“Yeah,” I said. “Probably not.”
He nodded. “Gotcha.”
We finished the rest of our meal without saying much. I tossed our trays in the trash can, and we went back over to the coffee table. Jude sat down next to me, and I surveyed the way his muscles moved under his shirt. He was actually an attractive guy.
What? Why was I thinking that? I never found Jude attractive.
I seized a bullet and began to disassemble it so that I could put the leaves inside.
Jude spoke up, and his voice was low and a little husky. “Maybe I do want to know.”
I yanked the bullet open. “He was, um, strangling me. You know, because the lack of oxygen makes it feel more intense?”
“Does that actually work?”
“Uh... well, I don’t know,” I said. “Because he sort of, um, killed me. I mean, I’m not dead, but, you know, if I didn’t have his blood I would have been.”
Jude gave me a horrified look. “That’s awful. You must be terrified of him now.”
“No,” I said. “That’s the thing.” I picked up one of the leaves. “It sort of, um, it turned me on.”
“Seriously?”
I nodded. “That makes me really fucked up, doesn’t it?”
“Honestly?” he said. “Kind of.”
I laughed. “Shit, I can’t believe I just told you that.”
He shook his head. “Man, if that’s the kind of thing you like... Tell my brother that he has no reason to be jealous of me. I have no desire to go there.”
I shoved him, still laughing. “Shut up. Don’t be a dick. I told you that in confidence.”
He backed away, palms up. “Trust me, I’m not going to tell anyone. I wish I didn’t know.”
“Good,” I said. My hand was still on his arm. Instead of pulling it away, though, I found myself caressing him through the sleeve of his shirt.
Jude closed his eyes. His voice dropped. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s just suddenly, I feel...”
Jude jumped to his feet, knocking over the coffee table, sending the bullets flying. “Fuck!”
“Why’d you do that?” I said. He’d made a mess of everything.
“I remember this feeling,” he said.
“You do?”
“The food, Zaza,” he said. “We just dosed ourselves with the aphrodisiac.”
My mouth opened, and my hand went up to cover it. Fuck.
* * *
~jason~
“Stop, please, stop,” said Patience. She was bleeding. Not a lot. Not yet. Just a little bit.
She’d screamed when I’d cut her. I didn’t mind.
Her blood was clinging to the blade of the knife. I gazed at it. It was so red, so bright, so real.
I took a deep breath. I straightened up, surveying her. The places where I’d cut her. The places where I hadn’t.
Patience’s eyes were big and green. She had freckles on her nose. I hadn’t been able to see them before, when she’d been covered in makeup. But now I could. She didn’t look like a worldly escort anymore. Instead, she looked like a little girl.
I knelt down next to her. “You don’t want me to cut you anymore, do you?”
She shook her head fiercely.
I caressed her cheek. “Say please.”
I did like it when they begged.
* * *
~azazel~
Jude had made me lock him out of my apartment about a half hour ago. Somehow, like idiots, we’d managed to eat food that already been dosed with the aphrodisiac that the vampires used when they wanted to try to breed us. The aphrodisiac was powerful. I remembered how difficult it had been to resist it before.
And now, it was pumping through me at full strength. I’d tried taking a cold shower, but it had been a bad idea to be naked. It made me think too much about how much I really wanted to have sex.
My whole body was on fire.
I couldn’t sit still.
I paced through the apartment, unable to calm down.
There was throbbing between my legs. It was sweet agony.
I couldn’t handle this anymore.
I went to the door of my apartment and threw it open.
Jude was standing there.
“Hi,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
He was struggling to breathe. “Why did you open the door?”
“Why are you standing out here? Didn’t you say you were going to lock yourself in your apartment?”
“I...” Jude lurched at me. “I tried.”
“Fuck.” I tried to back away from him.
But now he was coming for me, coming through the doorway, and as hard as I tried to will my body away from his, it wasn’t cooperating.
I found myself reaching for him, my fingers skimming over his chest, settling on his belt. “Jude, we can’t do this.”
He snatched my hand away.
Oh good. He was going to stop it. I closed my eyes in relief.
But instead he grasped my other wrist as well and propelled me backwards.
He slammed me into the wall, and pushed both of my imprisoned hands above my head.
My eyes snapped open, and I moistened my lips, gasping.
“Azazel.” His voice was gravelly and tattered. “Stop me.”
“Stop,” I said. But my lips were seeking his.
And his face was coming for mine, and his hips were grinding into my body, and I was writhing against him, and it all felt so, so good, like it would quench the fire that was burning just beneath my skin, and, even though I knew this was the last thing on earth I wanted, I wasn’t stopping it. I was surrendering to it.
To Jude.
Our lips met, and he freed my hands.
We tore at each other’s clothes.
CHAPTER SEVEN
~jason~
I had my own bloody wrist at her lips, but she wasn’t drinking my blood.
She wasn’t moving at all.
I nudged her. “Patience, you have to drink this.”
She didn’t respond. Her flesh was inert, quiet, stiff.
I kicked her. “Patience, wake the fuck up.”
Nothing.
I moved away from her. Fuck.
I’d waited too long. I thought I could give her the blood, and it would heal everything, and that I could convince her the whole thing had been a very bad dream. She’d have no evidence. She’d be fine.
But I’d waited too long.
I shoved my hands in my hair, smearing blood over my skin. My blood. Her blood.
Fuck.
I looked down at her body.
She was mangled. I could see it now. Before, when I’d been in the thick of it, passion driving my hands, she’d looked beautiful, like a work of art. Every stroke of my knife had seemed inspired, like I was Leonardo fucking da Vinci or something.
But now, now...
I hadn’t done much to her face. I liked the way she looked, and I didn’t want it to hurt for her to talk. I liked hearing her beg. I liked knowing that I had absolute power over her, and I liked it when she confirmed that. That was the best part of the whole thing.
But I’d cut her other places. Most of the cuts on her arms and shoulders were shallow, just tiny little slashes. Her legs too. That stuff was all superficial.
But I guessed I’d gotten too deep when I got closer to her internal organs.
Or maybe she’d bled to death.
Fuck.
I just killed her.
I dragged bloody hands over my face. Killed her. Dead. I killed her.
I sank down onto the basement floor. What had possessed me?
I hadn’t done anything like this in...
Well, taking an innocent girl and mutilating her? For fun? With no excuses at all? No Sons to order me to get it done? No imagined fault she’d committed in my cult? No gun in her hand so that I could argue it was self-defense? No threat to any of the people I loved?
I’d never done any
thing like this before.
But I had to admit, it was what I’d wanted to do for a very, very long time.
And dear god, it was so, so sweet.
I folded my arms over my head and began to sob.
* * *
~azazel~
I tugged my shirt over my head. I wasn’t looking at Jude. “I think the aphrodisiac’s mostly out of our systems now.”
“Yeah.” I heard his footsteps. He was walking across the apartment, towards the door. “I’ll go.”
That was probably a good idea. I didn’t want to see him anymore. I’d seen enough of him. I’d touched enough of him. Licked—
Yeah, okay, I didn’t want to remember anything we’d just done.
Or all of the times we’d done it.
It was the aphrodisiac, that was all. I hadn’t wanted him. Under normal circumstances, I’d never have touched Jude. I’d never even found him attractive.
Well, okay, maybe a little bit, but only because he looked like Jason.
Jason.
Oh my god. Would he be able to understand this?
“Wait,” I said. I looked up.
Jude was at the door. He turned to face me. “Yeah?”
“Maybe it would be better if we didn’t tell anyone that—”
“Are you kidding?” he said. “As far as I’m concerned, this never happened.”
I nodded. “Good.”
“Good,” he said. He turned to go, and then stopped. “Azazel, how fast are you healing these days?”
“Why?” I said, looking down at myself. Almost immediately, I spotted a few bruises and scratches. That had probably happened when Jude shoved me up against the wall. Or maybe when he’d taken me from behind over the back of the couch. I cringed, wishing I could rid myself of the memories, the images, the sensations. “Well, I haven’t been drinking Jason’s blood, because I’m trying to age back to my normal, you know, age.” And because we usually shared blood while we were having sex, and we hadn’t done that recently. But I didn’t say that out loud. It seemed to make this even worse.
“So, maybe not so fast?” He strode into the kitchen, dug through one of the drawers, got a knife, and cut open his wrist.
I shook my head. “Oh... no, Jude, I don’t—”
“How are you going to explain the bruises?” he said, coming for me, wrist dripping. “Mine are already healed.”
I’d bruised him? Huh. I guessed I’d been digging my fingers into him pretty hard.
My throat was sore too. I’d made a lot of noise.
Jude’s blood would fix all of that.
And now I could smell it.
I leaped at him. Nephilim blood made me an animal.
He caught me, and we sank down on the couch together.
My lips attached themselves to his wrist. I sucked.
It was bliss. It tasted like heaven.
He stroked the back of my head while I drank.
He let me have a lot.
But finally, he pushed me away.
It took all my strength not to jump on him again. I really, really liked the blood.
He went over to the sink and washed off his wrist. By the time he got back, he was already healed up.
I hugged my knees to my chest on the couch. Drinking his blood seemed even more intimate than sex, suddenly. This was bad. This was all fucked up and horrible, and I didn’t know what to do.
“I’ve given you my blood before,” he said, standing over me.
“I know,” I said in a small voice. But it was different this time, and we both knew it.
He looked at the door. “I’m going to go.”
“Okay,” I said. I felt sick to my stomach.
“You can’t tell him,” he said.
“Tell him?”
“Jason. I see all that guilt in your eyes, Zaza. You’re thinking about how much better you’d feel if he would forgive you. And he might. He might forgive you. But he would kill me. You know he would.”
“I’m not going to tell him,” I said. “He would be so...” Suddenly, I was choked with tears, thinking about how hurt Jason would be. How absolutely destroyed. “This wasn’t our fault, Jude. We didn’t mean to do this.”
“But it happened.” His voice broke. “And we can’t undo it.” He looked down at his body. “I need to take a shower.” He turned away from me.
I tucked my chin into my knees. My body started to shake.
I didn’t want to look at him. I kept thinking about the way it had felt when he was inside me, and—even though it had felt good at the time—now I felt dirty and used and violated. I started to cry.
“Azazel, I’m sorry.” He was at the door. He sounded like he might cry too.
“Go away,” I said.
He slammed the door after himself.
I went into the bathroom. I turned on the water in the shower, making it as hot as I could stand. I tore off my clothes, and I got under the scalding stream.
I was still crying. I sobbed, gripping the sleek walls for support.
The water wasn’t hot enough.
I turned the knobs, adjusting it, making it hotter.
My legs buckled underneath me. I sat down on the porcelain, huddled in the corner of the shower, letting the water rush over me, wishing it could be hot enough to burn it all away.
* * *
~jason~
The elevator stopped and the doors opened. I was between floors in headquarters. I’d come here to take a shower after getting rid of Patience’s body. I couldn’t go back home to get cleaned up. I didn’t want anyone to see me.
It was less likely that anyone would notice me if I went to headquarters, so that was where I had gone. And it had worked fine. I’d gone down to one of the apartments and used the shower there. Now, I was heading back home, trying to pretend like none of it had ever happened.
The elevator doors opened. “Jason?”
It was Azazel. Her hair was wet. But so was mine.
“Hey,” I said.
“Why is your hair wet?” she said.
“I, uh, took a shower here,” I said. “There’s a serious lack of hot water in the mansion if everyone decides they want to shower at once. Why’s your hair wet?”
“I took a shower too.” She stepped into the elevator. “Sometimes I take showers here.”
I nodded. I scooted over so that there was room for her in the elevator. I made sure we didn’t touch. I didn’t think I could handle touching her right now.
She hugged herself.
The elevator doors closed. “You going to the top floor?” I asked.
“Uh huh,” she said. “I’m going to see Boone. He’s probably up there working on figuring out the identity of this blood dealer we saw. And that’s why I’m here. To hunt vampires. That’s what I’ve been doing all night. Well, earlier, I was stuffing bullets with herbs, but I’m not doing that anymore.”
“Okay,” I said. She sounded nervous. Under normal circumstances, I might have asked her what was wrong, and if she was okay. But I didn’t, because if she wasn’t okay, then I couldn’t handle that right now. I was too screwed up to comfort her.
She gazed down at her toes.
The elevator lurched to life. It began to pull us upwards.
“I, um, don’t know if I’ll come home tonight,” she said.
“I know,” I said. “You said you’d be staying here.”
“Do you want me to come home?” she said. “You said you needed to talk to me.”
I did? Oh, right. I wanted her to talk me down from carving up call girls. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Don’t say that,” she said. “I know I’ve been... distant lately. And I shouldn’t have done that. I should be there with you. I should never have been away from you. If I had been with you tonight, then...”
Oh, she’d completely misunderstood me. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. You take care of what you need to take care of.” I wanted to be alone tonight. I didn’t want to play games
with her.
Because I wasn’t going to tell her what I’d done. I wasn’t going to tell anyone. I’d thought about it, back when I was crying in that basement, Patience’s body growing cold right next to me. I’d thought about going to Azazel, asking her to forgive my transgressions, and laying it all in her lap. See if she’d still want me after I’d done something this horrible.
But I was afraid that she wouldn’t want me. And I couldn’t take the chance. I needed her.
Right now, it would be too hard to lie to her. The death was too fresh. I could still see Patience’s sliced flesh. I could still picture the way she’d looked in that shallow grave as I’d tossed dirt over her head. No. If I was alone with Azazel, the whole thing would come tumbling out.
And I didn’t want her to know.
“Are you sure?” she said.
“Completely,” I said.
She smiled at me.
I smiled back.
Maybe it was me, but both of our smiles seemed a little strained.
She turned away first, looked down to study the floor.
The elevator door opened.
I let her walk out first.
“Hey,” I said, as I followed her out. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. I think it might be a good idea if I helped you guys with killing vampires.”
She turned to me, surprised. “Really?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I think, you know, maybe you’re right about me needing to let off a little bit of steam.”
“Good,” she said. “I think that’s really good. Maybe it’ll the stop the... things you’re thinking.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe.”
Then we stood there awkwardly for a few seconds.
“Well,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”
“Do you want to stay and help tonight?”
I shook my head. “No, I think I’d rather go home and go to bed.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
We both bobbed our heads.
“Um,” I said. “Bye.” Usually, when we said goodbye, we gave each other a hug or a quick kiss. I tried to force myself forward to do it. She’d notice if I was acting too weird. Of course, we hadn’t been touching much lately, so maybe it didn’t matter.
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