your loud voice. My love, please, let's go."

Finally, Addie followed him.

The apartment was blissfully quiet a moment later. I listened to their footsteps down the staircase. They faded as they got outside and moved away from the building. I tilted my head, surprised at how clearly I could hear them. So, that was how Simon knew to wait for me at the door.

Simon shifted slightly, handing me one of the blood bags. "I thought you'd like them better cold."

I almost smiled at him as I took it. The gesture was sweet. I turned it over in my hand, surprised I felt none of the repulsion I expected—only curiosity.

I turned my attention to him. "I don't understand. All I remember is falling asleep."

Simon drew in a breath, guilt flashing across his face. "Do you want to know?" he murmured.

"Yes," I said.

"I took enough of your blood for you to fall unconscious, so you wouldn't feel it when I snapped your neck."

My hand flew to my throat, sliding around the back to feel my spine. It was flawless, of course; the damage Simon inflicted was long gone. Simon watched me acutely, like he was waiting for me to panic or move away from him. A part of me wanted to; the other reminded me I wanted this.

"Thank you," I said, letting my hand fall. "For taking away the fear and the pain."

Recognition softened his eyes and he nodded. "You're welcome, Lucinda."

My eyes fell back to the chilled blood bag in my hands, and I took a deep breath. Simon gripped the corner, leaning down and biting into it.

And everything changed.

Blood leaked out of the small holes he'd made, and my whole body coiled with desire. It smelled delicious; the scent overpowered all my senses until all I could think about was blood.

I closed my mouth over Simon's bite marks, squeezing lightly. Blood poured into my mouth.

Pain.

I yanked back, nearly dropping the bag as pain erupted in my upper jaw. Blood leaked down my chin. I gripped my face, sobbing.

"Help," I cried.

Simon tugged my hands away from my skin and held them captive within his own. "Breathe, my darling."

It took all my attention and self control to breathe in deeply. I was still trembling, but after a few deep breaths, the sobbing stopped. I went to lick my lips, but my tongue grazed something sharp.

Fangs. I had fangs.

I pressed my tongue against them curiously, surprised at how easily they cut through the skin. There was a tingling feeling, and I realized my tongue was healing. Simon held up the blood bag again.

I was starving.

The realization hit me like a tidal wave, and I snatched the bag from Simon. This time, I sank my own teeth into it, squeezing as blood filled my mouth. I swallowed desperately, relishing in the warm strength that coursed through me as I drank. The pounding in my head subsided, and the burning sensation in my veins faded.

Simon handed me the second one the instant the first was gone. I could feel the blood—thick and sticky—leaking down the front of my jaw and neck, but I paid no attention to it. I wanted more. I wanted it all.

I caught sight of my reflection in the window. Black veins scarred my face, and there was a distinctive red line around my irises. I bared my fangs at my reflection, then lowered my mouth back to the blood bag and drank until there was nothing left.