Page 8 of Bound in Blood
Logan’s heartbeat was stuttering. Too slow, too weak.
He wasdying.
Marco tried to think, but his thoughts weren’t making sense. The scent of Logan’s blood was still thick in the air, the taste still on his tongue.Why had he taken so much?
Why did he want more?
Vampires, unlike in most variations of their lore, found no sense in killing their prey. It was inefficient. When you found a blood source you particularly enjoyed, draining all of it upon first contact was a guarantee you’d never taste it again. When Marco had first bitten into Logan, the first taste of the human hitting his tongue, he had tried to remind himself of this.
The downside, however, to losing your humanity, meant that your brain and body didn’t always follow the same rules. Marco had never actually drained a human. Typically, he would take enough to knock them unconscious while his venom worked its way through their system, stimulating their blood cells to produce more rapidly until they were back to their old selves.
Mateo had drained a human once, back when they had first turned. He had woken before Marco and killed the first unfortunate human that crossed his path. Was sane enough after to keep Marco from doing the same.
But now,Marcohad made the mistake. If you could call it that. Mateo’s mistake had been born out of newborn hunger he didn’t understand. Marco had just been greedy.
He pressed harder now on Logan’s chest as his mind began to sober from its bloodlust. Had his hands been shaking this entire time? Panic started to set in, his hands doing their best to just...willthe life back into the human. The beat beneath his palms only got weaker, slipping away.
“Marco.”
Mateo’s voice was sharp, Marco could feel the emotion radiating off his brother. His anger, confusion, his concern. For the human and Marco. If Marco’s entire world wasn’t narrowingto the dying man in his arms, he might have felt some concern for his brother’s well-being, too.
Fuck. Logan was going todie.And soon.
Marco felt the first tear roll down his face as Logan’s body drained of warmth, his face nearly sheet-white. The scent of his blood, a grim reminder of what Marco had done, waseverywhere.
You did this. You killed him.
He couldn’t let it happen. Couldn’t?—
“Marco, you need to let go of him. There’s still time to get him to a doctor!” Mateo shook his shoulder, trying to grab at the limp body between them, but there was some deep, dark part of Marco that would fight even his brother to avoid letting go.
“That won’t help him.” Marco rasped. He didn’t recognize his own voice.
His mind felt empty, hollowed out. Void of all logic, reason, and consequence. All that remained was a singular, desperateneedto continue holding the dying boy.
Mateo stopped pacing. His eyes snapped toward Marco, narrowing. “Then what do you suggest?” His voice cracked on the last word. Mateo, it seemed, felt the same way Marco did.
They couldn’t lose Logan.
Theywouldn’t.
Yes, they’d only met hours ago. No, it made no rational sense, but he couldn’t,wouldn’tlet him go. The thought alone sent shockwaves of something dark and primal through him. His hands tightened their grip, and his fangs, which should have retracted by now, ached with an intensity he’d never experienced.
“No,” Mateo warned, catching the thought within seconds of it passing through Marco’s mind.
Marco couldsaveLogan. Could give him a bit of an upgrade, really. And he’d be alive… mostly.
Mateo shoved hard at Marco’s shoulder, voice scraped raw with desperation. “Marco, stop!” he pleaded, “Think about this! The hospital could?—”
Marco wouldn’t give him time to finish the sentence. His body moved on instinct, fangs dropping down as he raised his wrist to his mouth, slicing the vein in one clean movement. Blood began pooling as the wound started trying to close immediately, but Marco was faster. Hegentlycoaxed Logan’s jaw open before shoving his entire wrist into the other man’s mouth.
Mateo raged, trying his best to wrench Marco’s wrist from Logan’s parted lips, but it was all in vain. Marco hadn’t felt the brunt of Mateo’s anger like this in a long time.
They were both, in their own way, trying to protect the boy, he rationalized. But Mateo was foolish if he believed they’d get him to a hospital on time. What good is your humanity if you’re dead? And Marco wouldnotlet Logan die.
Logan’s throat worked as his body instinctively forced him to swallow. Marco watched in wonder at the tiny little reaction, feeling, deep down, some odd sense of pride. He allowed Mateo to throw him off of Logan, knowing it didn’t matter.
It was done.
