Page 75 of The Royal Street Witch
“Cassius really felt it necessary to dress up?”
“He always feels it’s necessary to dress up.” His thumb runs along my stomach as I pull his shirt off his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, and my fingers grip his chin, forcing our eyes to meet.
“Stop it. You need to do whatever you can to stay alive.”
His head gently nods. “Mouthwash,” he says, pointing to the glass container filled with Listerine. I rise, grabbing the Listerine and cup, filling it, and handing it to him.
A gesture for me, to rid his mouth of another person’s blood because if I really thought about it, it’s a little sickening.
While he takes a swig, I pull off my jeans, top, and undergarments, and he stares at me the entire time.
“If I only had the strength,” he sighs, and I long for his touch. For the intimacy, but we can’t push it.
“Plenty of time for that later.” I place the Listerine back on the counter and sit in front of him, unbuttoning his pants, and he grabs my neck and looks into my eyes.
“My dark hearted guardian angel.” He leans down, kissing me so tenderly. The first time our lips have touched for more than a second since he got sick, and if this isn’t serendipity, I don’t know what is.
I help him into the bath and then slide in behind him, legs wide, pulling his back against my belly, his head against my chest.
My fingers dance through his thick hair, massaging his scalp, wanting him to feel all my love, all my sorrow, all my regret. His body, like a sigh of relief against mine. Long and languid and I want his healthy body back. I wish I could will it or charm it back. But there’s only one way, and it’s blood from others.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” His eyes are closed, his body relaxing more and more.
“It’s not the beautiful women that you crave. It’s the fact that they can give you what I can’t.”
Fingers find my calf and squeeze.
I go on. “I know that’s it’s foolish and that you love me. But it kills me that I can’t give you what you so desperately want and need now more than ever.”
“But you have what I so desperately need. Something no other woman in seventy years has had. If you would just believe that already, your life would be so much easier. And the magic we create when we are together—objects flying in the air, the energy—I’ve never felt anything like that in my life. I have a taste for women’s blood, yes. But I have a deep seeded love for only one woman. We are magic, you and me.”
I run my fingers down the sides of his neck and along his shoulders, smiling at him, at his perfect words. “I’ll work on it,” I whisper, and he nestles back against my chest. I wrap my arms across him and his arms coil around mine.
“Cassius told me the truth. That he made you.”
I’ve caught him by surprise and delivery has never been my strong suit. “He also told me that you had a drinking problem. And…I’m not trying to put you on the spot. I’m not angry you lied. I just want to understand why.”
“Jesus, did he tell you when I lost my virginity too?”
“No, should I ask him?”
He sits up in the bath, the water loud and swooshing around us. But he’s showing strength he hasn’t shown in days. His back is less grey, the skin still not tan, but hopefully we are making progress.
After a moment of contemplation, his voice fills the quiet room.
“He found me on the street, drunk and ruined and good for nothing. And he saved me, and he’s hated himself for it ever since. So I lie and tell people Nicola made me because she can carry the burden that my brother can’t seem to.”
He spins around to face me, face looking fuller, eyes less red.
“I didn’t know I would have the privilege of falling in love with you. So the little lie seemed inconsequential at the time. As for my drinking…” His eyes look in the water at his crossed legs in front of him. “It’s something I would like to forget. A time in my life when I let my pain and desperation win. It’s quite shameful, really, how I behaved. How I lived.”
Pulling my legs into my chest, I watch his fingers fidget and it’s these smallest movements that show me he’s coming back from his illness.
“I gave you something to be addicted to. The potion is your new alcohol.”
Bastian grabs my hands, pulling them into his, as a chill runs through me at how very quickly he can move.
