I Bite She Sucks Bloom, Penelope (howl and other poems TXT) 📖

as the two vampires approached. “None of this is what it looks like, Lazarus wants-” Riggs was standing beside me one moment and the next he was gone.

I blinked, turning my head in confusion. Ana Black was in front of me and Riggs was on the ground several feet to the side clutching his chest. Vladimir was on top of him, but Riggs was barely managing to hold the shorter, stocky vampire’s hands from his throat.

“Fucking wait,” Riggs choked. “The Coven wants this.”

Ana snapped her fingers. “Wait, Vladimir. I want to hear his story.”

Vladimir got up and brushed off his elegant coat. “If what they say is true, then I want to kill this bastard with my bare hands. That’s our boy he murdered.” Vladimir took a step closer, fists clenched like he was about to slam them down on Riggs who was still struggling to stand.

Students were whispering excitedly, like this was all some sort of game.

The gravity of the situation wasn’t lost on me. My life and the life of everyone I cared about hung on the next few moments. On the whims of two vampires who were probably hundreds of years old with motivations I had no hopes of guessing.

Riggs got to his feet shakily and my heart hurt for him. He was bleeding heavily, and I had no doubt that being hit hard enough to fling him like that had done some sort of internal damage. I had to remind myself of the fall I’d seen him suffer from my apartment window. He’d healed quickly enough from that, and hopefully would be able to recover soon.

“Kill us, and the Coven will get the war it wants,” Riggs said. “Think about it. What do we stand to gain from killing your Prince? Start a war with the only faction of vampires who don’t actively want to destroy us? Why wouldn’t we wait until we’d used you all to help weaken the Coven before striking? It doesn’t make sense. Think about it.”

Ana was holding in her emotions better then Vlad, who was pacing and fuming as he looked at Riggs. She waved her hand to a pair of gray-haired vampires in the crowd. “Take them to the dungeons. We will make contact with the Coven and determine if there’s any chance what he’s saying is true.”

32

Riggs

The dungeons were what looked to be an old wine cellar. The walls were cinderblocks and the whole place was damp, wet, and cold. We were led to a lone room at the back and locked behind a heavy door.

Sylvie quickly rushed to me once we were alone and tried to lift my shirt to inspect my wounds. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

I winced at her touch but let her fuss over me because it seemed to keep her mind from the larger problem facing us. “I’ll live. I heal fast, but this many wounds will take a little more time.”

Sylvie nodded.

“Do you believe me?” I asked. “About Victor, I mean.”

Her eyes darted between mine a few times, then she nodded again. “I do. Yes.”

I pulled her forehead to mine and held it there softly for a few moments. “Thank you.” Then I hesitated, sensing the heat coming from her skin. “Are you getting sick again?”

“I’m fine,” Sylvie said, but then I saw what I hadn’t noticed before. She was pale again. There was a faint sheen of sweat on her skin even with the cool air in the dungeon.

Fuck. She couldn’t be getting sick again. Everything was already going to shit as it was, but at least before I knew she was healthy for the time being.

I went to the door and banged on it a few times. “We need the bag we brought. It has her medicine.”

There was no response, so I tried shouting louder a few times, but gave up with a frustrated kick against the metal.

“I’ll be fine,” Sylvie said. “I’m more worried about the others.”

I sat down beside her and let her rest her head on my shoulder. “I don’t think Lazarus will hurt them. The bastard is calculating. He still knows he can use them to blackmail me, and I don’t think he’ll give that up as long as we’re alive. That means we need to stay alive, because our lives practically guarantee theirs.”

“Then stop bleeding so much,” she said, smirking as she made another pass at poking and gently prodding my wounds.

“That would be easier if you stopped touching them.”

“Sorry,” Sylvie said, blushing. She got up and tore a strip from the bottom of her shirt suddenly. I thought she must’ve got more fabric than she bargained for, because I could see the bottom of her red bra and her entire stomach once she’d finished. She blushed even more, then made a clumsy attempt at tying the too-small strip of her shirt around my torso.

“Uh,” she stammered. “That didn’t work like it does in the movies.”

I sat her down gently. “You’re getting sick. Stop tearing off your clothes for me for a minute and focus on getting rest.”

She slumped against the wall, already looking drained. But she smirked back at me. “Did you just tell me to stop tearing my clothes off for you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. It’s cold in here. You need all the clothing you can get. There’s no telling how long we’ll be stuck in here, and I’m guessing prisoners in the fucking dungeon don’t get blankets.”

“I read this scene in a book once,” Sylvie said, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering. “The two characters got stuck in a frozen car and didn’t know when help would come. They found out it was actually warmest if they both got naked and cuddled together. Pretty crazy, huh?”

I pressed my hand to her forehead again, smiling a little. “As much as I would enjoy that, I think we should probably keep our clothes on for the time being. We don’t know what’s coming, and I don’t want to fight our way out of here naked