Page 67 of The Royal Street Witch
Curtis walks past me to Bastian. “Cassius told me he needed blood, you’re okay with…” he trails off and I nod profusely, and that’s when he eyes the bloodbath that is the bathroom. His eyes widen and he swallows, his nostrils flaring. “Let’s just get things moving along,” he says, and I can’t quite read if he’s upset or uncomfortable but it doesn’t matter.
The question of if he’s a vampire is soon answered as Curtis tilts his head back, eyes rolling, inhaling, and that’s when his fangs elongate, his tongue running over the left one and then the right. He nips at his wrist then places it onto Bastian’s open mouth.
It’s like I’m not breathing, my stomach and lungs frozen, hoping for Bastian to blink, to awaken, to move…but none of that happens as his mouth fills with blood with no reaction.
Curtis brings his wrist to his own lips and licks the tiny wound he inflicted upon himself, and the bleeding stops.
“It didn’t work?” I ask, walking to Bastian, running my hands through his hair.
He digs inside his jacket, producing a syringe, and that’s when Cassius starts calling Bastian’s phone but my eyes are transfixed on the blood-filled syringe and I miss the call.
Curtis pulls Bastian’s shirt up, placing the needle over Bastian’s heart.
“What is that?” I ask, but he ignores me and injects the blood into Bastian’s heart, and that’s when I hear another phone ringing.
“Cassius, he hasn’t responded to the injection.”
I hold my breath as if to quiet my thoughts, hoping to hear what Cassius is telling Curtis.
“Well, there’s a problem with the bathroom. It’s covered in blood.” Curtis’s eyebrows crinkle as his eyes meet mine and then he extends the phone to me.
“Yes?” I swallow, my eyes going to Bastian, still lifeless.
“You have to get the blood cleaned up. But they need to leave immediately.”
They. Not me. I’m sick all over again.
“I need ten minutes. I can have it cleaned—”
“There’s no time!” he rages. “He’s not responding, don’t you get it? The injection in the heart means it’s bad. There’s no fucking time!”
“Fine,” I say, tears pouring into my mouth. “I’ll take care of it.” I swallow the curses sitting on my tongue because I can tell that Cassius will stop at nothing to save Bastian.
Curtis pushes a wheelchair inside and parks it by the bed as I hand the phone to him. He puts it to his ear and listens while I climb next to Bastian.
“I’m going to meet you at the airport,” I whisper, knowing I may miss the plane, but if he can hear me, I want him to know I will try—halt stoplights and street signs to get to him. “I have to clean up the mess here, but I will get to you. I swear, I’ll be by your side as soon as I can.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks as his face remains vacant and look up to Curtis staring at me with a sincerity that’s almost painful. “Got it,” he tells Cassius and then hangs up.
And now he knows. Knows that a witch and vampire are in love, and he feels sorry for me. I understand why Cassius trusts him. Politician or not, he pities a witch.
“We should go,” he says softly and gently picks up Bastian with great ease, then places him in the wheelchair. Bastian’s head falls forward and I try to adjust it then pull his hoodie over his head. I kiss his cheek, and my knees might just crash to the carpet. But I stay upright and bite my lip as Curtis wheels them out of the room.
With wavering bones and a spinning head, I cast our things to finish packing. I slide both of our phones into my purse and put on my shoes.
Then I walk to the bathroom. A pool of blood in the tub. Stained towels scattered on the floor, the sink stained with watery blood. It’s on the carpet outside the bathroom, it’s on the walls, it’s pumping through my veins as I’m terrified.
Nightmares aren’t made up of vampires and ghosts and monsters. Real life nightmares are losing what is most precious to you, and it’s never a what, it’s a who. I let down my walls and I fell so hard, and now I could lose him and for what?
Phones, a phone. Ringing so I run to my purse and pull out both of our phones and it’s Cassius calling Bastian.
“Hello?”
“Are you finished?”
“No, I’m—”
“He won’t leave without you, Aster. He’s threatening Curtis. And Curtis has strict orders from me.”
Mouth dropping, heart-stopping, something pops in the back of my throat. “He’s talking?” I ask, disbelieving my ears.
