The Year 3000

Chapter 13: His Demons

[WARNING: EXPLICIT CONTENT MAY TRIGGER SOME READERS]

Scarlett's POV

Previously:

Through my foggy mind, my last thought was of Ashton. Then there was only darkness as I fell into unconsciousness.

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My eyes shot open as the burning sensation in my throat became unbearable. The air was so clear and crisp, as if I could see every dust bunny and particle. But I paid little attention to this. I was more focused on the figure kneeling with his head down. I could smell him from across the room, sweet and intoxicating. I let out a low growl as I shot out of bed. Somehow, I was standing next to him in less than a second.

The figure's head snapped up, his baby blue eyes making me pause momentarily. I shook my head, falling on my knees next to him and driving my teeth into his neck without a second thought. I needed his blood: I needed the burning to stop. My now-sharpened teeth easily pierced the soft skin of the male's neck. I moaned as I started sucking, blood bursting delightfully into my mouth, the burning in my throat finally subsiding. Now that I could concentrate on something other than the searing pain in my throat, I noticed that the male was speaking. His voice slowly came into focus.

"Scarlett! Scarlett stop! This isn't you. Control yourself!"

I froze when he said my name.

Scarlett.

My eyes shot open, and like a switch had been flipped, I snapped out of my bloodlust. Slowly I retracted my fangs, reaching up and feeling their sharp tips with my fingers before they disappeared. Reluctantly, I looked up into the blue eyes of the familiar boy.

"L-Luke?" My voice trembled pitifully. Luke nodded and tried to move his hands, but they were chained up, as were his feet. I quickly tore through both chains, astonished at my own strength. My lips were trembling as I looked down at the slowly healing bite mark I had inflicted upon Luke's poor neck, the same neck I had traced lightly in my head only days ago. I immediately fell back, horror etched into my features.

"I-I—" I broke off, my eyes as wide as saucers. My trembling hand slowly came up to cover my mouth.

Harry turned me.

No, this is just a bad dream. I'm just dreaming. None of this is real. It can't be real. I can't be . . . I couldn't even think the word. I blinked furiously, shaking my head repeatedly, until I froze when something occurred to me.

"Luke," I started slowly, "You're a vampire, and I . . . I just drank from you, is that-how-what-" I broke off, trying to get my thoughts together.

"I only drink animal blood, which somehow makes my blood non-toxic, from what Harry told me. That's why he made me your blood slave," Luke explained, cheek twitching as Harry's name left his lips.

"Harry did this to you," I repeated, before freezing. "Blood slave? You're a blood slave?" I asked, my voice an octave higher. Luke nodded grimly, starting towards me. I shook my head in denial, wrapping my arms around my torso to try and physically hold myself together.

"This is my fault. I asked him to reconsider his life sentence on you, to-to make you something useful . . . I thought that he would just make you a cook or something, I didn't even think that you could be a blood slave." I shook my head once again, looking down in horror.

"God, I'm so sorry." I felt pathetic. How could sorry ever possibly make up for this? My lips trembled as I stared at him in sheer hopelessness. Luke tried to close the distance between us, but I shot back, holding my arms up.