“Gareth,” Raquel screamed.
Blood poured from a wound above his eyebrow and he quickly put up a hand to halt any idea she had of trying to approach him.
“Stay,” he commanded. “Don’t come near me.”
“You’re dying,” she whispered brokenly. “You’re aging and dying.”
“Yes, well that sucks for me, doesn’t it?” he replied wearily. “I am happy for you, beloved sister of mine—and for you, Heathcliff. I am forever in your debt for saving her and loving her.”
“I’ve always loved her,” I told the man whose intentions I’d misunderstood.
“Yes, well, you didn’t give up. You broke the curse. My sister is something of a conundrum with a conscience. Quite frustrating if you ask me.”
“No one asked you,” she snapped.
“Touché,” he shot back with a smile.
“I didn’t kill him,” she told her brother. “And he didn’t care if I did. He loves me.”
“Then he’s just as crazy as you are little sister. You two should be very happy together,” Gareth said as he mopped at the blood pouring down his face.
“How long have you been down here?” I asked as I assessed the area for cameras or any other recording equipment. It was clean.
“A month—a day. I don’t know. Somehow I lost track of time. My brain is muddled,” he said and then shook his head in confusion.
A Vampyre of his age could go a long time without drinking blood, but in his compromised state this was clearly not the case—even a day was too long in his condition. The silver chains alone had stolen much of his power and strength.
Gareth needed to feed, but getting it to him was an issue.
“You need blood,” I said tersely.
“And a hooker if you happen to have one of those in your pocket,” he added.
“The manwhore game is unattractive and beneath you,” Raquel informed him angrily. “You’re dying and aging. Someone did this to you and I highly doubt it was a flighty paramour.”
“You are both correct on all of your observations,” he said staring off into space. “I’ve tried to put the puzzle of my latest predicament together yet I’ve come up empty.”
“Enemies?” I scanned the cage for any weakness and found none.
“Too many to count,” he replied with a hollow laugh.
“Where were you right before this happened?” I asked as I rolled up my sleeve and searched for the largest artery in my wrist.
“I was at a gathering with an excessively large amount of pompous undead assholes—I’m almost sure it was yesterday. Maybe I was at the Summit.”
He frowned as he observed me and pulled himself to a sitting position.
“Pot, kettle, black on the asshole part,” Raquel muttered as she watched my actions with curiosity. “What are you doing?”
“He needs blood and I’m going to feed him,” I explained as my fangs dropped and I bit into my wrist.
“You can’t go near him,” she said frantically.
Her concern for my wellbeing moved me. I turned and winked at the woman who had invaded my every thought for centuries. “That is astute, my love. However, let’s see if a stream of my blood can make it past the wards.”
“You’re hot and brilliant.” She quickly hugged me and promptly rolled up her own sleeve.
“Certifiable is more like it,” Gareth mumbled as he crawled as close as he dared to the edge of the cage.
“Been called worse, motherfucker,” I replied with a grin. “Open up.”
Gareth opened his chapped and torn mouth and waited. I aimed and fired. I had to work quickly. I healed as quickly as I could open my vein.
The blood made it past the enchantment but fell short of passing through the bars. Gareth stared numbly at the pool of blood just beyond his reach.
“Damn it,” I hissed. “I need a better artery.”
“Your neck,” Raquel insisted urgently. “If I nick it instead of piercing it, it will spray longer and farther.”
“And you know this, how?” I asked amused by the gory knowledge my mate possessed.
“For a while I fancied being a doctor—even went to medical school. The non-aging thing became a problem, so now I just stick to reading medical journals for fun,” she explained.
“Smart and sexy. Damn, but I lucked out,” I stated proudly.
“Dying over here,” Gareth reminded us in a tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Right. I can’t really see to aim well if we use my neck. How much strength do you have to move?” I asked as I hoisted Raquel up to bite me.
“Enough,” he said flatly.
“I can help with the aim,” Raquel said. “Get on your knees, Heathcliff. It’s closer to Gareth’s mouth. If I knick your artery correctly the blood should spurt about eighteen inches. On a human it would only last about thirty seconds, but we’re not even remotely human.”
“Medical journals?” I asked her with raised brows.
“Medical journals,” she confirmed with a giggle.
“Isn’t it amazing we bleed yet have no heart?” Gareth said absently as he forced himself to his knees.
“We have hearts. They just don’t beat,” Raquel corrected him.
“Speak for yourself,” he mumbled.
“So cynical,” she snapped as she let her fangs drop and prepared to bite me.