Whatever life she lived before doesn’t define her now. To me, she is a Bleeder.
Does she look at us and see livestock?
I stare at the ceiling, waiting and longing to hear the sound again.
CHAPTER NINE
SOLAR RADIATION
All Feeding Grounds must provide Feeders with food, water, clean bedding, clothing, and medical care to ensure they are healthy enough to donate blood.
— Serun’s Law
“Done.”
I roll down my sleeve, covering the cotton secured by tape in the bend of my arm. A wave of nausea crashes against me, pressing into my thoughts like fingers into dough, and everything blurs.
I glare at the painting on the wall defiantly. A Feeder kneeling to our “gods” in shadows.
With a deep breath, I take a step, wobble, and crash into the chair next to me. Wooden legs scrape against the tiles as my hands tighten on the seat to keep myself from falling. I grip it tightly and somehow awkwardly manage not to make a bigger fool of myself.
Get a grip, Saya. If you fall, they will take you away from Cole. The Bleeders will send you to the private room, and you will meet your fate in the fangs of a nightwalker. You’re still human. Your heart still beats.
A deep breath fills my lungs while the sterile-tasting air congeals and thickens with acidic bile. I push on, making my way towards the exit. To keep my mind from spinning, I focus on counting my steps.
The bloodbank painting, intended to motivate us to bleed, warps and melds together. Hair fuses with four eyes, and with every forceful, heavy-lidded blink, those four eyes transform into two impenetrable crimson stones. The nightwalker depicted in the painting, with its dark reds and deep blacks, glares at me as though alive.
I reach the doorway. Without looking back, I lean against the wall outside and close my eyes. My head pounds like claps of thunder. My arms ache, pulsing like a blood vessel ready to burst. My stomach grumbles loudly, warning me that I need to eat to survive.
I open my eyes to find the Bleeder from inside the bloodbank watching me. “Follow me to the mess hall.”
This is new.
Curious about the expression hidden beneath the mask, I examine her critically. She appears to be doing the same. Are they trialling a new protocol?
The doors to the mess hall swing open down the corridor. As I walk in, she remains with the other Bleeders. Intense gazes focus on me as I make my way to the empty line. The Bleeder serving the food places bread, a boiled egg, and a cup of water on my tray. As usual.
This is far from enough. I pick it up anyway because without it, I have nothing.
I sit beside Cole, then Emily joins us. Her smile tightens around the edges as I struggle to grip my cup and take a sip.
Cole doesn’t look my way when I give him my boiled egg. I snatch the bread and tear into it, making sure not a single crumb is missed.
“Where’s Manni?” I ask after taking a sip of water to wash down the lump of stale bread lodged in my throat.
“Over there,” says Jax, his voice steady but laced with irritation. I look at him, noting the serious expression on his face, before I find Manni chatting with Julien a few tables away from us.
Shit.
I meet Jax’s stern gaze. “Sorry,” I whisper.
He sets his bread and hard-boiled egg on my tray. “We’ll talk about it later.”
I shake my head, yet my hands seem to act on their own and reach for the bread.
Jax leans in, kisses my temple, and says, “They’re watching.Eat.”
Nearby, two Bleeders have moved away from the doors of the mess hall. The woman who brought me in stares at me quite obviously—at least, as obviously as possible behind a mask.
