Page 66 of Taste of Fate

But why? I wanted to ask, but was too afraid of what the answer would be.

“Here we are.” Cyan carefully lowered my legs to the ground in front of the cellar doors, but kept his arm wrapped around my upper back to support.

“Robin!” I yelled, pounding on the aged wood. “It’s me, Tavia!”

I glanced around nervously while waiting for a response, but Cyan seemed undisturbed.

“We’ll handle them,” he assured with a squeeze around my waist. “I can hear the others’ bikes now.”

Just as the distant roar of engines became clear to me, the cellar doors cracked open. “Tavia?”

“Robin!”

She pushed one of the doors all the way open to let me through while Cy supported me down the rickety stairs, not letting go until the last possible moment. Robin of course knew him, but I heard a small chorus of gasps from others crowded in the cellar.

Cyan ignored them, his gaze focused on me. “Have them barricade the doors from inside as best you can. Do not open the cellar for any reason until you hear my voice.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Be careful.”

Again, that smirk. “What’s the fun in that?” And then he was closing the doors.

“You heard him,” Robin said to the onlookers. “Pull the chain back through the handles and weigh it down with anything heavy. Go!” To me, she said, “Did you get attacked?” and eyed my sore leg that I was favoring.

“Yeah, but I’m fine. Cyan helped.” I held onto a shelf of canned preserves for support, not wanting to explain the healing properties of vampire saliva right then. “Where’s Amy?”

Robin’s face turned grave. “Come with me.”

She wrapped an arm around my waist and helped me walk to a small alcove toward the back of the cellar. We turned a corner and I saw a pale figure lying on a cot covered with a blanket up to her collarbones. All around the cot were piles of blood-soaked towels and linens.

“Amy!” I forgot all about my leg and it collapsed under me when I let go of Robin and tried to run.

I felt wetness on my skin, probably my wound splitting open and bleeding, but that didn’t matter. I dragged myself to Amy’s side, terrified to touch her face that was entirely too pale.

“Hey Ames, it’s me.” My hand shook as I pet her hair. “It’s okay. I made it. I’m here. I made it.”

Her eyes were closed and her lips were parted. She was just sleeping, she had to be. They had to give her something to knock her out for the pain, right?

“Dr. Barrow didn’t have time to grab anything for a blood transfusion.” Robin’s hand came to rest on my shoulder. “She’s lost a lot of blood, Tavi. And there was…organ damage. I’m so sorry.”

I heard everything she said, but none of it registered. They were just words. Just sounds. Meaningless noise.

“It’s okay,” I repeated. “Cyan can help her. He’s…he’s helped me so much.” I knew I was babbling, the adrenaline wearing off only to be replaced with denial and grief. “Cyan can make you all better, Ames. He closed me up, made me all better. You’ll be okay.”

Keeping it together felt like a Herculean task, but I forced my eyes to stay on her neck and chest. Did she have a pulse? Was she breathing? Why was it so hard to tell?

I pressed two fingers to the side of her neck and my sanity started to crumble when I didn’t feel anything. Then…there it was! Faint and slow, but I felt her pulse.

“That’s my girl,” I whispered. “You don’t let them beat you down, no matter what. You’re so much stronger than you know, Ames.” I forced out a laugh. “Hell, you don’t even need me. Not really.”

She didn’t answer. I didn’t know if she could hear me.

And then her pulse stopped.

Chapter 25

Cyan

Marrowers, despite their fearsome appearance, were known as the gentlest of vampires. They largely kept to themselves, steered clear of clan conflicts, and contented themselves with raising livestock for their diet rich in bone marrow.

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