The terrified vampire had nothing more to tell them. Chloe drew her leg back and tilted her head.
“On your way, then.”
The curly-haired blond vampire was confused. He no doubt expected to end up like the various pieces of bodies littering the ground. And that would have been his fate had he not talked.
“If we kill everyone, who will be left to tell that queen of yours that we are not to be trifled with?”
Levi didn’t contradict her.
The vampire started to walk away, glancing back as if to ensure they weren’t changing their minds and preparing to attack from behind. Once he’d put a fair distance between them, he started to run.
Levi was looking at her strangely, half-careful, half-admiring. Chloe decided she liked it.
“I heard someone was wounded. Bitten,” she corrected.
He nodded. “Bash. How…”
How had she heard, how was she alive and healed—whatever his question, there was one answer.
“Eirikr.”
She was almost amused by his puzzlement, but there were more important matters. “Where’s Bash?”
“My place. Chloe, there’s…”
Without waiting to hear any more, she began running downhill as fast as she could.
Turned out, that was a lot faster than she would have imagined. She retreated the way she’d come, through the muddy ravine, avoiding all threats in her haste. Eirikr had told her she could save Bash, and she believed him, but if he attacked one of the others and they had to destroy him before she got there, it would be too late.
She was in front of the ridiculously large mansion in seconds, having crossed four miles down and then uphill again in under a minute.
This vampire thing was turning out to be more fun than she thought. Bonus, she’d yet to feel like skinning anyone alive.
She’d only just crossed the door when three huntsmen rushed out, weapons at hand.
They stilled before her.
“Jesus H. Christ, Cheetah.”
Yeah, they had questions. So did she.
All of them could wait.
“Where’s Bash?”
Tris gestured to the door on the right.
“It’s best if you keep your distance. Blair and Gwen are trying to slow down the change. He’s fighting them, although he’s just taken a sleeping draught that should have knocked him out. He’s restrained, but…”
She was already at the door.
Bash was lying on a ruby-red velvet sofa, his arms crossed on his chest, his upper body in chains. His eyes were shut, yet he writhed and groaned, his teeth biting the air.
Blair was holding on to his forehead, chanting. Her kindness had overwritten her caution. Gwen was no better, holding his torso so he couldn’t move too much.
“Chloe! Stay away, he’s extremely dangerous.”
Her change had been obvious to Levi and the huntsmen, but the witches didn’t seem to have caught on yet. Probably because their attention was focused on Bash.
“It’s fine. I have a cure.”
She could feel everyone freeze as she held out her wrist.
Mid-move, she realized that baring her teeth right now wasn’t the smartest move.
“Anyone have a knife?”
When Tris was in the room, the answer to that question was always yes. She threw one of her knives and Chloe caught it with no effort. She sliced her wrist, wincing at the sharp pain, and held it up right in front of Bash’s open mouth.
She had to admit, she gasped along with everyone else.
She hadn’t expected this.
Earlier today, her blood had been just as red as the sofa. She’d never thought that part of her had changed, but if it had, she expected it to become black like Eirikr’s. To her relief, it wasn’t.
The blood was amethyst. A bright shade of darker purple, as unnatural as it was fascinating. Her scattered brain couldn’t help admiring it. Then, under her arm, Bash sighed deeply and settled on the sofa. Smiling, she pulled her hand back and concentrated on her friend. His chest was rising and falling. He’d be fine.
Right?
But deep down, she knew he wouldn’t be. Not truly. She’d cured him from the feral bite, yes, but Bash had been killed and, while he lingered in darkness, given vampire blood.
When he woke, he wouldn’t be the same.
This was better than the alternative, though.
She got up and turned to the silent room.
“All right, so this calls for hot chocolate. Where’s the kitchen?”
They didn’t find the kitchen, although they stumbled upon various fascinating rooms—two torture chambers, a lab Frankenstein would have been proud of, and a hall full of weapons that Bat whistled upon seeing.
‘Dude, Tris will flip her shit. Is that Damascus steel?’
Chloe, who had no clue what Damascus steel was, pouted because it definitely wasn’t hot chocolate.
She had to admit, she was reassured. Comforted in the knowledge that she could still desire some fluffy cocoa with rum rather than just blood, and blood, and more blood, as she’d feared.
She had to ask Levi how the whole drinking blood thing was supposed to work.
She had to ask Levi so many questions. After she was done yelling at him for hiding all this. And snapping her neck. And everything.
‘Wootz steel, actually. Faint distinction in the pattern—it’s hard to tell at first glance.’
Chloe turned on her heel, and there he was. Blood up to his elbow, his suit torn, but he looked so very calm one would have thought he’d just come out of a long, relaxing bath.
‘I keep the interesting artifacts under key, though, if you’re curious.’
Bat scratched his head. ‘Sorry, mate. We weren’t snooping, we were looking for the kitchen.’
‘Ah, yes. This way.’
Chloe remained in the armory, forcing herself to stay put.
Her desire for hot chocolate was long gone. Right now, she didn’t need to ask any questions about bloodlust. She needed to bring her teeth to his vein and plunge them in deep.
He smelled of sweat and blood. She’d never encountered such a delicious combination. And the fact that it was delicious was screwing with her head.
She saw him glance at her before exiting the armory with Bat, Gwen, and Blair. And the asshole smiled, as if he knew just what she was going through.
He probably did.
Damn him.
Chloe’s mind was easier to distract now than before her change. She looked at the weapons. Every now and then, she’d take one and twirl it around. She had no clue how to use them.
Muscle memory will help. More than you know. It’s a wondrous thing. One day, you’ll wake up and know all these moves. You’ll know how to block, fight, lunge faster. You’ll be able to anticipate your adversary’s next move with just one hint.
Had he told her that just a week ago? Levi knew exactly what he was doing. The moves she’d learned over the last week had come to her naturally after her change. They were second nature, as if she’d practiced them all her life. But she’d never learned anything about weapons, so she’d have to do that from scratch.
Part of her wished she’d taken up fighting when she’d first arrived at the Institute.
‘No hot chocolate for you, then?’
He was back.
