Page 114 of Blood Lovers

He doesn’t come after me, or call out, or anything like he usually does when I make my predictable escapes.

Because he knows. He doesn’t have to anymore.

You’re dying, Ryet. She’s been feeding you for days.

I push through the door, banging it on the outside wall, and there she is. Coming out of a little grove of fir trees, her face flushed, her eyes wide.

“Ryet?”

I shake my head at her. “Who are you?” My voice is trembling with anger and shame.

“Listen to me! I didn’t know!”

“You didn’t know what?”

“I didn’t know who you were—”

“You’re the witch. You’re the Black fucking witch!”

“I didn’t know!”

“Like fucking hell you didn’t! I was chasing you! And you… in the truck, outside the diner. Crying. Vulnerable. Waiting for me!”

“No! That’s not how it happened!”

“How? How did you do this to me?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You were feeding me, Syrsee!” I’m screaming these words and they echo through the valley. Shaking the snow off the trees around me.

“You were sick!”

“No.” It comes out like a laugh. “No. You’re the sick one, Syrsee. You’re the sick one! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“You were—”

“Fuck that! Who cares! You fed me! You gave me Black blood. Do you have any idea what that means?”

She just stares at me with wide eyes.

She doesn’t know. I understand this. She was probably not in on it. Paul tricked her too. Somehow, some way, he tricked her into feeding me.

But I don’t care if it was an accident.

“You have turned me into him, Syrsee. That’s what you’ve done.” And just as I say this, Paul comes through the open door of the greenhouse, smiling. Satisfied. Fixing the collar of his white button-down shirt like he’s coming out of a hotel room after fucking a high-class whore.

“You’re so dramatic, Ryet. You were born for this. You were bred, blood lover. You were bred. For me. For her. For this moment. For our future. For the new line. For the new empire. None of this was an accident.” He stares intently at me, his eyes flickering with color. Red, orange, yellow. His words are stinging. Meant to sting. “You. Have always. Been mine.”

I turn away, walking quickly, making my escape. My fingers jingling the truck keys in my jacket pocket.

Syrsee calls out, running after me as I make my way along the pathways towards the parking garage. She grabs my arm, but I turn, jerking her off me, baring my teeth at her with a viciousness I have never felt before. “Don’t. Touch me.”

She recoils, putting her hands up in front of her face, like I might strike her.

This fills me with shame, so I just turn and lean into my retreat.

And this time she doesn’t come after me.