Bloodlines: Blood Link

Rescued

Chocolate brown eyes, Alexander's eyes, filled my vision, smiling at me with their usual warmth. But as I watched, they hardened, and seemed to darken. I recognized the effect as he approached me, gleaming white fangs already exposed. I wasn't Eryn, I was food. I tried to run, but my feet were rooted to the spot. I threw my hands up in front of my face and screamed his name.

“Hey hey, wake up! You're having a nightmare.” A firm hand shook my shoulder, and I bolted upright, sweat dripping down my back. Alexander's face was gone from my mind, and in rushed all of the events of last night to fill the void. My mouth contorted into an ugly grimace as I fought to hold back my tears as the memories raced.

“Please don't cry anymore,” a male voice said next to me. My head whipped around and I came face to face with a man, his concerned gray-blue eyes staring at me.

“Wh-who are you?” I stammered, scooting away from him until my back bumped the wall. I was on a couch, in a strange house, with a strange man. A faint recollection of strong arms lifting me the night before made me scowl at him.

“Did you rescue me?” I asked, almost accusingly. He looked taken aback by my tone. He stood and slowly walked to the stove, his brows lowered over his eyes.

“My name is Finn Gallagher,” he said, his broad back turned to me. “And you're welcome.”

“I didn't want to be saved,” I spat. “I wanted to die.”

I watched as he stood facing the stove a second longer, his broad back turned to me, hearing his deep sigh.

“Life is precious these days. It should never be wasted with suicide.” He ambled back to the sofa, holding a bowl. I looked down at my twisted fingers, feeling shamed at his simple words. He offered it to me, and I grudgingly took it. Chicken soup. How cliché. How normal.

“How did you find me?” I asked before taking the first sip. The steaming liquid made me aware of my chilled body, causing me to pull the woven blanket closer around me. The action made me realize that I wasn't wearing the clothes I had been wearing earlier. A large white t shirt dwarfed me, and a pair of gym shorts, drawn tight at the waist, had replaced my skirt and leggings.

“Where are my clothes?” I demanded, tucking the blanket more securely around me. Finn jerked his head toward a narrow door.

“They're in the drier. You were soaked. It wouldn't be practical to try to warm you up and leave you in your icy wet clothes, would it?”

I narrowed my eyes at his logic. “What else did you do to me in the name of practicality while I was asleep?”

He grinned, exposing a row of straight white teeth. “I'll share my secrets when you share yours. What is your name?”

“Eryn Isaacs,” I answered grudgingly, taking another spoonful of soup.

“Nice to meet you, Eryn. What happened last night?” he asked, cutting straight to the point.

I really didn't want to cry in front of this man. “I don't want to talk about it right now,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

“Hey, don't worry about it,” he said immediately, laying his rough hand over mine. I refused to look at him until I regained control of myself, though I knew that tears still stood in my eyes. I offered him a watery smile and he squeezed my fingers in encouragement.

“What happens now?” I asked, reclaiming my hand and drinking more soup.

“You're going to finish your soup,” he said, raising a brow as if challenging me to argue with him. I didn't appreciate being treated like a child, but I raised the bowl and began drinking. It really was helping me warm up though.