Page 27 of A Heart Of Bitter Poison
Ashen drags a chair toward my bedside and sits, leaning toward me. He struggles with the sterile packaging of a butterfly needle. His hands are shaking. I’ve never seen them shake before. But I’m not sure this whole thing is real. Only pain is real. The scent of burning flesh. The wisps of acrid smoke. These are real. The Reaper might be a hallucination. I’m in agony. I’m delirious with suffering.
I hear another sound at the door and see Davina standing at the threshold. She looks around the room. Her eyes are innocent and wide. They land on Ashen and rest there.
Fucksakes. I wanted somethinggood, not more pain. The acid feels like it’s burning through my heart.
“Eryx, get her out,” Ashen says, nodding at the door. He doesn’t look up from the work of his hands. Eryx hesitates, his gaze is tangled with Cole’s. Ashen seems to sense the inertia. The smoke and cinders of rage erupt from his wings. He lifts his unforgiving glare and pierces each of them with it. “Get. The fuck.Out.”
Eryx and Davina leave without a word. Cole stays to suction more of my throat away. Ashen connects the feeding tube to the needle. Ediye’s chants continue to fill the space between us but I see her glare at Ashen. She’s ready to send all her fury his way. He ignores her, his eyes fixed only to mine.
Mr. Hassan readies another syringe but the Reaper stops the old man’s hand. Smoke fills the space around us. Ashen’s face comes closer until he’s all I see. Those warm cognac eyes that are alight with black flame. The dark hair that falls across his brow. The muscle that ticks in his jaw as his gaze sweeps across my skin.
I should push him away. There’s already pain in every piece of me. I don’t need even more of it in my heart. But I just can’t seem to do it. I can’t.
His warm hand caresses my forehead. Sweat slicks across my skin beneath his fingertips. “All right, vampire?”
I press my eyes closed. Tears spill from their corners and he brushes them away. I remember every time he’s said those words. The fight when we met. The Shadow Realm.
I want him as much as I ever have. I need him now more than ever before. And I hate myself for it.
I smash my fist against the bed. I give him the finger. The huff of his laugh is warm on my wet skin.
“That’s my vampire. Now put that fight where it counts.”
The rich aroma of Ashen’s blood finds its way to me through all the terrifying scents that surround us when he drives the needle into his vein. I watch as he holds his arm aloft. The blood flows down the tube toward me.
The second it passes from his body into mine, I feel it. An effervescence. A hum in my veins. Like stars exploding in my belly and hope igniting in my chest.
Ashen takes my hand and I put my hurt aside. My sorrow and rage. The betrayal that burns like venom in my veins. I just want one good thing to hold onto, even if it’s only a memory.
I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back.
The Reaper leans in close, his lips next to my ear and his breath warm on my skin. His face rests against mine as Mr. Hassan presses the needle into my flesh. My shoulders shake with anguish and fear.
“Stay with me, vampire,” he whispers. His words are just like acid. They dissolve all thought and reason. They bring both pain and possibility.
The apothecary presses down on the plunger and my flesh dissolves into liquid. The suffering is more than I could ever bear. The world blackens. The Reaper chants in my ear, a soft lullaby. A spell. I don’t catch every word. But do catch some.Baltu. Live.Mamitu.An oath.
I am consumed by pain and shadows. As the world fades into darkness, I think I hear something that could only be imagined. Something impossible. Something magical. Something lethal. Something a demon should never feel for a creature bound to the Living Realm.
Arammu.
Love.
CHAPTER12
The light is low when I wake. I’m facing the open window, the sounds of evening within the Khan el-Khalili market vibrant from the street below. A single oil lamp burns on a desk, the gentle flame casting a warm glow through the ornate green chimney. I can see the bubbles and imperfections in the glass as clearly as if it were right next to my face. My vision is back to normal. Maybe better than before.
My veins buzz like they’re filled with a thunderstorm. I feel like I’m powering up with every breath. Energy surges in each beat of my heart.
This is new. Ifeelnew.
And… weird.
Kinda… wild. Feline. Animalistic. Like I could either tear something apart or fuck it into oblivion.
I tamp down that strange sensation and touch my hand to my neck. The tracheostomy is gone. The skin is smooth and unblemished beneath my fingertips. I draw my hand away and turn it over to find my nails regrown, their tips smoothed into perfect, gentle curves. I breathe in the faint smell of silver and steel, and my pulse starts to climb until I detect the scent of Ediye and slip my hand beneath my pillow, grazing the handle of mykaiken. I know she must have put it there as a comfort I’d want to keep close.
My hand pulls away from the blade and I feel my forehead. It’s cool and dry to the touch. There’s no more film of sweat. No more fever. No hum of pain in my head or needles scraping at my eyes. The burn in my throat is little more than a dull ache. Raw, but so much better than before. It’s a candle where there was once an inferno. I swallow, unsure that this could be real.
