Page 91 of Club Blood

Taking my face in her palms, she kissed me again. Unlike the seduction of before, this was tender and filled with the raw emotion that Mercy hated to display. I could scent the love, the sorrow, on her; I could feel how sorry she was.

“I meant what I said, back atAmbrosia. You are a beautiful and powerful force to be reckoned with. You are a queen, Cecelia.”

She is not a pet. She is a fucking Queen.

Mercy’s words to Carlisle flashed in my mind. Only an hour ago, we had been bursting into a room to find out that she had been planning to kill herself. No, kill wasn’t the right word.

Sacrifice. She was going to sacrifice herself for me.

The fear I had felt in that moment before my eyes locked on her – it was indescribable. I didn’t even know the extent of how worried I should have been, my only thought was that she was in danger, which was enough to send me spiraling.

Mercy portrayed the cold, heartless queen. It was a reputation she had built over decades to earn her throne. But for me? She was willing to give it all up, just to save me.

To atone. To apologize. To prove her love.

The realization hit me harder than I cared for. I loved her. Even if I hated what she had done, her choices along the way; I still loved her. Mercy had killed me, and saved me. It was crazy and illogical and real.

I kissed her back softly, just for a second. Long enough for her to know nothing was decided yet. If she couldn’t bear to live without me, there was no way on earth I would be able to face living without her. We were fucked up and dysfunctional and it made me love her more.

“If I’m a queen, I should make it known that I don’t get beaten down so easily. Narcissa wanted me to stop being a weak little human. How do you think she’ll react to seeing my transformation right before I rip her shriveled, black heart out of her chest?”

I looked around me. Henrik, Warren, and Mercy were all grinning, the latter staring at me with adoration that caught the back of my throat.

I would show Narcissa exactly what the consequences were for fucking with a queen and her kingdom.

48

NARCISSA

I was livingin a world of blackness.

Going in and out of consciousness was not something I particularly enjoyed, but their constant dosing had my head in a never ending fog. I wasn’t sure how many days it had been, or how many hours. I kept time only by counting the soft drips from the ceiling in a corner to my right.

We were at drip somewhere after six hundred thousand.

I knew these cells as well as I’d known my own bed. At one point in time they were a comfort to me. So many memories of blood and torture. Feeding and sex, and at one point, a weekend’s worth of all of the above. Mercy was keen to let me do as I pleased with the prisoners that we housed here. And oh, they were a delight to torment. The type of people that graced this cold, wet group of cells were all different shapes and sizes, and had incredibly varied reasons for giving me reason for play time.

At one point, Mercy loved to partake in the bloodshed with me. Before she met thatgirl, thatwhore, she made weekends of cutting off limbs and killing the very people we hated together.

I sighed and practically felt as my breath echoed and bounced off of the bricks surrounding me. Instantly my body caved in on itself, my arms pulling against the iron chains that held my hands together. The walls closed in around me, I could see their outlines in the dark as they got closer, and closer, and closer still. My breathing came in far shallower pants and I felt like I was running out of air down here. My mind was playing tricks on me, replaying memories like a projection screen in front of me.

* * *

“Baby, baby, keep doing that,”she panted as I dragged my tongue around her areola in slow, sensual circles. They were sharp and pointed, and I always loved how her body responded to mine. We were lying flat on the cool stones, the icy feeling of the rock assisting in turning her on.

My fangs lined her sternum and I dragged them towards her neck, playing with a tendril of black hair as I kissed the soft spot near her collarbone.

“Fuck, Narcissa, I need to taste you,” she practically begged me.

If my queen called for me, I would answer. I covered her eyes with my open palm, and lowered my plump lips to hers. Sucking lightly, I explored her mouth with my tongue, outlining her teeth and breathing in the very air she did. God, I loved this woman more than I loved the blood I fed on.

I lifted myself up and positioned us so that her face was nose deep into my cunt, and mine into hers. I lowered myself on top of her, and we sat there for a moment. She could move me if she wanted, but she didn’t. She wanted this, she wantedme.

“You smell absolutely mouthwatering,” she whispered into my clitoris, her mouth placed precariously close, her breathing heavy.

I moaned.

* * *

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