Page 7 of A Heart Of Bitter Poison
I don’t feel the prick of the needle. I don’t notice when the tourniquet is removed from my arm. It’s not until I smell my own blood as the surgical steel is withdrawn from my skin that I realize the procedure is already over.
“I need time to analyze the sample,” the little scientist says. I open my eyes, watching as he turns toward Gallus and caps the needle, pocketing the vial of blood in his lab coat.
Gallus heaves a deep grumble that resonates in his chest. “How much time?”
“Four hours. Perhaps less.”
“Do you require anything else to complete the task?”
The scientist pulls his glasses from his face and uses the edge of his shirt to polish the lenses before pushing them back onto his nose. “If it’s not too much trouble, food and coffee would help.”
“This will be arranged,” Gallus says with a single nod.
The two men begin to talk about the logistics of the scientist’s meal.
My eyes slide to the behemoth leaning against the wall.
In their commonplace exchange, they don’t notice something uncommon at all.
The little man has stood too close to a predator.
I curl my fingers around the edge of his sleeve, drawing the fabric into my palm like a spider collecting a web around its prey.
My body can’t take much more punishment. If I destroy a piece of this little man, Gallus might just mete out more suffering than I can endure. If I have enough strength to hold onto him, to maybe reel in his flesh and break his bones, I might finally get what I’m hoping for.
Death.
Neither Gallus nor the scientist notice the stealth of my grip as they speak. They are so easily distracted by their important words, their self-interested thoughts. I close my eyes and try not to smile.
“I will gather what you’ve asked for,” Gallus says. I hear his arms release from across his chest and fall to his sides as he pushes his body from the wall. His footsteps drift toward the door. “Come.”
My heart bursts a furious beat into my throat. This is it. The last moments of life. The love I feel for living, for all these centuries past... it captures my breath. It burns in my chest like a hot knife. And the sharpest blade of all is the love for the man that I lost. I finally let myself have something I wanted, after so many years away from immortal kind, and look where it got me. The betrayal carves hot tears into my skin as I open my eyes.
The scientist seems to hesitate close to the table then tries to step toward the door to follow Gallus. His shirt pulls taut across his arm as I cling to his sleeve. His arm recoils toward mine and I grasp his warm palm in my shackled hand.
My fangs descend and paint my tongue with a thin veneer of venom. The old man lets out a surprised yelp as I meet his eyes with a menacing smile. I squeeze his hand, trapping him in the vice of my fingers.
“Fucksakes,” I hear Gallus growl.
There’s a thud, a muffled cry.
But the sounds come from the other side of the steel door.
I hear the sharp intake of breath as Gallus realizes something is wrong. The singing call of a sword sliding against a scabbard fills the room as he draws his weapon. His footsteps scramble to the door and he rushes from the room.
The heavy door swings shut with a muted thud. I hear fighting in the hall. A clash of metal against metal. My eyes dart to the exit and back to the little man in my grip.
“I’m he-here to ge-get you out,” he stammers, reaching with his shaking free hand into the pocket of his lab coat.
He draws out a key. His eyes flick to my shackles.
I nod. It takes a breath to convince my hand to do so, but I relax my tight grip until I can let go. My throat feels thick with searing heat, as though I swallowed lava. I see the red light within my eyes brighten in the reflection of the old man’s glasses before he turns away and fits the key into the first lock.
The man says nothing as he fumbles with the shackles, his eyes flicking constantly toward the door where the sounds of fighting grow louder. He releases my wrist, then my ankles, then heads back up to my remaining hand. My heart is surging against my bones. My fingers start to tingle as I strain and stretch them within the silver cuff. In my head, I’m screaming at him to hurry up. Needles start pricking at the bone behind my eyes.
Not now.Not now.
I fight my body to keep my nerves at bay. Deep breaths. Calm my heart. Center my chakras or whatever the fuck I’m supposed to do. Whatever it will take to not have a seizure.
