“Well, she needs blood.”
Callisto will killme.
But I can’t think of what else will help her get through this.
“Human blood,” I say.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
There’s silence on the other end of the line. For a second, I think the dean’s left the phone on his desk and forgotten about me. But then I hear him again.
“Bring her to my office.”
He hangs up, and for a moment, I don’t move, coming to terms with what I’m doing.
Aliz is still sitting on the windowsill, head leaning on the frame. I watch her shoulders rise and fall, gulping down as much of the damp night air as she can. I step back into our room and clear my throat. She turns, and her eyes are bloodshot.
“We need to go,” I say.
“Where?” Her voice is thin, afraid.
“The dean’s office.” Worry freezes her features, but quickly, I add, “We’re going to get you blood, Aliz.”
I watch her as she climbs back down from the windowsill, stealing glances of me. Her face is paler than I’ve ever seen it before, and I could swear her cheeks have a sunken quality to them now.
I get dressed as quick as I can, pulling a jumper over mynightgown, and a pair of jeans beneath it. I cover the tangle of vines on my skin with my tartan scarf. We take the stairs, walking past portraits, keeping a safe distance between ourselves. I stare at the paintings, expecting to see one of the white-haired vampire from my dream. It was Ada Astra, wasn’tit?
“Cassie, I’m sorry,” Aliz says, once we’re outside.
“Don’t be.” I fall into step beside her.
I grab onto her arm as we enter the steep pine grove. “Believe it or not, I actually want you to be all right.” Aliz doesn’t say anything, and my cheeks burn. What if I’ve said too much?
The wind whips at my hair, and I search for a hair tie. She steals it from me before I can use it, and I feel her fingers in my hair, pulling it into a ponytail. I force myself to focus on the wet ground, on the cushion of pine needles. The campus village seems miles away, as though we’re alone in the middle of nowhere.
I start walking again, hoping the howling wind will hide my racing heart.
“If he asks to speak to you alone again, please say no,” Aliz says, as we reach the humanities department. “I don’t trust him. Faust was alive long before the treaties. He’s tasted human blood, so who knows…”
It’s me she shouldn’t be trusting.
Soon we reach the humanities building, and when Nocth says,Come in,he’s not alone. Marcus is standing next to the desk, paler than when I last saw him, and with gauze pressed to the crook of his arm.
“I imagined we were going to pillage a blood bank,” I say, staring at the wineglass half filled with crimson.
“That would entail breaking the treaties, Miss Smith,” Nocth replies, not looking at us. He’s scribbling in a notebook. Only when we shut the door, his gaze snaps up towards me, eyes suddenly crimson with thirst. Aliz stands in front of me, and I don’t have to see her face to know she’s probably on the verge of hissing at him. “Don’t look at me like that, Aliz,” he says. “We’re doing this for you.”
The red leaves his gaze quickly, and he offers me a cold smile. “Before Marcus’s blood goes cold, please.”
“How isthisnot breaking the treaties?” Aliz asks.
Faust leans back in his chair, staring at her with disappointment. “Article fifty-three, section two,” he says. “ ‘The consensual consumption of fresh blood may take place for medical purposes when synthetic blood is not sufficient.’ ”
“But is your Familiar actually consenting?” I ask. I know I shouldn’t be arguing when all I want is for Aliz to get better. But what if Marcus was once like me, with a will of his own? Marcus scoffs, placing the gauze in a dust bin and glaring atme.
“Of course I am,” he snaps. “A paper contract does not involve any form of compulsion. Everything I do for my master, I do willingly.”
