Page 72 of The Cannibal

I pushed back a little, reaching behind me to bring one of his arms forward, extending it and tucking it under my arm as I tied a tourniquet around the forearm.

He didn’t argue, as long as he kept his other hand firmly balled in my skirts.

I tapped his arm, the veins bulging as I positioned the clean needle. Once I pressed it into the skin, the black fluid rushed through the tube and into the second apparatus, the cylinder filling slowly. I removed the tourniquet to let it flow, his hand in a fist just as I taught him all those years ago.

My mind wandered to our first lab session. I think both of us were tense, unsure of each other. Both of us had an inherent reason to distrust the other, yet we couldn’t stay away. Now here we were, not a word spoken, doing exactly what I wanted him to.

Even if he may still be angry, he couldn’t stay away.

A knock against the open door.

Luka stood there, spare cloths in hand. “Phoebe said you needed these.”

Silas didn’t let go of my skirt, but I didn’t have to look to know he was staring bullets at our guest. I didn’t think Luka could see what Silas was doing, but the energy was tense either way.

I pressed on Silas’s arm to pull the needle, using my last cloth to press into the wound.

“Hold this here,” I instructed. Only then did he drop my skirts and step away to lean on the counter. The silent observer, lately.

“Sit down, I need samples from you.” I grabbed the apparatus I used on Phoebe and began to clean and irrigate it.

“Blood, yeah?” Luka rolled up his sleeve, keeping Silas in his peripheral.

“Yes, and venom next.” It was like we were waiting for someone to snap. The tension was palpable. No one really could predict Silas’s mood anymore, I couldn’t blame them for the tension.

Luka made a face when I added venom.

“What is it? Shy?” I joked, as I used one of the clean cloths he brought to dry the glass cylinder of the apparatus.

“He’s impotent,” Silas said.

“Low potency.” Luka stressed the words to Silas before looking back to me, his face holding such discomfort I’d suspect he was having another headache. “I’m an outlier. Not sure if that affects your sample group.”

I smacked Luka upside the head.

“What was that?” He bared his teeth at me.

“For all the times you bit me knowing you had no venom,” I glared. “Now, would you like to draw your own blood?”

He took a deep breath before snatching the clean needle and tube as I tied the tourniquet around his arm.

I caught a smug smile in the corner of my eye.

“You didn’t even tell me about the spines until it was too late,” I snapped at Silas.

He bit his lip and looked away, as if that would hide his clear amusement. Pests. The both of them.

“Leave.” I glared at Silas, then turned to Luka. “You as well when you finish.”

“Nurses usually give out cookies for blood draws,” Luka said stubbornly.

“Then find yourself a nurse,” I scoffed. “You should be worried if I’m feeding you anything in a lab.”

“Case in point,” Luka mumbled, flexing his hand open and closed to encourage the blood.

I reached back to pull open a drawer, spotting a couple vials clipped together. A violet hue, less viscous than blood but more so than water.

Unmarked but unmistakably my signature poison. I realized now that making this was a risk to myself. Handling it too. I closed the drawer slowly before opening the next one for the pipettes.