Page 49 of A Shadow in the Reaping
I look at him with a question in my eyes.
"Yeah, it's pretty bad."
I open and close my fingers to ask for my pen with a faint smile. Ashen rolls his eyes.
"Really?" he asks, the sarcasm heavy in his expression as I give him my sweetest doe eyes and cast my pen across my journal.
Do you think I could get salmonella?
"No."
E. coli?
"No."
Rabies?
"...maybe."
Nooooo. Not angel rabies. The HORROR.
Ashen tries to smile but pulls the jacket from my wounds. A darkness embeds itself into his eyes and his pupils flash with flame. "It's not healing very fast. Do you have more blood in the thermos?" he asks as he pushes the fabric to my face once more. It smells like him, and it doesn't fix the pain but it's comforting.
A little.
"Is it enough?"
I don't know. How bad is it, really?
"To the bone. Those feathers are like knives. It's a lot of damage."
I sigh and look toward the pyramid. I wonder how their portal works, if it's anything like the cauldrons that the Reapers use. But I have no desire to find out. It would be handy to have one right here. I think I'd like to go back to the Shadow Realm now. I think even the fire in the cauldron would be okay.
"Take my blood," Ashen says, his voice rich and warm, like the first rays of the sun that find us on this ancient ground. I meet his eyes and he stares intently into mine, as though he's reaching right into my heart. It pulls the air from my lungs. I feel a sudden rush of tears sting in my eyes and I shake my head. It's not like I would take enough to harm him, and I know my venom won’t harm him like it does the werewolves. It's the act of offering that overwhelms me. On any other day he could be my executioner, and now he's rolling up his sleeve and offering his wrist to me. "It's all right. I know you will only take what you need. Go ahead."
I look at the network of veins beneath his skin, feeling the beat of his pulse as though it lives within me. I hear the four chambers of his heart, the surge of blood through valves and arteries.
"Go on, Lu. It's okay. Just trust me."
I flick my eyes to Ashen's and find only truth in his words. I look back down to his arm and my canines slide to their full length in my mouth. Venom colors my tongue in sweetness. I lay one hand in Ashen's and his fingers curl around mine. With my other hand I grasp his elbow.
Thank you,I whisper without sound. I feel a tear breach the corner of my eye, creeping around the grains of sand stuck to my skin. Ashen's thumb caresses the back of my hand in a reassuring touch. I close my eyes and draw my lips to his wrist. I take a deep breath. I press a kiss of gratitude to his skin before I bite down.
Blood, hot and rich, fills my mouth. It's like nothing I've ever tasted. Sweet but not cloying. Spiced but not burning. Ashen doesn't move as I draw in his blood from the bite, and I relish the sound and the feel of it as it flows from his body to mine. When I sense the wounds across my face begin to knit together, I slow down, until I can finally let go. As I lift my fangs from his flesh, I press my palm across the bite and we wait for a moment, kneeling in front of one another, unmoving aside from our heavy breath.
When the bleeding has slowed on both our wounds, Ashen stands, pulling me up with him. He unfurls his black jacket and pulls it across my shoulders to hide the dark stains that flow down my shirt. "Better?" he asks.
I nod and I touch my cheek, still sore but healing.Thank you, I mouth.
Ashen grasps my chin and tilts my face to the sun to see the progress of the wound. He offers a faint smile as he casts his gaze over the healing skin. Even with its subtle tones, I see relief, and I see pride.
Our eyes meet. The warmth of his thumb caresses my chin, grazing the edge of my lip. My heart rages to climb closer to him, pulling my body with it. His blood sings in my veins.
Part of me wants so badly to lean forward and press my lips to Ashen’s. I want to feel the heat of his breath on my skin. I want to memorize his features with the touch of my fingertips. But the winds of fear catch my sail.
I swallow a thick knot in my throat. My fingers curl around Ashen’s wrist and I lower his hand from my face. I take a step back and look at Ashen for a moment longer before I turn away. My heart rebels against me, hammering furious beats that ring in my ears. It just doesn’t know that I’m trying to save it.
We walk in silence back to the Serapeum, grabbing the apothecary's thermos before we head back to our bikes. By the time I pull my helmet on, the wound is nothing more than pink slashes across my skin. We drive off toward the city and I follow Ashen's taillights into the morning rush of cars.
