Bloodbank

Three

"Get up," Scott growled, hastily lifting me off my feet and dragging me towards the town, my entire body coated in sand as I breathed it in, my already scorched lungs burning with every intake of hot air.

Scott seemed to be in a hurry as he pulled my arm, roughly taking me across the road, towards a large wooden building. The others were still making their way down the sand dune as we entered the building, which was air conditioned and blissfully cool. It seemed to be some kind of a market inside, with vendors selling a variety of foods and trinkets, from a small store selling homemade blood soup to a jewellery seller with decadent necklaces and beautiful beads.

I was too distracted by the market to notice Scott pinning me against the wall until his hot breath was on my neck, his hood pulled down and the skin on his hands an angry red colour from the sun. I gasped, his nose only inches from mine, his eyes a burning intensity that screamed hatred at me.

"You move so much as a millimetre away from me, I will hurt you," he growled, my heart a drumroll in my chest. I nodded curtly, noticing how his eyes drifted to my neck; he must have sensed my thrumming pulse. He pounded me against the wall, my head swaying with dizziness, "do you understand me?"

"Yes," I said, meaning for my voice to come out strong and sure, but instead only a raspy shadow of my former self escaped, my throat itching for water.

"She needs a drink," Nathan said, having caught up, his hood also down. Mason and Maxine stood behind him, Mason looking considerably paler than the vampires beside him.

Scott frowned, before nodding and pulling me over to the nearest store, which seemed to sell bottled vintage bloods, with the fanciest dating almost a century ago.

"Water, please," Nathan asked the vendor, who seemed rather taken aback by the request, before reaching under the store and producing a gallon of bottled water, "How much?"

The man seemed to think about the question for a while, sizing up Mason and me, "250 ml of fresh B or A. Or 100 ml of AB,"

"250 ml of B it is," Maxine said, producing a large syringe, grabbing Mason's arm.

"No! Take any more of his blood and he'll die," I coughed, Mason looking too weak to defend himself. I turned to the vendor, "how about type O?"

The vendor's face of shock quickly turned to that of greed as Scott clamped his hand over my mouth.

"She was lying," Scott smiled, noticing that the man wasn't buying it, "We'll give you 300 ml type B if your keep this quiet,"

The man smiled, nodding in agreement as Maxine handed him the syringe, now filled with the crimson substance. Scott grabbed the bottle off the table, and pushed it towards my lips.

I shook my head, "Mason first,"

Scott rolled his eyes, before handing the bottle to Mason and untying the rope around his hands, allowing him to take in massive gulps of the liquid. Nathan removed my own rope as I gingerly took sips, the cool water soothing my throat and easing the pounding in my head.

Maxine later led us up a set of stairs, to a clean hotel room, with fitted blackout blinds and three single beds. Scott and Maxine immediately collapsed on the beds, leaving Mason, who was barley standing, myself, and Nathan, who had the task of tying us to the railing on the balcony, in the early morning sun, as instructed by Scott, because 'we needed the vitamin D'. I noticed that Nathan left my ropes looser than before, kindly setting the bottle of water beside me, not that I had any way of reaching it, before he went to sleep alongside his companions.

"Are you alright?" I asked Mason as soon as I saw Nathan's breathing even out.

"I'll survive," Mason muttered, and I nodded, my hands writhing around behind me in an attempt to break free from the binding, "what are you doing?"

"Escaping," I replied, my voice low.

"Go to sleep, Ebony," Mason pleaded, "you'll need your strength,"

I squinted at him in the bright light of the sun as I managed to remove one hand from the rope. I made quick work of removing the other and stood, stretching out my tightened muscles.

"Ebony, don't," Mason warned, "if they find you, they'll kill you,"

"I'm too valuable for that," I replied, desperate to get away from Scott, and never return, "Are you coming or not?"

"Ebony!" Mason yelled, and I noticed Scott stirring in his sleep. Shaking my head in disbelief, I carefully climbed over the railing of the balcony, and dropped onto the pavement below, being only a storey up. Ignoring Mason's calls behind me, I took off into the streets.