Thirst (Ava Delaney #1)

by Claire Farrell

  ***

  I awoke to something ice cold dripping onto my forehead. I was completely alone in pitch blackness, but I could sense it was daylight. The irritating drip persisted. I struggled to move my head away, but I was pinned down by something heavy. My arms were tied above my head, and it was cold in the room.

  After a couple of minutes of futile struggling, I prayed for the intense pain of the night before so unconsciousness would claim me again. My arms ached, and the rope was so tight that my wrists burned with pain. The dripping was the worst; my head ached from it, but I couldn't even move a centimetre to ease the relentless pain.

  After an hour, I was sobbing, and by the time a couple more hours had gone by, I felt like I was going insane. I couldn't relax for a second, unsure when the vampires or their human servants would come back-if they ever did. I shivered with a chill, and each movement felt like another kick in the stomach.

  My arms had gone thankfully numb, but I had a persistent fear they weren't there at all. My head pounded until I wanted to scream, but my throat was so dry, nothing more than a croak came out of my mouth.

  I was exhausted, mentally and physically, but the waiting was the worst. It was so dark, I was so alone, and I couldn't sense a thing. I wept for what seemed like hours. Each minute was both hopeful and devastatingly anti-climatic as I waited for something to happen, someone to come, somehow for it all to end. I couldn't see a way out.

  Night came at last. I sensed the vampires awakening. The doors of the room opened, flooding the place with light that burned my eyes. A figure approached me. My eyes were too screwed up from the light to see who it was, but I recognised the voice.

  "How lovely to see you, my dear," Maximus said. "Did you have a nice rest?"

  I kept my eyes closed. I couldn't manage speaking.

  "Get her out of here, take her into the main room, and quench her thirst."

  I wasn't thirsty. I wasn't anything anymore. I wasn't sure if I was alive. Hands grabbed at me roughly, setting me free and carrying me off. The light was too much for me to bear. My arms still existed. I could tell by the sudden burning pain as blood rushed to my fingertips.

  I was barely conscious by the time they lay me down on a flat surface. My breathing sounded funny, harsh and jerky. I remembered my nose had been broken, but the thought drifted idly around in my head.

  "Are you ready to talk to me now?" Maximus said, pacing up and down. "Your grandmother didn't call, I'm afraid. Perhaps she had a heart attack on the way."

  I heard his words, but they flitted about my brain, never quite holding down in the one spot. They sounded slow, like they moved up and down a spectrum of sound, each one echoing until all of the words had been heard. His voice bounced around my brain until, finally, I understood.

  "Get her a drink, I said!" Maximus shouted, sounding furious. I drifted off only to be woken by a warm splattering of liquid on my parched lips. I licked then opened my mouth willingly, letting a stream of blood fall down my throat until I choked on it. The flow stopped, and I coughed for a minute then licked at my lips steadily. Eventually, I even managed to open my eyes, feeling less broken than before.

  "There she is," Maximus said, standing by my shoulder, rubbing his hands together in delight. "Nice to see you back with us, my dear. Now, can you talk?"

  At first only a dry, dusty sound came from my throat. Finally, I managed one word as Maximus eagerly leaned over me to hear.

  "Granny."

  He tutted. "I told you, she's gone. Now, tell me about your creator. Do you know his name? Do you remember what happened?"

  I nodded slowly, feeling like every cell in my body was aching.

  "Tell me!"

  "Fuck... you." I could barely hear myself, but apparently Maximus got the message loud and clear. He thumped hard on my stomach. My body jerked of its own accord as blood gurgled up into my mouth. I leaned my face to one side and let the blood flow out of my mouth and down my cheek. I was going to die.

  Maximus picked up a scalpel, but I didn't have the energy to panic.

  "Don't you think she's had enough?" the blond vampire said. "We need her alive, remember?"

  Maximus squared up to him, his nostrils flaring. The blond didn't back off, but he stayed silent as Maximus shouted in his face. "I decide when she's had enough!"

  He returned to the table, smiling brightly, and carefully drew the blade along my stomach, cutting away my clothes, a little piece at a time. He sliced my skin, lightly at first, then piercing jabs that jolted my whole body. I closed my eyes, ignoring the pain. I heard Maximus scream with fury, but I felt a cool breeze against my cheek and retreated into myself.

  His voice grew distant as I concentrated on good things. Crushing on Peter, Carl volunteering to stick around and help me, the sun on my skin, chocolate, and the colour of daffodils in spring. I smiled and sensed Maximus going into a rage. He could hurt my body all he liked, but my mind was safe, locked up in my own world. I drifted away again, and this time I didn't expect to wake back up.