Say Live, Let Die

Chapter 26: "my twisted passion to be your world"

"No!"

David came awake with such force it hurt him. His head ached, his mouth was dry, and his joints screamed as he flailed. His talons sunk into something soft. He tore into it, until a plume of feathers filled the air, some getting in his mouth. Blinking, he realized he was panting harshly, gasping for air.

He couldn't remember where he was. The room was dark but he wasn't hanging upside down from a pipe, in a dark cavern deep inside the cave. Why had he just destroyed a feather pillow? Where were the other Boys? Why was he alone?

Struggling to get up, David fell off the bed, landing beside it on the plush carpet. He crawled on his hands and knees around the bed frame, too dizzy to stand up, too weak to walk. He wanted to cry out for help but his tongue felt stuck to the roof of his mouth and his mind couldn't form the words.

David smashed into the door, snarling as the pain blossomed in his nose. He scratched the wood with his talons before finally finding the doorknob. It took a minute for him to remember how to twist it open.

Somehow he got to his feet, leveraging himself up with the help of a wall. He was in a hallway now. There were lights at the end of it. David could hear voices. Leaning against the wall, he rested, trying to make sense of his surroundings and get control of his body, his thoughts.

Panting, David struggled down the hallway, leaning against the steady wall, his footsteps clumsy. Before long he reached the living room, now devoid of occupants, everything put back in its place. David grabbed on tightly to the back of the couch, using it to pull himself towards the voices.

Unsteadily David made it into the dining room, his eyes smarting against the bright lights that illuminated the space. The soft whoosh sound of the ceiling fan blades hurt his ears. His senses were overloaded, unstable. What the hell was wrong with him?

The first face he saw he recognized: Marko. He was alive? How was that possible? He had been staked in the chest, had fallen to the dirt floor, writhing in agony before death took him!

Gripping the corner of the wall, David turned his head, trying to focus on the second figure in the dining room. Again, recognition came easily. But how was Beth here? She had left Santa Carla, left David behind! When had she come back?

The two vampires were playing a game of dominoes; why David knew that, he was unsure. Half his mind seemed to be completely aware but a connection was not being made to the other half. He stumbled as he pushed away from the wall, unsteady on his feet, as he moved closer.

Beth sat at the head of the table, clad in a black bikini top, a colorful beach towel wrapped around her waist. Her wet hair was twisted up and clipped out of her face. David was shocked at how naked she seemed; normally she was as dressed as him, covered from neck to feet. It bothered him, her bare skin on display, even if she was alone with just Marko.

Speaking of, the other Lost Boy was sitting to the blonde's left, smoking a joint and eyeing the tiles on the table. His jacket was hung on the back of a different chair, leaving him clad in the dirty white tank top and blue jeans he preferred, his muscular arms bare. Someone had braided back his long curls, working the string, trinkets, and other ephemera into the plait. The peanut butter jar of bones sat on top of the table, at Marko's elbow.

"What the hell is going on? What time is it?" David yelled loudly, gripping the back of a chair, as his knees started to wobble. The other vampires looked up from their game just in time to see their leader falter on his feet.

"Whoa, bud, you okay?" Marko shoved his chair back and came over to where David stood. David pushed away Marko's outstretched hand.

"What are you wearing?" He growled at Beth.