"I said finish it!" Reuben's voice sharpened with impatience.
Simon's body tensed. Charlie felt the command take hold, felt Simon's resistance weaken under its weight. The hand on his chest pressed harder, the beginnings of real force behind it now.
Charlie's mind raced.
This couldn't be how this ended. It couldn't be.
But how could Charlie get through to Simon?
Charlie had been able to disobey Simon's command once, but the hold Reuben seemed to have on Simon was so much stronger in comparison. Reuben had had years to strengthen his control. Years in which he'd fed Simon his blood.
Blood.
That was what it came down to, wasn't it?
The thought made Charlie's stomach turn, but what if he fed Simon his own blood? Would that reignite the bond between them?
Even now, after everything, his body rebelled at the idea. His gums tingled as his fangs descended against his will, and a waveof dizziness swept over him. "You can do this," he told himself. "For Simon."
Charlie raised his arm, positioning his wrist near his mouth.
Simon's grip on his throat loosened slightly, confusion flickering across his face at Charlie's movement.
Charlie ignored him. He needed to focus.
He brought his wrist closer to his lips, fangs grazing his own skin. His heart hammered painfully against his ribs.
God, was he really going to do this?
Yes, he was.
"Don't faint," he commanded himself. "Don't you dare faint now."
With a shuddering breath, Charlie bit down.
The taste hit him immediately. It was wrong, so wrong, and it made his head swim with nausea. The same sick dizziness that had plagued him since his turning washed over him. Charlie's vision darkened at the edges, his stomach revolting at the contact with his own blood.
But he pushed through it, tearing through skin and vein. Blood,hisblood, welled immediately, the sight of it making his knees go weak.
"Simon," Charlie gasped, holding out his bleeding wrist while fighting to stay conscious. "Drink."
Simon's nostrils flared. His eyes fixed on the blood, pupils dilating sharply. The hand at Charlie's throat went completely slack.
"What is this?" Reuben took a step forward. "Simon, I ordered you to finish this. Now."
Simon's body jerked as the command took hold again. His grip returned to Charlie's throat, pinning him more firmly against the wall. But his eyes never left the blood dripping from Charlie's wrist.
"You know me," Charlie insisted, pushing through the dizziness, the nausea. He pressed his bleeding wrist closer to Simon's face. "You chose me over everything. Remember how you saved me? From the roof? From myself?"
For an eternal moment, Simon didn't move. Then, almost imperceptibly, his head tilted toward Charlie's bleeding wrist. His nostrils flared again, drinking in the scent. His eyes, still cold, held a new intensity.
"Simon!" Reuben's voice cracked across the room. "I said finish it!"
Simon went rigid. He slammed Charlie harder against the wall, knocking the breath from him. His free hand pinned Charlie's bleeding wrist above his head, away from temptation.
"No," Charlie gasped, struggling against Simon's grip. His vision swam, both from the impact and from his body's continued protest at his self-inflicted wound. "Please, Simon. It's me. It's Charlie."
"He can't hear you," Reuben said, approaching now. "Not anymore. My blood has burned away everything he felt for you." He reached into his jacket and withdrew a polished wooden stake. "Here, Simon. Since you seem to be dragging this out, allow me to provide the proper tool."
