Page 44 of Peacock Me Like a Hurricane

“Yes.”

“Hypothetically, if I had to hide out from the Company squads, you wouldn’t mind me using your basement?”

“I might even be convinced to bring you food if you asked nicely.”

“That’s the nurturing part of you. So, if I keep you, you won’t purposely hurt me, and I’ll promise not to go off half-cocked without getting your side of things.”

“I would do everything in my power to keep from hurting you again.”

“I hope so, because this twice in two days shit is for the more foul birds.” I stand, still shaky and my mind is getting fuzzy. “Give me your hand. Be careful— you can bring the blanket.” Shestands, letting the blanket loose for the first time in what seems like hours. I hold her hand delicately and look into her eyes. “I love you. I forgive you and I hope you forgive me. I have had my issues resolved in what I believe to be an honest and sincerely repentant manner. I endeavored to treat you with the love and respect I feel for you. If you agree to these points, we can go from here.”

Swallowing hard, she looks at her hand, not at me. “I forgive you. I love you. I never want to lose you.”

I squeeze her fingers tentatively and hold my breath long enough to bend to her lips and brush them with mine. “I love you, mate.” I apparate us to the bedroom, but it drains my reserve and I stumble. “I have to give Theodora credit. She does excellent work.” The door is fixed, the blood is gone, and the glass vase from yesterday has been replaced.

“She does, but I think you need to sit down.”

“I feel like I need to die, but at least I cleared the air between us.” I struggle to breathe and finally give in. “Can you fix me?”

“I can.” She walks me to the bed slowly, then climbs on, finally shed of that damned blanket. “You gotta drink, though. No pretty popping closed stuff for this. Can you do it without going too far?”

“Shit, I think I punctured a sodding lung. You mean without draining you?”

“At least, without killing me.”

“I’ll hear your heart; I won’t kill you.” I look at her seriously, wanting her to know I mean it.

She nods, flicking out her claws and slicing my disgusting clothes off first. The peeling opens more wounds, but it has to happen, so I bite down so I don’t scream.

“Sod a dog. I did a number on myself this time.” Paling visibly, she blinks away tears, and it makes my heart hurt. “Shh,baby. It’s okay. You’re going to fix me right up. It’s not your fault.”

Her jaw clenches and I know she doesn’t believe me, but she keeps studying me as I get settled. “What would be easiest for you to...? Where do you want to…?”

“Feed?” I ask, my eyes teasing her gently. She’s being so cautious and so quiet. It’s unnerving. I worry, but I can’t focus on it enough to suss out what’s wrong.

“Yes.”

I look up at her mating wound wistfully, preferring the re-affirmation there, but I’m not sure I can maneuver that way. My eyes cut back to hers. “I know I’m all crumpled, baby. I know things have been hard, but I love you. I want you anywhere I can get you.”

Smiling a little, she nods. “I mean, what would be most comfy? You are definitely crumpled and I don’t want to make it worse.”

The blood loss pulls at my mind, and I sigh. “Your wrist might be easiest on us both.”

Lying on her side, she holds out her wrist and I notice another ugly set of healed, re-healed, and fresh scars that I haven’t seen before. I didn’t notice those in the past. I can’t help but wonder where they came from and why she doesn’t let them heal.

She’s told me that scars only stay when she consciously forces them to. I haven’t asked about the large one on her sternum, nor the ones on her ankle or lower tummy. Those two look to be healed tattoos, though. There are a few near her ribs that might be from the time she speared herself. Her neck and shoulders are, as expected, multiply marred in the most interesting way. I wonder if she manipulates how the scars look when she keeps them.

Does she have enough power for that?

Some of them worry me, but I can’t keep my mind on it. It’s a conversation for later, I think. I hate that I’ve gotten myself so far gone that I have to do this, but here we are. I kiss the spot on her wrist lightly, then bite in as gently as I can.

A soft groan escapes her lips, but she doesn’t pull away. I feel the sparkling magick of her blood immediately as I drink; it tingles through me like a soothing balm. Drinking from anyone would help, but from her, it’s like dipping into the Achilles pool. She tastes like a fine wine, notes of sweet and spicy with a hint of earth that must be her magick.

She’s murmuring something that sounds foreign and soothing under her breath. I assume it’s a spell to shore up herself or her powers. I hear her chanting, but it’s a wisp— like the memory of a dream—and I let it float away. Her pulse pounds in my ears, over my tongue, and in my veins, as my entire body flushes.

I barely notice her turn her head towards a set of embedded cabinets next to the closet. She points her free hand at them and then at the bedside table. Maybe I’m hallucinating, but a thick pillar candle appears to light itself, followed by a censer of jasmine and lavender incense. Her eyes cut to the light switch and the lights dim. After that, she seems to relax. She continues chanting and I look around groggily, not sure if I really saw that or not.

Suddenly, it burns inside, and I feel my internal wounds knit slowly. The pain and headiness of her blood are making my mind fuzzy, but I keep drinking, slaking the hunger that only seems to increase as I do so.~So tired. Side effect?~

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