Sweet Obsession (In Progress)

Chapter Eight: Part Two

A/N: Sorry I was gone forever. Explanation is in my bio on my profile. Weekly updates are hopefully back and will remain so if we can keep climbing the ranks. Love you. Missed you. Please vote, comment, and share.

Picture is of the vanity area. Accept no window and place vanity below mirror. Bathroom is to the right of vanity. Bed is to left of white curtain.
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I was dying. I knew it was true, and yet, in the sickest way possible... I craved death's empty embrace as much as I craved to feel Daemon's jaw crack under my fist.

I was tired of the games. I wanted answers, and dámnit I'd have them, or Lord help the sly devil himself, because there would be Hëll to pay.

I was brought out of my thoughts by a viscous snarl sounding to my immediate left. Either my eyes were closed and refused to open, or I was shrouded in complete darkness.

I moved to push myself up to a sitting position and that's when it returned full force. The pain. The everloving endless agony. It radiated out all over my body, but what absolutely chilled me, was the reliazation that it was centered at the crook my neck.

Something was biting me.

I let out a strangled scream and felt, whatever had ahold of me, give a gentle tug where it had it's teeth sunk in me. Shoving at it proved to be a huge mistake, as the second I applied pressure on the beasts warm flesh, it let out an animalistic growl and tore away from me sharply, without unclenching its jaws.

I slapped my hand against the gushing wound quickly and opened my mouth to cry out, but what came out just sounded like a shaky exhale. Silent tears rolled down my face as my eyes moved up to meet my attacker's, taking in their surprisingly human frame. A small amount of moon light flitted down from the ceiling, washing over them, but it wasn't enough to see a whole lot, which I guess explains why I hadn't seen it before.

As my eyes raked upwards and my heartrate increased rapidly. Blood ran down a toned and well, very well, defined male torso and chest, etched with deep groves between muscles. And then they moved further upwards, and my breathing ceased. There, where the light cut off, was his face. I could only see his mouth and part of his nose, but the area around the arrogant bastards smirking lips, was smeared with blood. My blood.

I was about to take out my anger in a way that probably included gouging this guys eyes out and force feeding them to him, when he spoke for the first time, striking an unreal amount of fear and shock into me. 

"Hello, little bird."

It was him. My assailant was him. But why?

I couldn't think, I couldn't breath, and I'd lost a lot of blood. I panicked, trying to kick away from Daemon when I saw him move to come closer, and that's when I blacked out.

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I woke up with Ivy to my right, sitting on a chair that must've been brought in for her. She had a damp cloth in her hands and was ringing it out above, what appeared to be, a small basin full of ice water.

"Oh!" Ivy squeaked, no doubt startled when she had turned towards me, only to find me watching her. "You're awake, my lady. That's good. I'll go let Jonah know to fetch the doctor and inform-" she seemed to hesitate, before continueing, "Daemon of your current state."

And just like that she bounded over to the door, gave a few raps against the wooden mass, and spoke in a quick, efficient manner with Jonah before returning to my side.

I placed my hand gingerly to the left side of my neck, as Ivy busied herself with searching for something in a canvas bag on the floor. When my fingers brushed against bare skin, I sucked in a breath, anticipating pain. But none came. I ran my whole hand over the wound know, cupping the smooth, unmarred area in shock.

How could that be possible?

Ivy drug my attention to her when she shoved a thermometer in front of my mouth saying, "Open please." When I just stared at it skeptically, she gently added, "We have to be sure the fever is down, and then you can get up and get a bath if you want."

Slowly I pried my dry lips open and allowed her to place the metal tip under my tongue. After a few minutes it beeped and Ivy glanced at its reading, a wild grin breaking over her face. "98.7," she announced. "Would you like to get cleaned up before the doctor arrives, miss?"

"Yes, that would be great," I croaked, throat scratchy. Ivy handed me a cool glass of water from my night stand and I greedily drank it down, before handing it back. "Will you be here when the doctor comes?" I genuinely wanted to know because I liked Ivy and I knew her. This doctor I didn't know. And while I doubted they would hurt me, the idea of being alone in a room with yet another stranger unsettled me.

"I can be if you'd like," she giggled, dissapearing into the bathroom.

"Thank you. Oh, and Ivy?" I paused, waiting for her reply.

"Yes?" I had an idea. A devious, worth while idea.

"How long was I out for? With the fever I mean." The sound of my pulse pounding rapidly filled my ears as I scooted off the bed and grabbed the pitcher of water. I tip toed over to the nearest plant, dumpping the contents out before rushing back to my bed, and ever so quietly dropping the pitcher back onto the small table next to it.

"Maybe a day and a half," came Ivy's reply, voice now elevated so as to be heard over the now running water.

"I see," I mumbled, knowing she couldn't hear me.

Just then, Ivy waltzed back into the room. A quick glance at the empty water pitcher had her lips pulling up into a sympathetic smile. "You must me so thirsty. And famished too!" she said, the last part clearly an afterthought. "I'll go get you something from the kitchen. Your bath is ready whenever you are."

Grabbing the pitcher she swung around and made to exit the room, but when she got to the door this time, I listened very carefully.

Rap tap tap tap tap rap tap.

Garbled words from the other side.

And then, Ivy stated her name, title, and the number 145. The door swung open and she stepped out before it was quickly shut and locked behind her.

I ran to my vanity, plucking a dark eyeliner from the array of make up neatly arranged on the flat surface and tore back to my bed. Grabbing a pillow case, I scrawled the sequence for knocking, and the words she had spoke across the white fabric, before flipping the pillow over and placing it back.

I was going to have to do it before I saw the bastard that bit me or his doctor, but I was going to escape. And I was going to escape tonight.