“Emmett!” I bark, hoping to break through his fixation.
Silence.
Another step forward, so I take another step back.
His tongue runs over his teeth. “It’s been so long since I’ve wanted to feed. Your blood. It’s driving me wild.”
“E!”
Silence.
“What if I draw some blood for you? Put it in a bag.”
He pauses.
Fuck. What am I saying? It seems to have slowed him down.
“You can… you can taste my blood, but not feed on me. We can teach you control. I will teach you control.”
His eyes look at me. “Teach me?
“Yes. Yes.”
“It doesn’t matter. You blood is the only blood I want. No one else’s smells like yours. It all tastes the same. Like nothing. But yours… I can smell the sweetness on it. The floral notes, the earthy undertones. It will be…”
“Horrible,” I spit out, like my words could convince him otherwise.
I take another step back and the next set of lights click on, illuminating the next part of the room. It takes a minute for my brain to catch up with what my eyes are seeing. A large cage with cuffs on the left. A transition cage? For Jax? Across from it is a large X with leather straps at each end of the X and just to its side is a wooden chair with a U shape type seat. Are these sex toys? What will I see if I keep going deeper into the room?
“Emmett…” I look between him and the cage. “I have an idea.”
He pauses, the distance between us less than a breath apart if he were to lunge.
“Do you want to learn control?”
“Yes,” he pants.
“I will give you my blood, but you have to get in there.” I point at the cage.
The wheels in his head are turning as the anguish and pain on his face grows.
“You’re a good man. You saved me. You don’t want to kill me… and that’s what you will do if you try to feed on me. You won’t be able to stop and you will kill me. You’re good. You saved me. You aren’t a monster.” I feel like a broken record, but I don’t know what else to say or do. I’m giving him what he wants. What he’s struggling against…
He shakes his head no, and the soft ground we’ve been standing on starts to crumble. Fuck, crumble? It washes away like a goddamn avalanche.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, then rushes at me.
The last thing I remember is his hand clasping around my throat.
CALLUM - WISER THAN THE DJINN
Samarawalksintotheroom slowly, looking around like she expects something to jump out at her. I finish stacking the papers up and shuffle them into a neat pile, then stand, sitting the papers on the edge of my desk.
She’s staring at me like she’s waiting for a response.
Right. Have we found her?
“We found her.”
