Meat

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Priya tugged the blankets further up over her body, tucking the edge underneath her chin. The entire room smelled musty and sour, though, from the look of the place, it had been kept spotless for a long time. Everything had its proper place, and despite the fact most of the scents in the room were old and neglected, there was a vase of fresh flowers set on the dresser.

The knock was quiet and tentative but Priya didn't get a chance to say a word before the door opened. He glanced around the room, taking in a deep breath as he stepped inside, his scent so much clearer than the woman who had owned the room. Coiling herself a little tighter on the bed, she watched him as he closed the door behind him and placed a bag on the floor.

It was the new vampire, the one who had been turned a fortnight before the full moon. His brown hair flopped down over his forehead and his wide eyes peered around the room with a cautious interest. Moving further inside, he ran his fingers along the top of the dresser and up the side of the curved vase. He took another deep breath in through his nose, and as his chest rose with the air, he smiled. He looked over at her.

"I'm Thomas," he said, dropping his hands and clasping them in front of him. "August sent me up here to help you. Before I was turned, I was a medical intern. Your alpha agreed that we should set your arm."

Using her good arm to push herself up to sitting, the blankets fell down to rumple across her lap. Priya cradled her broken arm across her stomach.

"You're also the vampire that committed a massacre less than a week ago," she said.

Thomas ran his tongue across his teeth and glanced at the flowers again.

"That's right," he said. "I fed off someone high and... I didn't intend it."

"And that makes it okay?"

"Did you intend to kill Patrick?"

Priya blushed and looked down at her arm.

"Not at first."

"Well, we're in the same boat, right?"

Letting out a bark of laughter, Priya glared back at him.

"I killed one vampire. You killed a half a dozen people."

"I'm a high achiever, always have been," he said, a small smirk curving his lips.

Priya shuffled up the bed away from him. She had seen Spencer with the man before her, known what was happening. She'd told Kaleb about the newly turned vampire and had been told to watch, to not interfere. She knew that killing was in their nature, and yet his cavalier attitude tugged at her.

"Where am I?" she asked.

Thomas picked up the bag and laid it on the foot of the bed. Unzipping it, he drew out a few items and placed them on the blankets.

"You're still in the house. August has given strict instructions over who is allowed to see you."

"Whose room is this?"

Taking a seat on the side of the bed, he glanced at the pillows propped up behind her.

"Cleo," he said. "My sire."

"She was killed for turning you."

He nodded. Priya stared at the patterned blankets, the fresh flowers on the dresser, and wondered who had been taking care to keep her room as pristine as when she had lived in it.

"I saw her a lot," she said after a moment. "The others loved her. They went to her about everything."

Thomas's brow pulled low over his eyes, wrinkles appearing at the bridge of his nose. It was hard to think that true wrinkles would never appear on that young face, that he would stay young and attractive for the rest of his life. He was too thin for her taste, and from seeing him in the club, he didn't have the personality that had drawn her to Matthew. But she couldn't deny that he would have made a popular doctor.

"You knew Cleo?" he asked, his voice no more than a breath from his lips.

"I work in The Fishbowl," she said. "It's one of the favourite spots. She'd come in sometimes, but never to feed. She'd always sit at the bar, watching the others, giving them advice on who to choose."

Picking at the blanket, she glanced across at him.

"I saw your first night, too."

Thomas gulped and rubbed his mouth with the side of his hand. He turned over a rolled bandage in his hand.

"So you know Spencer?"

"Yes. Spencer used to work with me before he was turned. He's probably forgotten by now. He... well, his job was not all that important to him back then."

Nodding, Thomas' gaze became distant. He rolled the bandage in his hand, raking short nails against the loose weave of the material.

"Spencer's in trouble," he said. "A lot of trouble, far more than I made with that coffee shop."

"Why?"

He dug the heel of his hand into his eye and heaved a breath before he spoke.

"He and your friends took a girl."

Taking care to keep her broken arm still, Priya edged along the bed closer to him.

"Why would they be in trouble for that?" she asked. "He's a vampire, Carson is a werewolf. Killing is what they do. It's what we do."

"This is different. The girl they took is the daughter of someone important. August didn't say much, but he said they're like us, but not. Does that make sense?"

Saliva flooded her mouth with the raw taste of death. She'd never thought of killing away from the moon, but now the same urge she'd felt the night before crept up into her chest. Her breath hitched in her throat, pulling her closer to him.

"What's the girl's name?"

Thomas looked at her, his mouth set in a thin line.

"Edeline."

Swallowing back the saliva, Priya gritted her teeth. She snorted and tried to push back the anger flaring in her stomach. Her body felt hot, too hot. The pain in her arm seared like the first crack of transformation.

"You know her?" Thomas asked.

Priya glared past him at the flowers on the dresser. She wanted to pick up the vase and throw it, to see the broken glass and spilled petals and know there was nothing anyone could do to put it back together.

"I know all of them," she snarled. "They're theones who killed my parents."