Bloodbank

Twenty Six

It was as we set off, back to the last place I wanted to be in the entire godforsaken world, that I realised how tired I was. Each footstep through the desert city I'd seen too much of seemed to ache through my entire body. Every ligament, every bone, had a deep exhaustion in it. My body was begging me to find somewhere sheltered, and do nothing for weeks on end, but I couldn't do that. Not when I had people after me. Not when I had an opportunity. It was power over my enemies that was calling to me - and revenge.

Few words were exchanged between Scott and I on the journey. I couldn't tell the reason for it - fatigue? Anxiety? Excitement? It was moments like these that I missed Nathan's presence. He would have eased my nerves with friendly chatter. But Scott didn't seem able to engage in small talk, and the closer we got to the Bloodbank, the more likely it felt that opening my mouth to speak would result in me losing my breakfast.

Before long, the dusty streets became more populated with the nightlife I had remembered. While before we had stuck to alleyways and secluded areas of the city, now we wanted to be found. I tied up my hair as we passed dozens of wanted posters, decorated with photographs of me from the Bloodbank. Without the layer of hair on my neck, the dark tattoo that announced my blood type was on full show; a tattoo that any vampire knew came with a bounty. 

Once the bank was within sights, the crude, white fountain outside mocking me, Scott pulled us into an alleyway. Outstretched in his hands, the poison.

"All of it?" I asked, breath shuddering.

"Yes. All of it," Scott replied. I took the small bottle from it, and unstopped it. The cork fell to the cobblestones, instantly coated in sand. I exhaled. Inhaled. Yet could not bring the bottle to my lips.

Noticing my hesitation, Scott placed a cold, but welcome, hand on my shoulder.

"I have the flower hidden where he won't find it. I'll be with you every step of the way. Once you drink this, we have days - at least three, before it gets serious."

I shuddered again, "Will it hurt?"

"Not until the final stages, but I won't let it get to that point." Scott replied, brushing a hair from my face, "You might feel a weakness building until then, nothing you can't handle."

"I'm already a weak and feeble human anyway," I exhaled once more, "bottoms up."

I pressed the bottle to my lips, tilting it up, ready to take it like a shot. But the consistency was thicker than I'd expected, the dark sludge slowly moving down the bottle, onto my tongue and down my throat. It burned slightly as it touched my lips - my body knew that this was a substance I should not be consuming. I moved to lower the bottle, to take a break as the burn down my throat became an inferno, but I couldn't lower it. Scott's hand held the bottle fast, immovable until I had downed it all. Tears sprang to my eyes. The moment it was gone, I burst into a coughing fit that did not subside until he handed me a bottle of water. And even then, the singeing along my tongue, sandpaper rough, remained.

"What was that?" I gasped

"It's easier to take it in one, trust me."

"Trust you? You could've warned me!" I threw the bottle to the ground, seething. I expected the bottle to shatter, to demonstrate my anger, but it merely rolled across the cobbles, stopped when it hit a boot. A boot that did not belong to Scott.

"A lover's spat? Already?"

Mason's arms were around me before I could even comprehend his presence, much less the group of men behind him. The bottle rolled back to a gutter, and I prayed he hadn't spotted it.

"How?" I asked, writhing under his grip. My words were laced with genuine surprise: though I knew he would find us, I hadn't expected him to be this soon.

"Oh, we just followed the scent of cowardice," Mason chuckled, roughly pulling my hands behind my back and binding them with rope. He lowered his mouth to my ear, too close. His breath reminded me of the night on the dunes, "the hefty bounty on your back didn't hurt."

"I won't let you take her," Scott stepped towards Mason aggressively - so aggressively that the glass bottle in the gutter shattered under his foot.

"We're not just taking her. We're under instructions to bring you too, lucky," Mason smiled, signalling for his men to bind Scott too. He fought back, hitting one man in the jaw with a right hook, another in the stomach, but it was his aim to get caught, too. It was only as the rope was placed around his wrists, that his skin began to sizzle under it, that I realised he was no longer pretending to be powerless. The ropes were infused with something vampires were allergic to, something that I couldn't feel.

Mason stepped closer to me - too close. He smelled metallic, and wrong; a scent that became overpowering as his hands began to roam my body. His hands lingered in certain places - a rogue finger stroking my breast, another on my ass.  Out of the corner of my eye, Scott's hand balled into a fist, icy veins popping.

"Remember when we were this close?" Mason murmured in my ear, the hand leaving my ass to search my pocket. He pulled out the lighter, and tossed it to the floor. Tutting, he kissed my cheek. Scott growled at this, eliciting a chuckle from Mason.

He then signalled for one of his men to search Scott. That ever present smirk Mason's face widened to a grin as the man returned from his search. But his hands weren't empty as I'd hoped they would be.

"That's a strange place to put a flower."

He threw the Devil's Claw to the ground and twisted it under his boot. A purple sap spread across the dusty pavement, and my breath caught in my throat. That same throat that had been stained with poison mere moments earlier. I continued to stare at the stain on the pavement, even as Mason's men pushed me forwards, towards Tenebris and away from the flower that would have saved my life.

- Author's note -

im back!!!!! the divorce and my cat's tragic death in a car crash are at the back of my mind and all im thinking about is scott now. expect more soon! don't forget to comment

xoxox moist

        p.s scott stored the flower in his buttcrack