Page 46 of A Heart Of Bitter Poison
“Vampire. Wake up…” Something touches my face and it feels wet. My skin or the hand, I don’t know. I feel wet everywhere. I groan and hear a whispered instruction from Ediye but can’t make out the words. When Ashen speaks again, his worry is buried beneath a quieter voice. “Lu, you are safe here. Wake up.”
I press my eyes shut. The buzzing seems to subside enough that when I open them again, I can see. But I’m not really a fan of what my eyes take in.
On the plus side, I haven’t pissed myself.
On the negative side, I’ve redecorated the bathroom. With my blood.
Mykaikenlies on the floor next to me. My body is covered with sweat and dark crimson spatter. I’m shaking with a deep sense of cold. I’m pretty sure my marrow has been sucked clean and replaced with snow. My fingertips ache. I still feel half in a blizzard, half here on the bathroom tiles.
I’m really fucking confused. I was in bed?.. I think?.. That’s the last thing I remember. I got into bed and Ashen was on the floor by the window, watching as I gave him one last, suspicious, somewhat unfocused drunken glare before I pulled the blanket to my chin and turned my back on him. And now Ashen is kneeling next to me with his hand around mine, with Ediye squatting on my other side. They both look stern. Worried.
“What the fuuuuck,” I whisper. My voice is extra hoarse, my throat extra sore. My tongue feels too thick and pasty in my mouth. I suddenly feel very tired, like I’ve been running instead of sleeping.
Ediye stands and grabs a hand towel. I hear the water run in the sink. Ashen stays by my side. When it’s ready, he takes the damp towel from Ediye and wipes my skin with gentle strokes. I focus on his face, his eyes following the movement of his hand as it trails down my cheek and across my neck. He must feel me watching and meets my gaze. He tries to give a reassuring smile but there’s a crease between his brows that looks too concerned to give me any kind of relief.
My attention drifts up to the mirror. Chevrons and lines and triangles of ancient Sumerian drip across its polished surface. “I don’t remember this from any issue of Martha StewartLivingmagazine,” I say, my gaze transfixed on the text that spans the width of the mirror and a wide section of the formerly white plaster wall. Ashen’s eyes narrow in my peripheral vision and I sense his confusion.
“Last year’s October edition.Spooky Season On A Budget, how to decorate with your own blood,” Ediye says.
“Right. Nailed it. Bianca will be thrilled.”
Ashen grumbles something incoherent that sounds an awful lot likeharamenzen, Sumerian fortroublemakers. I meet Ediye’s eyes and she gives me a fleeting smile as Ashen’s arm slips beneath my neck and he lifts me from the cold tile floor, wrapping a towel over my shoulders. When I’m up and steady on my feet I turn to the mirror.
“Gasaan tiildibba me zi ab. Dul susi giskasilim tilla. Nigkulli duma galu barama niingar,” I whisper, reading the first line of text across the mirror. “The first lines of my spell in Sanford.”
“Queen that gives life to the dying. The weapon of sweet voice. My music let no man make,” Ashen says. I meet his eyes through the reflection. The scrawled text of blood is like a mask over our faces.
“Umunzid kian utudza angim sunutega. Gasaan utud muszid kesdi. En utud sag men mama,” Ediye says, reading the next line down. Combined with the first line, the text repeats, over and over.“A true form, designed by heaven and earth thou wast created, like heaven intangible.Offspring of a queen, clad upon by a true form. Offspring of a high-priest, whose head is crowned.”
“What does that mean?” Ashen asks, reading the cuneiform as though a hidden message might jump from the bloody text. They both look at me in the mirror, but I can only shrug.
“I don’t know. I don’t remember anything,” I say, trying to pull a memory from the dream that must have drawn me from my room and compelled me here. But there’s nothing, only the white blizzard from the hazy moments just before I woke. My gaze homes in on Ashen. “Did you hear anything?”
He shakes his head, his troubled expression falling away from mine. “No. I woke and you were gone. I came out of the room to rouse the others and heard you talking in the bathroom. You were repeating the lines of the spell.” Ashen’s jaw hardens. When his eyes lift from the shadows they burn with flame. He looks at me for only a heartbeat before his gaze slides to Ediye. “How is this possible? I cast a spell tonight that should have kept Lu from harming herself.”
Ediye’s expression darkens as she holds the demon’s stare. “Harm was not her intent. Her intent was to send a message.”
Ashen’s gaze meets mine again and I can see that Ediye’s words only spark more worry. And irritation. “To whom? And about what?”
“I don’t know, but we should have Bianca look at this in the morning,” Ediye says, turning to me. “Perhaps she can decipher whatever you were trying to convey. She seemed like she saw something in your blood at the club that was connected to your spell, so maybe she can lend some insight here too.”
“Yeah. Can’t wait. It was so fun the last time,” I reply with a note of heavy sarcasm as I lock eyes with Ediye. My hand drifts to my damp tank top and presses to my heart, which feels like it has taken more than its fair share of abuse lately.
Ashen’s eyes narrow, and I can tell he’s trying to make sense of our exchange. Whatever conclusions he’s drawn only seem to sour his mood even further. He’s a demon, so it’s not like it’s hard to do. “Get her cleaned up, witch,” he says, his voice gruff as he gently pushes me in Ediye’s direction. “She needs to rest.”
“First of all, I’mright here. Don’t talk around me like I’m not,” I say, shrugging off his hand as I level him with a glare. He frowns and the crease deepens between his brows. Okay,fine, I’ll admit he does have a point about cleanliness and rest. I feel both gross and bone tired. “Secondly, I slipped right out from beneath your watch, so don’t go getting pissy with anyone but yourself. Especially not Ediye.”
“I ampreciselythe person I am angry with, vampire,” Ashen says, taking a step toward me as his glowing eyes warm my skin. Ferocious anger brews within his gaze. He bends and picks up mykaikenfrom the floor, glaring at the blood that stains the blade. “It will not happen again.”
Ashen looks back to me, a muscle jumping in his jaw as he surveys my face, his hard stare lingering on my lips. I have an urge to make a quip about his motivations, but I manage to keep my mouth clamped shut. I do still give him a fierce stare, however, that only brightens when his gaze connects with mine.
“Give us some room, Reaper,” Ediye says, turning on the shower. Ashen holds my glare but acknowledges her words with a curt nod. He stays unmoving for a moment longer than what seems normal, then turns and leaves, stalking down the hall to my room.
“This has been a weird night,” I whisper through a heavy sigh, dropping the towel on the counter and stripping off my soaked and bloodied tank top and shorts.
“Yeah, there have been a lot of weird days and nights lately,” Ediye replies as I step into the shower. She closes the curtain behind me but I can sense her lingering on the other side. “Your Reaper was pretty spooked to find you in here, writing up the walls.”
“Not my Reaper, Ediye,” I say as I watch the water cleanse the blood from the slits in my fingers, the deeper cuts still raw and open.
