Page 29 of Afflicted

My head snaps around to look at Silas, and rage curdles my mouth. “Did you tell them I could be pregnant?”

“Are you?” His tone is strained, his shoulders tensing.

“No, of course not. Y’all force contraception on us, remember?”

“Contraception isn’t 100% effective, you’re a big girl, surely I don’t need to tell you that.” He crosses his arms over his chest, and he looks almost concerned as he raises his eyebrows. “You do not want these vamps in here if they take blood from you and you’re pregnant. They will tear you into bloody ribbons, Juliet.”

The way he says my name sends a shiver down my spine, slow and deliberate. I don’t like it.

“Well I’m not, so lucky me, huh?” I rub my eyes violently, as though I can push the tears back in and ignore them.

“Yeah, very lucky. The breeding centers are run mainly by humans for a reason.” His face darkens a little. “The vamps that work there have special training. For the rest of them, it’s too much.”

“What do you care?”

He lunges at me, leaning over me in the chair. “I don’t know,” he snarls, “I don’t know why I should care.” He seems to see my widened eyes, and his face softens, his head dropping a little.

“Get the hell away from me,” I hiss, pushing him away so I can get out of the chair. I spin around to face him, and god fucking dammit he’s tall, and broad, and so big he’s almost suffocating me in this cubicle. “I don’t know what you’ve told yourself about me, but you’re wrong, OK? I’m just a bloodbag, I’mnothing.”

Before I know what’s happening, he has me by the throat, pushing me back against the wall. He bares his fangs and snarls in my face.

“You’re not nothing.” His eyes move over my face, almost desperately. “You arenotnothing.”

I suck in a breath, and he loosens the grip of his enormous hand. His eyes drop to the floor, his head dipping towards mine until our foreheads are almost touching.

“You’re not nothing,” he murmurs, and his fingertips brush along the skin behind my ear. He lifts his eyes, and gazes at me. “I can’t have you talking about yourself that way.”

“Why?” I ask the question even as he moves closer, the way he’s looking at me makes me hurt in a way I haven’t hurt in years. I recognise it, because I’ve seen it in my own face so many times.

He’s in pain. He’s lonely.

I hate that I can sense it, that I can see, and that I feel sorry for him. I hate every single one of these fucking feeders, and yet I find myself raising my hand to touch him. But before I make it to his face, before I reach out and touch that face that keeps inching closer to mine, I let my hand drop.

“Let me go,” I say.

His eyes bore into mine, his hand staying right around the base of my throat.

“Silas, let me go.”

He sighs, his head dropping as he lets me go and steps away from me.

“I’m nothing to you.” I begin to back towards the curtain, watching as he tucks his hands into his pockets, his eyes still locked on the floor. “I don’t know what you think you see in me, but I’m not what you’re looking for. I don’twantto be what you’re looking for.”

He nods. “I know.”

“I want you to leave me alone.” I try to keep my tone measured, and not betray how fucking shaken I am after everything that happened in the last hour. “I want you to stay away from me. I want you to stop staring at me. I want you to pretend I don’t exist.”

“OK.” His eyes stay fixed on the floor.

I don’t know what else to say. He’s unmoving, just staring at the floor. I back out of the cubicle, and as soon as the curtain falls closed, I hurry out of the clinic and across the yard. I know I need to slow down after losing all that blood, but I push through the dizziness and break into a jog. I need to find Matt.

He’s working on a garden bed, raking straw across the soil, and when he spots me he raises his hand in a wave. Just the sight of him has me in tears again. He balks a little, dropping his rake and rushing towards me.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He asks as I collapse in his arms. “Did something happen?”

I try to speak but my throat is too tight, so I just hold on to him, shaking my head. “I’m OK,” I finally manage to squeak. “I’m OK, they made me do - do a t-test.”

“What test?”

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