Page 80 of The Star's Sword

Simon’s eyes closed again, and he lay still. Then, with a hiss, he shot forward, sitting up, eyes red and bloodshot, chest heaving.

His forehead was damp with sweat, and his hands propped him up on either side of him.

He looked ready to throw up.

Then he lunged at Samael, who held him back with one hand on his chest, as Simon, surprisingly strong, tried to scramble over him, attempting to pin him down.

As they struggled, I realized Simon’s fangs were out, and he was trying to get at Sam’s neck.

Sam looked barely able to restrain him, so Mark ran around the bed and locked his arms around Simon’s waist, trying to hold him back.

But Simon was still struggling, lost to their words, thinking of nothing but feeding, it appeared.

“Simon, stop!” I yelled, stepping forward with clenched fists. “What’s wrong with you?”

He froze at that, looking slightly lost as he looked up at me. Then his fangs lengthened, and he made a lunge for me as well, jerked back by both Mark and Sam. “So hungry,” he whined, as they finally succeeded in dragging him back against them.

“I found him in chains,” Mark said. “Chained to a bookshelf and unconscious. Vasara wasn’t even there, but based on some of the implements around, she was coming back.”

Rage filled me, like a wildfire burning through a house full of gasoline.

Samael was already standing, snapping his fingers for rope, which he then tied around a struggling Simon’s hands and ankles, which Mark then helped him tie to the bedposts, leaving Simon spread-eagled and struggling on the circular bed.

He paused, sniffing the air, and then leered at us, fangs gleaming. “You three had a party, didn’t you? Letting me feed on you is the least you could do to say thanks for using my room.” He was breathing heavily, and frowned as he looked at his bonds. “Damn, have I been acting dangerous? What’s this about?” He grinned. “Someone feeling like some bondage?” But then he tensed and began to thrash again, trying to shake his bonds off. “Why am I so gods-damned hungry?”

I felt helpless, not knowing what to do. If I should feed him.

“Something’s definitely wrong,” Samael said. “Simon’s never hungry like this. If he is, he never even shows it. And I know he’s well-fed lately. So it’s not that.”

Simon’s breath was coming out like steam, he was so overheated.

He stopped struggling once again, shaking his head and coming back to himself, if a little blearily. “I feel not myself. I feel—” He began to thrash again, jerking at the bonds. A rope began to tear and Sam snapped his fingers, instantly replacing it with another.

“Damn celestial powers,” Simon grated out, trying to get to me now. “Let me feed, Cleo. I’m so hungry. I won’t kill you, I promise.” He started laughing, but it didn’t sound sane. “At least, probably.” He threw his head back and laughed at that, but then slumped, going still, and his labored pants were all we heard for a few seconds.

“Why would drugging him make him hungry?” Samael asked, moving over to Simon with a damp washcloth to dot his forehead, even as Simon lunged up again, trying to bite him.

“Maybe she chained him because his hunger was so intense,” Mark said.

But rage was still filling my chest. I didn’t know why, but I had a bad feeling about this. Probably because Vasara was involved.

“Open the window,” Simon choked out, looking over to the side. “Cayne’s coming. I can feel him.” He thrashed again. “At least he’ll feed me.”

I put a hand on Simon’s forehead. It felt hot and damp. “Simon, I promise, we’re all here to help and figure it out.”

“I’m ravenous,” he said, eyes wild as he looked at me. “I’ve never felt like this, Cleo.”

“If he said open the window, open it,” Samael said to Mark. “There’s a handle. Open the big one.”

Mark ran to the window Sam pointed at and fumbled with the handle, then pulled it open just in time for Cayne to fly in, carried by Zadis.

Cayne landed on two feet and Zadis dropped him and then landed beside him smoothly. “A bit embarrassing to be carried, but I had to get here quick,” Cayne said, walking forward. When he saw Simon on the bed, he ran to his side, patting his cheeks.

“Oh Cayne,” Simon said pleasantly, though his eyes still looked feral. “Can you talk some sense into the rest of these people and let someone feed me? It feels like I’m going to die.”

Cayne instantly flexed his claws and cut the ropes holding Simon, and gathered his friend in his arms, not worried at all as Simon lunged up to grab him around his neck, and sunk his fangs in, so hard blood spurted.

“All you want, Simon. Just calm down,” he said.

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