Samantha drops that bomb and turns to face the steering wheel, backing out of the alleyway like a bat out of hell.
“Is that true?” I ask softly to Warin.
“It’s not your problem,” he says plainly.
“You saved my life back there. I’m the reason you got burned,” I say softly.
Without him, I wouldn’t be here. If it’s my blood he needs, that’s an easy sacrifice. It’s more than guilt over him saving me and being injured, there’s this pull to him I’ve been denying myself and seeing him hurt is sending an ache through my chest.
“I can help you, I want to help you,” I say, looking down at his poor face.
“Take us to the bunker,” Warin whispers so softly, I’m almost positive I didn’t hear him right.
“You’ll need to be back before nightfall,” Samantha says from the driver’s seat.
Warin doesn’t answer, and he noticeably doesn’t respond to my offer or look at me. Not knowing what else to do, I place a hand on his chest, knowing that hasn’t been burned. There’s no heartbeat, no movement. But when his gloved hand covers mine, a sense of relief fills me.
My plan today was to run away from him, and instead I had to convince him to let us leave together. I’m not sure what’s happening, why I feel this way, or why I can’t stop it.
But as Warin holds my hand, as he sits there in pain, I’m starting to realize that there’s no way I’m ever truly escaping Warin. What’s more confusing is I don’t think I want to.
The drive isn’t long, the road is unpaved, rocks hitting the side of the vehicle as Samantha zooms down the dirt road. Warin is clearly in pain, but doesn’t complain about Samantha’s reckless driving.
We finally reach the end of the road. All I can see is a large hill. It would be easily climbable. Samantha puts her balaclava back on, and glances back at us, casting a worried glance.
“Ready to hold the umbrella again?” she asks, and I nod, grabbing it, popping it open in the car as Samantha opens the door.
Moving Warin is harder, and it has my stomach filled with lead. I have my own injuries, but I don’t even feel them as we round the hill. Samantha leans Warin against the grassy mound, opening up a panel.
She inputs a code and the mechanism whirls as a door slides open.
I was expecting a military bunker, but the space is actually relatively cozy. A red and brown Turkish rug takes up the majority of the space, along with a queen bed and a small kitchen area.
Samantha hefts Warin up on the bed, lying him down.
“I’ll be just outside,” she says, more to me than him.
She doesn’t linger, rushing out the door, the harsh metal clanging in her wake.
I sit on the bed, pushing all my pinkish hair to the side of my neck. I’m sure he can hear how wild my heart rate is. I’m really about to do this, aren’t I?
I’m offering myself on a platter for the vampire who’s tricked me, lied to me, and stalked me. But he’s also taught me, protected me, and saved me.
While I’m not sure those things completely cancel each other out, it feels significant.
“Drink, Warin,” I tell him.
He doesn’t stir, and I look down at him, trying not to have a reaction to how he looks.
“Is this the equivalent of a pity fuck?” he grates out and I can’t help but to laugh.
“We’re friends, right?”
“Mmm. Do friends let friends drink their sweet, magical blood?”
At least he seems to be getting a bit of himself back. Though he attempts to hide his burned face from me.
“In the same way, friends don’t let friends get staked in the face.”
