Page 141 of Blood Lovers

I turn my head so I can look at him. Grandma was right. So tender. So considerate. So evil. “How?”

His grin is immediate. “I’ll open the skin for you. I won’t make you chew through me.” And that’s what he does. Like I have already made my decision. And I have, I guess. Because I watch—both fascinated and filled with cravings—as he bites his wrist and the blood trickles down his forearm.

I don’t even have time to think about changing my mind, either. Because he thrusts his wrist up to my mouth and the moment my lips press against his skin there is bliss.

Oh, the bliss…

Immediately, my world turns purple. A deep, dark, royal purple that should indicate that I’m in the past, or the future, or some other realm, but I’m not. I’m standing in the room watching myself feed on the vampire Paul.

Then I see something strange. A pool of liquid. It takes me a moment to realize it’s blood because it’s so red, it’s nearly black. It is a pool about the diameter of a dinner plate and there is a stream—a trail—that my eyes follow. Tracking along to the floor to a body.

Lucia’s body. Lucia’s headless body.

I turn, and find the missing piece. Her green eyes wide, but cloudy now. Her mouth open in a scream. Blood pooling beneath the jagged flesh of her neck.

I gag, lean over, and throw up blood.

“Yes.” It’s Lucia’s voice. And when I straighten up and look to my right, she’s standing next to me wearing a lavender mist like a robe. “It’s gross.” She’s staring at her own dismembered body on the floor, but then she looks at me. “Why is he so fascinated with taking off heads?”

I scowl, then manage a shrug.

“Oh, well. I knew it was coming. Obviously.” She smiles at me. “And now it is done and I can stop thinking about it.”

Finally, I find my voice. And my panic. “What the fuck is happening!”

“Well. You are feeding Ryet, Paul is feeding you, and I’m dead.”

“I thought you had a fucking plan, Lucia!”

“Darling.” She brings her hand up to my cheek, pressing it lightly as she smiles. “This is the plan.”

“What plan? I’m feeding my boyfriend my blood and his… his… his blood lover is feeding me his! Your head is over there, Lucia! This is not a plan!”

“Calm down! We don’t have much time. You will start feeling the true effect of his blood any minute now. You can’t take much the first time. You think you can.” Her face morphs into a distant expression, like maybe she’s thinking about the first time she fed. “But you can’t. It will take years for your body to adapt. The initial bliss you feel is just a chemical reaction. Oxytocin, if I remember correctly. It’s to get you past the revulsion of blood in your stomach.”

The other me, the one on the bed, gags and spits out some blood. Paul is petting her like a dog and whispering into her ear.

“What is he saying?”

“Lies, Syrsee. He is nothing but lies. He doesn’t love Ryet and he certainly doesn’t love you. He’s trying to find the Darkness again. To get his power back. That’s all he cares about. And Ryet is his path to that power and you are his path to Ryet. Do you see?”

“He’s just using us.”

“That’s right. That’s all Paul ever does. He takes, Syrsee. And he’s evil. Far, far more evil than you can ever imagine. And that is why we’re going to lock him up, remember?” She smooths a piece of hair away from my face and I realize this is something they both do when they’re feigning concern. “Hmm? Remember? We do have a plan, Syrsee. And we are right on track.”

She steps away from me then, walks a few paces and picks something up near the curved wall. She holds it up, showing me the syringe. “This was a decoy. I needed him to kill me in order to get my second-level powers.”

“Second… what?”

Lucia smiles. Her green eyes twinkle. “Your grandma isn’t dead, you know. None of them are, Syrsee. Black witches—even lowly, halfbreed ones like me—all come into a second life once we leave the human realm. It’s in the purple, darling. We come from the purple and to there we shall return.”

“Why am I always the last to know this shit?”

“Because of him, Syrsee.” She points to Paul. “And him.” She points to Ryet. “And the Guild, of course.”

A stab of pain runs through my heart when she says that word. Zusi. It was all a lie.

“Now.” Lucia pretends to straighten her misty lavender dress. Her image shimmers a little when she walks over to the armoire, but then solidifies again. As much as she can, since she’s literally made of mist. She picks up another syringe, holding it up so I can focus on it. “This is the one we need.”