Page 151 of Blood Lovers

I look around, almost certain that I will find Paul leaning against the wall, arms crossed smugly, smiling at me.

But I don’t. There’s no one here but me and Ryet and when I glance at the thick, wooden door it’s bolted from the inside.

A moan makes me jump and look down to my right and find Ryet curled up in a fetal position, shivering so hard his teeth are chattering. I reach out and touch his face, but pull my hand back immediately.

He feels like ice.

He feels like death.

I let out a long breath, relieved. Because that means I won’t have to fight him when I make him drink me as I die.

We’re both gonna die today. And the vampire Paul will be trapped behind a purple veil forever. This is the best I can do for this godforsaken world. It will have to be enough.

I scramble off the bed and the memory of what happened tries to rear its ugly head. But I push it down.

I don’t have time to reminisce about last night and I certainly don’t have time to have feelings about it. I need to get this over with before I lose my nerve.

I step off the bed and my foot slips on something slick. I’m already putting pressure on it, so I slide with it and end up banging my head on the footboard as I fall.

“What the fuck?” I mutter this under my breath as I turn over, realize I’ve fallen into a pool of blood, and come face to face—literally eye to eye—with Lucia.

Or rather, Lucia’s head.

I lean over, gag, and then spit up blood. Which is enough to make me gag again.

I was drinking him. Oh, God help me, I was drinking him.

Despite having a very good reason to wallow in my current circumstances, I don’t have time to fucking wallow. I was maybe a little hesitant about killing myself, but that whole last conversation with Paul comes rushing back and yeah… there’s really no other way out of this.

I can’t remember it all but I heard the words ‘darkness,’ and ‘babies,’ and… well, we all know where it goes from there.

And I’m not gonna do it. I will not do it.

Being a feeder would be bad enough, but a breeder? To some kind of dark spirit?

No. No, no, no.

My boots stick in the already congealing blood once I get to my feet, and I kick Lucia’s head out of my way. That’s not her. She’s gone now. She has escaped this nightmare but I’m still here, so I don’t feel bad about this kick.

I stumble over to the armoire, frantically searching for a syringe and the drug Lucia was going to give me before she lost her head, and find two bottles of clear liquid. They are not the kind of bottles I’ve seen in my college health center. They are the kind of bottles I’ve only seen in the Guild library.

On one, the label reads ‘Nightcall.’ The other label says ‘Blackshade.’ Both are about half full.

I have no idea what these drugs do.

I look on the floor. Lucia had the syringe. I saw it. There was no label on it, but I don’t need to know what the drug is called. She prepared it. Whatever is in that syringe, it’s the right one.

I don’t immediately see it, but when I get on my knees and look under the bed, there it is.

I grab it, stand back up, and look at the needle. There’s no cap. So obviously she was about to inject me when… something stopped her.

Paul, probably.

Ryet moans again and I look over at him, panicked. Are his eyes open? Is he watching me prepare to kill him?

No. He’s not sleeping, I know that much because he’s writhing a little, his back arching, then bucking. Like he’s in a lot of pain. So he’s in a coma or something. Suddenly he whispers, “Jane,” in a very soft, soft voice. Like… like he’s pleading with her over something.

Jane. That was the wife.