Off With His Head

42. Look at us now

Isolation passes by in a blur, helped along by Caleb who spends countless hours telling me everything I need to know about vampires, hunters and their history. It's all very fascinating, if a bit monotonous at times, but at least it serves as a good distraction for both of us.

I do my best to concentrate, but I often find my mind drifting to the medical ward above us. In the moments before I fall asleep at night, all I can see is ocean blue and reluctant smiles. When I wake up, it's broad shoulders and cropped blonde hair. Those few minutes every day, when I'm consumed with thoughts of Zach are what get me through the time in the cell.

Though Caleb and I talk non-stop during the days we are stuck in isolation, the one subject that he never brings up is Zach. Not that I can blame him for it. The emotional wound is still as fresh as our physical ones, and I need to give Caleb the time to heal before I callously bring it up.

By the time Angie comes to take a sample of my blood, I already know it's going to come back clear. I watch as she pokes the needle in my skin and draws the crimson liquid without so much as a flinch, which I'm quite proud of myself for. Despite all my injuries, and the copious amount of pain killers coursing through my body, I feel relatively normal.

Well, I don't want to eat anyone, and I take that as a good sign.

Caleb's the same, and I marvel at how lucky he is, escaping turning not once, but twice. I'm convinced it must be a record, until Caleb tells me about a Hunter called Ezra Nottingham, who was bitten six times and never turned.

Lideri has visited us twice, to let us know Zach's progress, and to check on ours. Apparently, Zach is on the mend after multiple blood transfusions and too many stitches to count. Lideri says he's recovering really well, but I won't believe it until I see it myself.

As soon as Angie arrives back to inform us of our clean blood work, I pounce. "So, can I go to the medical ward now?"

She eyes me warily, assessing my injuries. "I wouldn't recommend it, Peyton. Your body has been through a lot and you need some time to recover. I've already had to redo the stitches on your stomach once, I don't want to do it again. It might be better if you stay down here for another few days, instead of straining yourself."

"But, technically I am allowed to leave, right?" I look towards Caleb's cell, where he sits on his bed watching our exchange with interest.

"Yes," she agrees hesitantly. "But like I said, I think you should stay here."

"Angie, Angie, Angie." I shake my head with a small smile. "It's like you don't even know me. Even after all our time together."

"I'm not going to convince you, am I?" She asks, letting out a chuckle when I cross my arms in defiance. "Just please be careful and don't walk too fast."

"Thank you." With her permission, I'm out of the cell like a shot. Well, technically, I move about as fast as a limping tortoise, but it's as quick as I can manage.

The journey takes me three times longer than usual with many breaks in between. My body screeches in agony, pulsing and throbbing in time with my footsteps. But, as soon as I see the familiar exterior of the medical ward, I quicken my pace, ignoring the pain that shoots through my abdomen.

I poke my head around the door, breathing a massive sigh of relief when I see Zach sitting up on his bed, taking small sips from a glass of water. Time seems to slow down as his ocean eyes look up to meet mine and a wide smile crosses his face.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, dancing around like they're at a nightclub, and I wonder how the hell I didn't notice this feeling before. How could I have missed this? Even now, as I stand in the doorway, it's as though an invisible thread is pulling me towards him.