Page 4 of Fated Blood

Fear rips through me and I scramble backwards and scream. My back hits a rough rock wall and I yelp as jagged stone pierces my skin.

“Mother! Mother, can you hear me?” I cry out, blinking and trying to adjust my vision. “Father! I’m here! Please, come get me!”

But no answer comes.

My sight is getting better, I can see the walls of the room I’m in. They’re all stone, rough and as dark as the night around me. To my right is a row of cold steel bars. I reach out and touch them in disbelief, unable to fathom the sight in front of me. I’ve heard about cages, how some animals are kept in them if they’re dangerous. I never imagined I’d see one, much less be locked in one. My screams for help turn to sobs of defeat. I’m alone here, somewhere underground, locked in a cage.

“Help me, somebody…” I cry, my raw fear echoing back to me.

Something moves behind me and I freeze as a hand cups my face from behind. Their skin is warm, human, and before I can help myself, I turn my face into the gentle offer of comfort. It feels like a lifetime since I’ve been touched, even if it’s only been a matter of hours.

“There’s nobody out there to hear you,” a warm voice says.

I can hear the pain and desolation as a thumb strokes my cheek. I turn to look at the hand, trying to see the man it belongs to, but it’s sticking out of a hole in the wall.

“You’re here…” I whimper. “Someone else might be too…”

“I’m a prisoner, just like you. There’s been no one here for days. Not until they threw you in and gave me a pitcher of water and some moldy bread.”

“Where are we?” I sob, clinging to his hand as if he’s the only lifeline I’ll ever know. He might be. The thought chills me to the bone. “Why are we here?”

“I don’t know where we are. All I know is Angelica Monroe put us here, and all she wants is misery and death. I’m sorry…?” he trails off, waiting for my name.

I bite my bottom lip. I’ve never told anyone my name, they always just knew. Father told them.

“F-Fayla…” I whisper.

I can hear a smile in his voice as he strokes my cheek again.

“I’m Sebastian,” he tells me, his voice hushed, almost reverent. “Would it be selfish to say I’m so glad you’re here?” He chuckles self-deprecatingly, but his hand flinches when he feels my hot tears roll over his fingers. “I only mean to say,” he starts, backtracking, “I’ve been alone here for a long time. This hole is the only progress I’ve made to escape. Hearing a voice that isn’t hers…it’s like a salve to my soul. I never meant to say that I’m glad you’ve been taken too. Only that… I’m glad I’m not alone…”

My heart shatters as it has a million times in the last few hours. This human has been kept here for gods know how long. I wrap my hand around his wrist and brush my lips over his fingers as I turn my face to speak to him.

“I’m glad I’m not alone, too…” I whisper.

His sigh of relief is palpable. “I’ll find a way to get us out of here, Fayla. Now that you’re here, I have even more reason to try. I won’t let you suffer at Angelica’s hands as I have. I promise.”

A wry chuckle escapes my throat as I realize there's nothing Sebastian can do to protect me. Contrary to his best intentions, he’s still locked away. What could he possibly do? I close my eyes, inhaling the scent of the first human male I’ve ever met. He smells like the rot of this place, but underneath it all he smells like gunpowder and spice. Like a match lit before lighting a candle. He smells like safety and warmth, and I cling to him, uncaring of how it may look to anyone who could see us.

I was raised to be a lady, prim and proper. I can walk with a stack of books on my head and drink a glass of blood tea as if I’m royalty. I've been taught how to speak, behave, and appear cultured. Dignified. But at this moment, the only thing in the entire world I care about is the searing heat from this human’s hand as I hold it to my face.

“Are you hungry?” he asks suddenly.

I realize with a shock that I’m starving. I open my mouth toward his palm. I’ve never drank directly from a human, but I know how to. Before I can bite, however, he pulls his hand back through the hole. I feel bereft, abandoned. Why would he offer to feed me and then take the food away? I jump when he pushes his hand back through, holding something.

I touch it and recoil. “Bread?” I gasp, taking it from his hand. It smells like it’s covered in a thick layer of mold and feels fuzzy.

“The inside is still good, you just have to peel away the rot. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I have,” he says, his voice full of embarrassment.

It hits me then, he doesn’t know I’m a vampire. How would he? Does he know Angelica’s one? Fear clenches my heart again, but this time it’s fear that if he finds out what I am, he won’t talk to me anymore. He’d be afraid of me.

“Th-thank you…” I murmur, and start to peel mold from the bread.

His knuckles stroke the back of my cheek as I tentatively put a piece in my mouth and chew. My body recoils, my tongue stinging as mold covers my tastebuds. I start coughing first, and before I can stop myself, I’m vomiting up all the blood I’ve had in the past twenty-four hours. Sebastian’s hand tries to hold my hair back, but it’s fallen so loose from my braid that there's no helping it. I get blood everywhere, all over me, all over the floor.

“I’m so sorry, I know it’s awful…” His voice is so tight, I feel the regret lacing his every word.

“No, don’t be sorry…” I whisper, leaning back against the wall and wiping my face with my sleeve. “Thank you for sharing your…food.”

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