Page 5 of Blood Bond

The red mist engulfs the thirsty, shrouding their senses in a bloodthirsty frenzy, deluding them into thinking they're feeding. It propels them into a frenetic dance, back and forth, luring them further into the unforgiving sunlight. For a moment, I watch them burn, one by one, and then it hits me. These are people—were people. Like the nurse, like the man. They had had lives and families.

Sometimes, dead is better.

I sink quickly into a nearby seat, averting my gaze from the windows. I can’t bear to helplessly witness the thirsty’s frenzied agony any longer—their faces contorted in silent screams, their lifeless eyes wide with horror. I’ve seen too much.

Turning away doesn’t stop me feeling them, though. It tugs inside me like a hook, ripping at my insides with sharp claws. Their anguish is palpable, throbbing against my skin like a festering wound.

They want her.

Seth’s words hang heavily in the air. I struggle to find a response for what he said amidst the chaos that surrounds us. Everything unfolds in a whirlwind of speed and sluggish similarity.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I try to contain the jumbled mess inside my head. My thoughts are a chaotic storm.

Nico, the thirsty, the entire situation—it’s all too overwhelming.

I never thought I’d be glad of the silence Crevan’s place had offered me. At least there, I had had some semblance of order to my life, and some control. Everything was easier when I was told how to do it … when to do it. But this …

This is the price of freedom.

But then, am I really free? Are any of us?

The absence of structure leaves my mind spinning. I bow my head, allowing the turmoil to settle within me. In this moment, I feel utterly lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts, threatening to consume me entirely.

Seth, Naneve, and Killian talk as if I'm not present, and I seize the fleeting moment of invisibility to simply observe and quiet my restless mind.

The bunker, intended as a sanctuary, exudes opulence. It's a place constructed by someone with no concern for financial constraints, but a deep yearning for comfort. Even the part we currently occupy is spacious, its high ceilings creating an illusion of grandeur. The walls are adorned with polished marble surfaces, adding to the room's lavishness. Soft, ambient lighting bathes the space in a warm, welcoming glow, a stark contrast to the harsh world beyond.

Two separate rooms stand off to the side, offering both privacy and functionality. These rooms are furnished with equal opulence, boasting comfortable beds and luxurious furnishings. It's evident that no expense was spared in creating this haven.

Seth occupies the spacious, well-appointed bathroom, equipped with modern fixtures and amenities. The sleek counters, walk-in shower, and bathtub all contribute to the sense of luxuriousness. He stands by the massive sink, water running as he rinses his injured arm under the taps.

"Is that going to be a problem?" Naneve inquires.

"No," Seth replies, his voice steady. "It's just a flesh wound, and there was no infection from them. I'd feel it if there were."

I understand that pain, the searing sting when the Nostro slashed me on the shoulder. That heals slowly.

Naneve hops up onto a grand table nearby, leans back on her hands and starts swinging her legs back and forth. "So, what's the plan now? Are we staying here? Going back to Sanctuary?"

Sanctuary was the place they took Seth and me after we fell last time—a place where Donovan sent in a horde of thirsty.

Seth takes a deep breath, an act that seems strange given he’s a vampire. "I need to clean this," he says, nodding down at his arm. "Then I'll feed, and after that, we'll assess what Donovan has left me beyond these walls."

He glances at the ceiling as if he can already discern what lies above.

My heart flutters at the thought of the people who once resided here. Who might be left? What devastation could Donovan have wrought? Nearly all of them were strangers to me, but they had lives, aspirations, and dreams. I clench my hands together tightly, not wanting to dwell on the possible horrors. This world has become so unbearably ugly.

Killian appears to share my concerns. "Do you think he has destroyed everything?" he asks while handing Seth a first aid kit. Seth accepts it, though his expression doesn't suggest he's thrilled about needing assistance.

The wound on Seth's arm still bleeds, and he grabs a towel to pat it dry. The white cotton comes away stained. "My brother has always been spoilt." He leans against the counter, one hand resting on the bloodied towel. His gaze meets mine in the mirror, crimson red-rimmed irises locking onto mine, sending my pulse racing. "He always destroys what he can't have." Then, just as swiftly, he looks away, redirecting his attention to Killian. "Give me an update on your people. What are the losses? And how did they miss Avery's treachery?"

Killian's demeanour shifts, visibly burdened by Seth's question. Guilt and shame weigh him down, and the mention of the 'Avery thing' clearly makes him uncomfortable. It's not just out of respect for Seth, but the shame he carries himself. "I don't have a clue. None of us saw it. I didn't even suspect. He was always so ... so damn ...” He sighs, lowering his voice, but the remorse is palpable. “I trusted him."

Seth maintains a stoic expression, his focus on Killian, devoid of anger. "Do not bear the weight of it. A mistake was made, but it cannot happen again."

"It won't happen again." Killian's conviction is unwavering, and even I find myself believing him. The determination in his words is absolute.

"Tell me about your men and women. I see Naneve survived her ordeal with Avery," Seth remarks, showing no hint of concern. I don't know what happened there, either. So much has changed after a decade in captivity, and all I know now is how to say yes and do as I'm told.

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