“I’m not really a nutritional shake kind of girl. Besides, how do I know it’s not poisoned?” I eyed him suspiciously.
“Would I go through the trouble of saving you just to harm you?”
“I don’t know. Would you?”
He sighed. “Just drink it.”
I eyed the thick-looking liquid. “What’s in it?”
“Of for fuck’s sake,” he exclaimed. He snagged the glass from my hand and tipped it, gulping several mouthfuls before handing it back. “Satisfied?”
“Somewhat.” Guess it wouldn’t kill me. I put it to my lips, not the same spot he’d touched, of course, and took a sip. The smoothie turned out to be unexpectedly warm, thick, salty, and… delicious?
I must have been thirstier than I realized because I chugged the glass.
“More?” he asked, holding up the decanter.
I nodded and swigged back a full second glass before licking my lips and asking, “That was delicious. What flavor of smoothie was it?”
“Blood.”
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I said it was blood. As in, plasma from the human body. The stuff that leaks when flesh is wounded.”
“Ew!” I shrieked, dropping the glass?—
Which he caught before it hit his white rug.
I blinked. No one could move that fast. But rather than focus on that, I freaked out. “Why the hell would you give me blood to drink?”
“Because you needed it.”
“What I need is real food, you psycho.” I backed away from Cillian wondering if I’d make it to the exit given how fast he could move.
“You remember being injured.” Stated not asked.
“Yeah. Kind of.” I slid a foot back.
“You were hit by a car. Intentionally, I should add.”
“By Theodore Gavin,” I spat. “Fucker killed my cat and then tried to murder me.”
“Didn’t just try. If I’d not come across you, you would have died.”
“You took me to a hospital?” I couldn’t help a questioning note because I knew how the healthcare system worked. Great if you had insurance or money, not so good if you had no coverage, like me.
“No hospital. There was nothing doctors could have done to help, hence why I healed you.”
My brow knit into a few furrows. “Healed me how? While I’m not sure of the extent of my injuries, pretty sure I had some broken bones.”
“You did. At least a dozen breaks. Bruising as well, and internal bleeding.”
“As if you could tell. What are you, a doctor?”
“No, but I’m very attuned to living things. You were dying.”
“We already confirmed that. How did you get me to not die?” I asked, hoping to finally get a clear answer.
