Page 30 of Of Shadows and Blood

“A rarity, yes. You are rare.”

I hold my palms before me. “The zaps,” I whisper. “I felt them at the cottage. The door, I mean. This feels impossible.”

He peers at my palms as well. “All of that feeling will not matter if you choose not to feed.”

Cedric reads this battle on my face and walks to a chest upon a glass case. Cold air rushes out as he lifts the lid and bottles clink together. He pulls out a bottle similar to the one that lay shattered on the floor of the cottage. Easily, he uncorks it with his mouth and brings it over. “Do you smell it?”

My nostrils are once again reminded of the smells that overwhelm me everywhere I go. From the breeze on the grounds, the blood from the fight, the containers of it in the cottage. There is no denying it.

“Close your eyes; tell me what you smell.”

I turn to face the window again, placing my hands on my lap.

First, I smell the elys. Its scent gives me peace and joy, familiarity. That scent is quickly replaced with wine, from Cedric. Then I smell his blood, his essence coursing through his body. Vampyr have heartbeats, and blood, obviously. But there is so much that sets them apart that I can tell already. They’re beautiful, nearly perfect and slightly taller than the average human. They obviously bleed because I can recall the smell of his blood – fresh like a forest but with a rich spice, like cinnamon. As soon as I recognize his blood, the scent of other blood overwhelms my throat as it had at the cottage. My mouth aches as if on cue.

“I can smell it,” I manage to say, gripping my nightgown to contain the energy surging through me. It feels as if it is urging me to move to its source immediately.

“Which blood? You have some on you, I can smell it,” he inhales deeply.

“Yours.”

He feels closer now. “You can drink the blood of other vampyr, but we only feed with human blood.”

“I also smell it on you,” I open my eyes.

“Oh,” he moves his hand through his messy locks. “The fight, we rolled around in some dropped chalices from the court. You need to feed, Liv,” he urges. I don’t miss the weight of my name on his tongue.

“And if I don’t?” I question, wondering about the alternative. If there is one.

Cedric stands up and walks around to my side of the bed, crouching down in front of me. He reaches hesitantly for my hands on my lap, just as he did earlier. I allow him once more.

“You will die.”

“But you said I was immortal?”

“Even immortality has its limits.”

“You said I was half-vampyr, half-cess. What does that mean?”

“It means you have a higher chance of dying as the cess are not completely immortal. Magic sustains their lifespan. Your only benefit from them is the ability to consume human food and to wield magic.” I stare down at him, a face of confusion as I sort through this information.

“I tried to eat human food earlier,” I admit, reminded of the way it tasted coming back out.

“A failed attempt, I imagine?”

I nod.

Cedric continues. “You are in your most fragile state despite our efforts. Avonde informed me that if you do not feed on blood, you may only have a week or so before you shut down and wither away, slowly and painfully. Desiccation, I’ve seen it before only once. It is neither pretty nor graceful. It is a horrid way to die.”

I imagine myself indulging in the forbidden liquid, sipping it down like wine. My stomach responds, growling for it, yet I’m faintly repulsed.

“Try, please,” he says, handing me the flask and uncorking it. “And don’t say you can’t. You can. It’s your most innate function.”

My stomach rumbles and I gulp, trying to keep the hunger down. A bead of sweat rolls down my face and my body lights up, practically begging for it. I’ve been here before, in a dream of mine. My psyche has apparently been leaving hints this whole time. But I can’t focus on that now.

There is no hiding my fear at what this means…

The liquid looks darker in the shadow of the bed so I raise it to the light from the moon and swirl its contents around, noting the thickness of it. Thicker than wine or water.