Take Courage, My Heart

Chapter Thirty-Eight

My head was throbbing again. It was a unique kind of pain and it felt like it went down my entire body all the way to my toes. I groaned, unable to open my eyes just yet, and tried to think back to the last thing that had happened. Vincent had shot me.

I squirmed, confused at the softness underneath me, and thought of rubbing my face with my hands, but I found myself unable to move them. I was tied up again. My eyes squinted open, and I tried to take in my surroundings. I was in a bedroom – at first glance small but warm-toned and cozy– half-naked on a bed with a woman. I had woken up a lot of times in strange places and beds these past few months, but never beside a woman. She was fast asleep but stirred as I looked around. Her large, green eyes went wide when she realized I was awake.

"Vincent said you would wake up soon!" she exclaimed, and I grimaced, not surprised but regardless disappointed. I was still in the nest.

"Who are you?" I asked, voice rough and scratchy, as she pushed herself up and settled on my lap. Her lips were thin and rose-colored, and her hair was blond and curly but messy from sleep. She was human, I could smell that much. And she was covered in old, bruised, and new bitemarks. A pet, most likely.

"I'm Syndey," she trilled and offered me her wrist. "Want a bite?"

I recoiled despite being tempted. Drinking blood would make me stronger and Vincent wasn't in the room to monitor how much I would drink. It was just us. But the little smile on her lips and the dazed look in her eyes averted me from biting. She wanted to be a pet. It looked like she liked being a pet.

My eyes drifted around, taking in my surroundings. My hands were held and tied up to the upper metal part of the headboard of the bed I was on. I could move around on the bed, the chain giving me enough room for it, but unless I broke the chain there was no way out. The bed was tucked in a corner, the headboard and one side of it against the sage green and gold baroque wallpaper. By the nightstand was a window and even from the weird angle I could tell that it was bared from the outside. Close to the only other exit –the door– was a dresser and a vanity, both made out of dark mahogany wood. It was a pretty room, the chandelier was a bit much, but I wanted out. I was still in the mansion, and I had killed one of the elders.

"Where is Vincent right now?" I asked Sydney. She had lowered her wrist when I declined but was still seated on my lap. She shrugged and at last, got off my lap.

I watched her as she left the room, leaving the door open, and then tried to pinpoint what sounds I could hear. Water was running in a shower somewhere. Jonathan was downstairs, talking to someone whose voice I couldn't recognize. A few bedrooms down I could hear moans and I tried to block that out. Downstairs more heartbeats echoed, but they were not as discernable, I was still starving.

Sydney came back balancing a porcelain bowl in her hands, water slushing in it. She set it down on the nightstand careful not to spill any of the water and climbed on top of me again. Her lips pulled back in a smile, and she picked up the rag that was set in the bowl, wrung it, and started dabbing at my forehead, wetting and cleaning up crusty blood.

Her pulse was deafening. My eyes were zeroed in on the blue veins in her wrist from the hand that was cleaning me up while her other hand was on my chest to balance herself. She was pale, probably born very light-toned and not being done any favors by the constant feeding. I forced myself to look away from her wrist, my fangs having come down and my gums aching. I traced the length of her arm up, lingered on the red rash surrounding the enflamed bitemarks, and then looked up at her face.

She had freckles, pale but still there, and dimples poked out even though she wasn't smiling. Her hair reached just barely under her clavicle, and she was wearing a stretched black tee and leggings. When I looked back up at her face she was smiling but her attention was still on the old blood trails on the side of my face and down my neck.