Vincent
Iexpected your face to be the first one I saw when the bandages were removed, but it was someone else standing over me. A stranger. Or was he?
“Remember me?” the man said with a thick accent.
I blinked and concentrated on his blurry face. Those eyes—glittering green and bladed with fury. He leaned closer and his features came into sharper focus. My breath caught and I could only blink rapidly in a paralyzing terror. What do you say to the person who’d watched you murder people for the past six months?
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Stefan Rotaru,” he said with so much formality that it chilled me to the bone. He pronounced his name with a softshhhsound at the beginning. His emerald eyes studied me, as though determining my capability to defend myself. Not so great at the moment. “And you are?” he purred in a low, dangerous voice.
“Vincent Rodrigues.”
That was all I could manage. Any apology from me was worthless. This man knew my worst sins, knew that I was beyond redemption. That I’d slaughtered innocent, helpless people. Not just killed them butdevouredthem.
He pulled a small glass vial from his pocket. The top of it was an eye dropper. “Lucian said you must have this when you wake. To help with the healing.” He glanced toward a chair at my bedside where I could just make out your hazy form. Your regular, rhythmic breathing told me that you were asleep.
I nodded and waited, still eyeing him with uncertainty, but Stefan didn’t make any move to administer it. And he didn’t offer the bottle to me either.
“Did you do that yourself?” He gestured to his own face with forked fingers.
“Yes.” I waited for him to ask me why.
“Must have hurt.”
I nodded. I’d nearly passed out from the pain, but that wasn’t the worst part. “I had to chew them up and swallow them to make sure the medics couldn’t put them back in.”
“You ate your own eyeballs?” Stefan asked with renewed interest. “What did they taste like?”
Being held as one of Azrael’s captives must have fucked him up too.
“Salty Jello?”
Stefan grinned and I nearly did too, both of us tainted by the madness of that place.
“Not as good as blood, though,” he said. Any hint of humor drained from his face. I could see why Lucian was fascinated by him. He was… alarming.
“No, not nearly,” I said evenly.
Stefan deftly unscrewed the lid and depressed the eye dropper’s rubber nipple. “Open.”
I lifted my chin and opened my eyes wide, trusting Stefan even though I shouldn’t. In those few seconds you’d woken and moved like quicksilver to my bedside.
“Henri,” I cautioned.
“What are you doing?” you growled . Your voice was rough from slumber, and it excited me.
“Medicine,” Stefan said unapologetically. The look in his eyes dared you to stop him.
“Put it in your own eye first,” you said. I was about to argue that it might not be a good idea when Stefan did just that. He blinked and the moisture pooled at the bottom of one eye like an unfallen tear. I had a flashback then to Stefan’s expression as I fed from one of his cellmates, a handsome blond man, right before Stefan was taken away and I ruthlessly finished my feed.
“You want to do it?” Stefan offered you the bottle. You glared at him, not bothering to hide your displeasure, and took the medicine. You weren’t as precise with your execution, and some of it splashed on my cheek.
The drops soothed the burning a little and helped with the blurriness. I turned toward you and finally saw your face. There were lines around your eyes I didn’t remember from before and a sadness to your expression. You looked… haunted. I shouldn’t be so surprised. It hadn’t been all rainbows and sunshine for you either.
“Hey there, handsome.” I reached out to trace your strong jaw. Your stubble was shorter than I was used to seeing. “You look different without your beard.”
You brought my hand to your lips and kissed my knuckles. “I can grow it out.”
My weak heart couldn’t take it—your face, your eyes, your tentative words. There was so much more I wanted to say—I miss you. I love you. I’m sorry for what I’ve become.
