Page 52 of Club Blood

“Where didyou learn to do this?” Cecelia asked as we sat cross legged on my king sized mattress. I had her palm in my lap with my suture kit at my side. I unwrapped the gauze and saw her wince as she eyed the wound. It looked nastier than it actually was. I kept a wet cloth to clean away most of the dirt and debris.

“I’ve learned a lot in my immortal life,” I ruffled through the pack, pulling out a small vial of bubbled liquid.

“That’s a cop out answer,” she chided, glancing warily at the vial as I popped its top off with my teeth, “What is that?”

“This… is vampire saliva.”

I could scent her fear as I neared the bottle to her skin, “You cannot turn with saliva alone,” I said, assuming the fear came from her resentment for immortal life, “For that you would need my blood in your system. It’s been long enough since our…exchange that I doubt you have any of my blood left in your body. This will only speed up the healing process of your hand. It’s not an exact science, and the stitches will still have to do their job, but it speeds it up exponentially. I expect you to be sore beyond measure, but the stitches will fall out overnight. I can’t promise you won’t scar.”

“I don’t mind the scars,” she whispered, almost to herself.

I hummed lightly as I let the vial of my own saliva fall across the wound. She winced at the coolness, but only looked on quizzically as I focused. I watched too as it worked, pulling slowly at the ends of the torn skin, mending itself. Saliva acted as well as a numbing injection, thankfully, so when I threaded my needle and started stitching up her wound, we fell into a comfortable silence while her palm rested in my lap.

“I learned in one of the wars,” I said suddenly, as we neared the last stitch. Cecelia looked into my eyes in question. “I worked as a nurse. I fixed wounds much larger than this.”

“Were you already part of the Known?”

I nodded. “It was a time before Known were active among society. If I’d had lost my cover, they would have tried to kill me. I’m sure some of the other nurses noticed, though. How could I heal as quickly as I did? It was a mystery no one seemed to want to solve. I saved lives, so they turned a blind eye.”

She was silent for a few moments, registering the story that I didn’t remember ever crossing my lips before. Cecelia surprised me by leaning forward to kiss me. It was sweet, and gentle.

“What happened to you that made you so hard?” She asked genuinely as she returned to her former position.

It took everything in me not to turn away from her, but as I finished the last stitches and leaned in to bite off the line of sutures, I closed my eyes.

“The world is hard for a woman. I became what I am because the world didn’t let me become anything else.”

She pondered that a moment. I thought she would have said more, but she seemed to accept the answer well enough.

“If saliva could have healed me, why didn’t you heal me before? Why wait until now, with a vial?”

“I don’t know if I can answer that. Maybe I just didn’t want to scare you so bad. Come, sleep now, Cecelia. You can share my bed tonight. We will talk more in the morning.”

She nodded, not once questioning my vague response. Instead, she looked at her hand, which already looked much cleaner and less inflamed, and scooted back towards the headboard, pulling the comforter over herself. Looking as comfortable as she had, with the adrenaline wearing thin, I had no doubt she’d be out within minutes.

I sat up from the bed, smiling at her softly as I walked towards the ensuite. When Cecelia was nothing but a mess of snores again, I pulled my phone from my bosom and dialed a number I’d remember in my sleep.

“Warren,” I said before he could reply. I was hoping to catch him before he made it to the basement, “I take it back. Cecelia needs to learn how to protect herself, and you’re the only one I trust to do it.”

There was a second of silence before I heard his hearty chortle, “Oh princess, this is going to be so much fun. What a perfect second gift for your new Second.”

I could have sworn I heard a sound akin to nails on a chalkboard before the line went dead.

29

WARREN

Before I taughtCece how to defend herself against my kind, I had some business to attend to. Making my way down the dark stairwell to the basement underneath Mercy’s estate, I dragged my fingernails against the walls in an eerie warning to our prisoner.

Hooked up to the wall in thick, heavy silver chains was the Known who had decided to lay his hands on Cecelia—a member of our coven by default—even if she was human. I would say that he would live to regret ever going near her, but the truth was, I wasn’t going to let him live long enough to feel much of anything.

But first, a little torture.

Staring up at me, violet eyes shot through with veins of black and red, the vampire hissed. His skin looked almost paper thin, though that was on account of the silver solution we had been shoving down his throat every couple of hours. In small amounts or to the initial touch, silver was nothing. But ingesting it, or exposing yourself to it for a prolonged period of time, was the vampire equivalent of eating poison ivy.

“Hello, Jonah. Such a pleasure to see you.”

Gathering saliva and venom at the back of his throat, the bloodrat spat at my shoes, missing by a fraction of an inch. “Fuck. You.”

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