Page 83 of Even Vampires Bleed
“I found alcohol,” I tell her, and she nods in answer.
I circle her.
“This is going to hurt,” I tell her, but this time I don’t wait for her to respond and pour some of the vodka on her wounds.
I don’t wait again.
I pour some of it on my hands, and then I put my left hand softly against the bone of her wings—far enough from the wound—and remove the branch in one swift movement so she doesn’t have time to process.
She stayed impassive when I poured the vodka on her wounds, but this time she screams so loud that all the birds in the trees take off into the sky.
41
Cassiopé
Ican’t breathe.
My body was already burning before Léandre poured the alcohol on my wing, but now it feels like it’s on fire.
I know it’s supposed to be a good sign, but I can’t think straight.
And then he removes what’s left of the branch.
I believe my sanity leaves with the scream I release.
I didn’t even know I could scream like that.
“You need to shift,” Léandre tells me, so I try.
The key word in this being “try,” because nothing is happening.
I can’t do it, and I feel the tears start flowing again on my cheeks.
Am I completely broken?
I’m scared.
I’m so freaking scared.
I just want for the pain to disappear, for my wings to get back in, to curl on myself and sleep the bad experience away.
I don’t think it’s going to happen anytime soon, and that scares me even more.
“I think there might be splinters in,” Léandre whispers. “That might be why you can’t shift.”
That makes sense.
“Find my bag,” I manage to say between gritted teeth.
Why does talking feel like it hurts?
I hear him shuffle behind me, and then his steps bring him away from me to my left.
At this point, I have no idea where I am, where the house is, or even where the bags are.
I think I saw Léandre naked, but I’m not even sure.
My eyes have stayed closed most of the time. I feel like my body forced all my muscles to contract—including my eyelids—so that what isn’t supposed to be inside my body would get out.
