Page 79 of Hot Blooded

The thrall shrunk back, pressing himself against the bricks as if he could simply sink through them.

Deciding to take a different tack, Tessa asked, “How long have you been on your own?”

The question seemed to catch the thrall off guard. He blinked at her.

“It’s been several months, at least, hasn’t it?”

Warily, the thrall nodded.

“I thought so. We met each other in April, I think. You were on the sidewalk, close to where I work.”

After a nervous pause, gaze darting to Amos and back to Tessa, he nodded again.

“Are you the one who’s been leaving gifts for me?”

Another nod.

“Will you tell me your name?”

He stared at her.

“My name’s Tessa,” she persisted. “What’s yours?”

She let the silence stretch out, waiting patiently. At last, the thrall opened his mouth as if to answer, but only produced a hoarse gasp.

“It’s alright,” Tessa said quickly. “Don’t try to speak if it hurts. Would you let me take a look at your throat? I’m a nurse.”

“Tessa,” Amos growled.

The thrall flinched at Amos’s growl, scrabbling against the bricks again, wearing himself out faster this time.

“You’re alright,” Tessa soothed. “It’s okay. Just take a breather.” She waited until his breathing more or less evened out. “We won’t touch you or hurt you, but if you’ll just follow us, we can lead you somewhere safe.”

The thrall’s gaze darted all around the alley before coming back to Tessa. Thin chest heaving, he panted something that almost sounded like a word.

“I’m sorry, I missed that,” Tessa said gently.

He spoke again, a faint rasp of sound, but once again, it meant nothing to Tessa’s ears. She shook her head apologetically.

He took a breath. “Phillipe,” he managed to whisper.

“Oh! That’s your name? Phillipe? That’s a beautiful—whoa!”

The thrall—Phillipe—made a sudden dash to Tessa’s left. It was so fast, she could hardly track him. Amos moved faster, but Tessa was in the way. The thrall bounded onto the dumpster behind Tessa and up onto the second-story roof above it.

Amos leapt up after him, but he stopped at the edge of the roof, unwilling to let Tessa out of his sight. With a sigh, he jumped back down. “He’s gone.”

“God, he’s in such bad shape,” Tessa said when they were back in the house. “He needs help.”

“He’s getting to the end of his rope,” Amos said grimly. “I’d guess he has a couple weeks at most before he wastes away entirely.”

“What happens then?”

“Death, basically. A vampire—or a thrall—can go for a long time without feeding. It’s a miserable existence, but it’s survivable. But not forever. If the thrall—”

“Phillipe.”

“If Phillipe hasn’t fed since Markov died, then he’s close to the end.”

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