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around my wrists, but it wouldn’t budge. I was stuck, I was starving and I was terrified of what
they would do to Elijah when he showed up.
Tomas was right. The Angel would come. If the roles were switched I would run to
rescue him. All I could do was hope he was smarter than me and would be prepared for it. If he
had the new sword, he might have a chance.
Darkness was closing in on my mind as I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness.
“Someone’s coming,” Gareth hissed.
I heard both of them stand and tried to open my eyes to see where they were going, but
my eyelids were just too heavy. A door slammed somewhere behind me then everything was
silent.
Chapter Fourteen
I wasn’t sure when I’d actually passed out or how long I’d been unconscious, but when I
opened my eyes, I found myself staring at Elijah who was bound to a chair across from me.
“Fuck,” I said dryly. “I was really hoping you’d just kill them, and we could go home.”
“Yeah,” he said with a half smile. “That was sort of my plan A, too.”
“What happened?” I asked. My voice was hoarse with thirst, and I was blinking more
slowly than normal, but other than that, I was actually starting to feel a little better. The poison
seemed to be wearing off.
“Goofus and Galant had the place tripwired. I was trying to sneak in and see what was
going on but got busted.”
“You don’t seem too worried.”
“I’m not,” he said with a shrug.
“You should be,” Gareth said. When he walked into my line of vision, I saw that he was
carrying my sword—the first Sword of Azazel he had stolen out of my office. “Tomas is going to
fuck up your boyfriend, Drake.”
“Where is he?”
“He had to run an errand. He’ll be back. Until then I get to play.” He walked behind me
and cut my hands free. He helped me stand, and when he was sure I wasn’t going to fall, he
walked over to Elijah.
“Drake, I have to admit. He sure is pretty.” He traced the tip of the sword over Elijah’s
jaw. “But he could never give you what I can.”
“How the fuck did you stay with this creep for so long?” Elijah spat, his hatred for the
Nephilim plain in his voice.
Gareth walked back over to me, the sword in one hand and the other outstretched toward
me.
“He needs me,” Gareth said as he ran his hand through my hair. “Don’t you, baby?” He
licked a hot, wet line up my neck, which drew a shudder of revulsion from me.
“I don’t need anything from you!” I screamed as I tried to pull away from his touch.
“Oh no?” There was amusement in Gareth’s tone. “So you don’t need this then?”
The smell of his blood hit my nostrils before I saw his arm dripping in front of my face.
He’d cut a large gash in his forearm and let the crimson liquid spill to the floor.
My knees buckled at the sight of it, the aroma of it. Only Gareth’s other arm, wrapped
firmly around my waist, kept me on my feet. I wanted to fall to the floor with the blood, to suck
it from the concrete.
“Drake, don’t!” Elijah yelled. “Please, don’t give in to him.”
“Shut up,” Gareth sneered at the Angel.
“I am going to drain you dry,” I growled up at the Nephilim.
“Well, go ahead then.” He waved his arm in front of my mouth again. “You know you
want it. Look at it, all fresh and burning hot, straight from my skin.”
It was another trap. It had to be. No way would Gareth give me a free pass to feed on
him. Tomas wanted me weak, and Gareth wasn’t going to go against his boss’ wishes now.
“Just drink it,” Gareth whispered into my ear. “Drink from me, and we can be together
forever.”
“Drake, please,” Elijah pleaded.
The smell of Gareth’s blood was intoxicating. My mind was swimming in thoughts of
bathing in the warm, sticky liquid. Memories flashed through my mind like pages of a photo
album. Gareth and I huddled together in bed, my mouth suckling at his throat as a thunderstorm
raged outside. That had been my thirtieth birthday, I mused, as another picture of us together
filled my mind. This time Gareth was forcing me to drink from him, his arm cut then as it was
now, pressing it against my mouth to make me taste it. We’d been broken up for three months
when that had happened. I hadn’t drunk his blood since two days before he’d left and he’d come
to check on me. When he’d found me half alive on the apartment floor, he’d saved my life. I’d
forgotten about that. I’d always remember my mother fading away but had not recalled doing it
to myself. That had been the very first time we’d split. He’d never left me without blood again.
He wasn’t always an asshole. And deep down, I believed he really did care about me.
This was all Tomas. It had to be. Gareth wouldn’t do this to me on his own. What a horrible
person I am, I thought. Here he is, trying to save me again, and I’m pushing him away.
“Drake no!” Elijah screamed.
The sound brought me back to myself. As the fog lifted, I realized I knelt on the floor,
holding Gareth’s bloody wound an inch from my mouth. I had been poised to drink from him.
Gareth screamed in frustration. He walked over to Elijah and punched him hard enough
to rock his head backward. The crunch was so loud it echoed through the nearly empty room,
and I winced from the sound of it.
I heard a “tsk, tsk” behind me and turned to see Tomas walking back toward us.
“I almost had him,” huffed Gareth. “That one,” he jerked his head toward Elijah, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]