She winks.
With a sigh, I turn away from my friends and followthe Bleeder. My thoughts wander to Cole. I’m relying on Jax to help my brother at the bloodbank today because I won’t be there to do it myself.
The Feeders from the men’s bathrooms approach, and I stop to scan the sea of faces. Jax and I lock eyes, and his relief at seeing me is palpable. He is walking with Cole, and too quickly, they are almost out of sight.
Shit. I wanted to tell him to take care of my brother.
“Feeder, follow,” the Bleeder snaps.
I tear my focus away after the Feeders enter the bloodbank, and resume following the Bleeder.
Inside the mess, I’m directed to sit at our usual table, then the Bleeder brings me a tray of food. My mouth waters, thick with saliva at the sight of a carton of milk, a bottle of water, and a juice. At the centre of the tray, there is a plate piled high with scrambled fucking eggs on toast, and a stack of pancakes drenched in a sweet syrup that tickles my nose.
“Why?” I look to the masked Bleeder in disbelief.
“A god has allowed you to live,” says the Bleeder. “As a reward, you will be given a day of tranquillity. May peace be with you today.” I knew Bleeders were fanatics, but hearing how excited this man is over theirgodsis something else. Cult behaviour cranked up to one hundred. They are treating me differently because a nightwalker haschosenme. It’s everything these sycophants dream of.
Or did the second nightwalker say something to them?
And what did they make of the dead body?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
HOLOMETABOLISM
Any nightwalker who has harmed a Feeder will be prohibited from entering the Undercity.
— Serun’s Law
Before everyone arrives,the Bleeder takes the tray away. As he does, the doors swing open, and the rest of the Feeders file in. Jax is at the front of the line, with Cole trying to keep up. A broad grin lights up his face, and when he spots me, he pushes Jax aside to wrap his arms around me.
I wince at the tender ache in my neck but manage to swallow the pained sound that threatens to escape. Instead, I embrace my brother, resting my face on his shoulder and inhaling his lingering rusty copper scent.
After the hug, he leans back, and as my hands slide down his arms, my gaze drops to his elbow. A cotton ball is taped to the crook of his arm. With a proud grin on hisface and excitement lacing his voice, he says, “I bled today!”
A churn of disgust twists my insides as I watch my brother experience a sense of achievement rather than horror at this milestone.
He sits next to me while Jax takes the seat opposite us. Words flow from Jax, low and rapid. He’s eager to know everything. If and where the nightwalker touched me. His onslaught prompts an uneasy squirm, and I clutch my shirt as I recall the nightwalker’s sharp fingernails digging into my skin.
“No,” I say, pushing down the memory of the nightwalker who assaulted me, and the one I kissed when I was drunk on his bite. “No, he didn’t touch me. He only bit me.”
“He…” Blue eyes settle on the side of my neck. “How big is your brand?”
I roll my tongue across the top of my teeth while I get hold of my rising irritation.
Jax knows a hell of a lot more than he lets on, and it is really starting to bother me. He could have told me I’d bebranded. He could havefuckingmentioned to expect a nightwalker’s venom to ink my flesh. He could have shared a lot more to ease my mind—or a lot more in fucking general.
I lick my lips, tasting a distractingly potent salty iron scent in the air, but I shake it off and answer, “It covers my back.”
Jax’s face contorts in revulsion for a moment before his mask slides into place, and he bites into his bread. But I saw it. I saw every muscle that twitched and every line thatformed that facial expression before he concealed it. With it, a hole in my heart expands—calloused and filled with a bleeding rot.
He will look at me that way if I drop my glamour.
“Then it just left?” he asks, taking another bite.
“Yeah…” My nostrils flare, and I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
“Good,” he sighs, a wash of relief flowing from him. “I’m glad.”
