My eyes adjust, and even with my enhanced vampire night vision, it’s really hard to see anything. What is happening? Where am I?
Think, Kip. What do I remember from before I just woke up?
Shit. Pump Palace. Allie…woah, is Allie okay? She hit her head and there was blood…so much blood…everywhere. The craving for it was intense. I couldn’t fight it. All I wanted was to pounce on her and lap up the crimson liquid from the gash in her head like a fucking monster. Tyson was there, trying to stop me. And he did, eventually. But the only thing he could do to get me to stop was to…fuck…he broke my fucking neck! Just snapped it with his hands like a fucking twig. Damn, that hurt.
Second fucking time I’ve broken my neck in like a week. The first time, when I fell from the tree saving Nacho didn’t hurt so much, maybe I was in shock? But this second time, man.
“Tyson!” I yell, my voice echoing off the concrete walls.
I crawl forward on my hands and knees, brushing my hands back and forth as I move until I my hand collides with metal. I tap my fingersagainst the cold steel, and then wrap my fist around it. Steel bars. Standing, I follow along the bars with my hand bumping over each one. There are three walls made of steel bars, and then the back wall of the cell is made of concrete blocks. Because that’s what this is, it’s a cell. A prison. What the hell…
“Tyson!” My voice booms, reverberating back to me. I’ll keep screaming until someone comes and tells me what the fuck is going on. “What the fuck, dude! What is going on?”
I don’t get mad. Never. I’m like the chillest dude you’ll ever meet, but this, this is pissing me off. Tyson is pissing me off. Because he was the one who snapped my neck, he was the last person I saw before I woke up here. He has to be the reason I’m locked up in this fucking weird ass cage.
“You could’ve at least given me a fucking blanket or some shit!” I scream.
A loud screech rings through the air, followed by the clanging of a door hitting a wall. Bright light floods the space.
“Will you stop yelling?” Tyson has the balls to look annoyed withme.
“Tys, what the fuck is going on?”
“You were out of control, bro. I had to take drastic measures.” He shrugs. Fuckingshrugs.
“So you locked me in a fucking cage after breaking my neck?”
Tyson pulls up a chair that was off to the side of the room, sitting backwards on it like we’re having some friendly chat. Sighing, like I’m the one being unreasonable, he says “You out one of us, you out us all man. You went feral at work, and couldn’t control yourself. There are fucking rules, Kip. Which you would know, if you’d let me help you.”
Hmphh. “I looveee how you turn everything into my fault, Tys. Real fucking classy.”
“Isn’t it, though? Your fault, I mean. You’re the one who went into absolute bloodlust over Allie gashing her head open. Which, by the way, she’ll be fine. In case you cared. Minor concussion, and a few stitches, but she’ll heal up just fine.”
I scoff. “Really? Of course I fucking care! It’s like you don’t even know me, Tyson. You know that I hate hurting people. I mean, do yourealize what it will be like to live with the guilt over what I wanted to do to Allie? Instead of wanting to help her I…I…” My voice cracks. “I could’ve killed her, man.”
“I know, buddy. That’s why you’re here. This is for your own good. We just want to help you.” Tyson softly replies.
“How?” Shit, I hate crying, but I can’t help the tears that leak down my face.
“In cases where baby vamps can’t control themselves around blood, and they don’t have a mentor who can control them, the council requires them to be locked up until they can be desensitized and control themselves.”
“What are you talking about? Council? Where the fuck am I, Tys?”
“Beneath the Blood Rose. Think of it as a prison for supernatural beings. They’re kept here until they’re reformed, or their judgement is passed.”
“And who decides that?” God, why is this my life? I just wanted to lift weights and help people. I didn’t ask for this.
“The Supernatural Council. Since it was my blood that turned you, it’s up to me to help you get yourself under control. I get a month to do it. If after a month you can’t control the bloodlust…” Tyson’s words drift off.
I’m pretty sure I know what he’s implying. But I need to hear it flat out. “If I can’t control it after a month…what?”
“You’re exterminated.”
Chapter Seventeen
Charlie
Chill or No Chill
