Shifters (Feline english version)

Chapter 22

- 'What's the matter?' I asked in one breath, as I looked up at him, suspecting things must be serious.

- 'Aria has disappeared,' he said in a quavering voice as he picked up his phone.

He had to realize from my silence that I didn't know who he was talking about because he added:

- 'She's Charles' granddaughter, she's only eight years old...'

- 'Oh, my God! Are they starting to attack the children now?'

I was shocked. Even though I didn't hold Charles in my heart, that little girl didn't deserve this. No one deserved this. Not even him.

- 'Yes, we no longer have a choice, we have to try it,' he said in a pleading and resigned tone. 'If you still agree, of course...'

I didn't even answer him, merely stared at him and his stupid question.

- 'I admit that the main reason I discouraged you from doing something so risky is that there was a good chance they were all dead... You know that?' he asked me gently with a little apologetic glance.

There again, I answered nothing and simply stared at him while waiting for him to continue.

- 'At that time, I thought it wasn't worth it, even though I wanted to know what happened to them as much as you did. But now... it's different. Aria's kidnapping changed the game. She's just a child and she's only been missing for two hours. We still have a chance to find her alive.'

- 'If you are willing to do it, you know very well that I am as well,' I replied in a voice that I hoped calm and determined, before looking him straight in the eye so that he would know that I would not flinch.

- 'Well... Come here,' he said nicely, sitting on the couch and patting the spot next to him.

I joined him a little shaky. I was about to do something very likely irreversible, it was quite nerve-racking. It had to be done before Worth arrived. We didn't know the potential side effects and we may need time to recover from them. But we didn't have any time, so we might as well do it as soon as possible. It would also save us from overthinking, which was not bad. We both thought so; although we didn't exchange any words, one look had been enough.

Jude pulled a small knife out of a sheath cleverly hidden in his sleeve (this man was a real armoury, my god!), drew me against him with his right arm, then slightly cut his left wrist, as I had done a few days before, before putting it under my nose.

- 'Drink up.'

I remained frozen. Unable to do anything else but watch the blood flow lazily from the wound, so small that it was already closing again.

- 'You know, I deliberately portrayed the worst possible scenarios to discourage you, but the truth is that we have no idea what to expect. It may not be so bad or permanent after all,' he whispered gently in my ear.

I could not determine precisely who he wanted to reassure most, him or me. However, it didn't matter much. I had this brilliant idea, it was now my turn to accept the responsibility. I took a deep breath to calm myself, then approached his wrist, notched again, to my mouth.

I quickly realized that breathing was a bad idea, the sweet, metallic smell of blood made me nauseous. So I held my breath, closed my eyes and put my mouth on the wound. It wasn't flowing enough for me to really "drink", so I just licked the wound a little like a cat licking its milk and fortunately, because it was a horrible experience from start to finish.

I had to fight every second against the desire to spit it out and against my increasingly violent gags. After a time that seemed endless to me, I pushed his wrist as far away from me as possible and tried to breathe as best I could through my mouth so that the smell would not make my nausea worse.