Page 44 of Hound

“Nina?” I whispered into the air. Instead of meeting a short, muscular build with black hair, I stumbled on an empty room. The last time I was here, she was bedridden, swallowed by the queen-sized bed that took up the majority of the room. The random wooden furniture cramped what little space this room offered.

Still, there was a sense of comfort to the fuchsia walls and deep plush carpet that the CEG dorms didn’t have. They were stark white and squared with a small bed alongside a nightstand. Sometimes a desk, but rarely since we weren’t meant to be stuck in our rooms. At least here she had a closet that?—

Wait. What was that?

A book bag rested on the floor next to a very familiar briefcase. The one I brought Nina on my first day. It was unlocked, and instinct tugged at me. I caved. Empty blood bags stared in response.

All three of them.

They were supposed to be stretched out until next month. Why had she drank them all? She never did so, unless she starved and hadn’t?—

No.

My gaze fell on the half-zipped book bag. Fingers pulled at them until orange jars spilled into my hands, each one filled to the brim with large, white pills. Pills doctors had prescribed Nina for her condition. The condition she could cure. The one Lace worked on tirelessly to help her with.

Pills she wasn’t taking.

For how long?

My body tumbled onto the soft mattress, my weight pressing down on it as I stared into the dark closet. Footsteps echoed behind me. There was no need to turn around when I felt the shift in the air. The sharp inhale of Nina.

“You lied to Lace,” I said, my voice distant. “You lied to me, Nina.”

“No-no, I didn’t!” She motioned, but suddenly halted when I met her gaze.

“Katerina. You promised you would take your medication no matter what. It was the price you had to pay to keep working.”

I could excuse teen Katerina whenever she skipped pills or thought she could go without them. Resisting help in the beginning was normal. Diving into the unknown and being seen as weak was always the hardest. But now, after more than three years being prescribed medication, this was unacceptable. She had no excuse for this.

So why? Why would she regress when Lace and Iwantedher to improve?

Unless she didn’t want to.

No. I wasn’t going to let her.

“I’m not going to tell Lace yet. But you won’t be going to the Christmas Ball. I’m staying behind to ensure that. It’s going to be a large event. We can’t risk it ‘cause you chose to not take your medication.”

“You can’t do that. Please, Lorenzo. I have to go to the Christmas Ball.” Her expression faltered, the pain in her gaze caving.

I’d only witnessed her rampage once. It was a blur after all these years, but there, deep in my mind, a shadowed figure lived like Mom. Distant, irretrievable, but breathing with the little life it possessed. Always there—haunting.

Her figure cowered. Did the room suddenly shrink? “Who knows what could happen in a room filled with humans and vampires while unmedicated. I’m not putting that to the test just for you to have fun for one night, Katerina!”

My words echoed, but her whispered words punched me in my chest. “Did you ever really trust me?”

Our foundation was supposed to be built on trust. On days I thought it stood strong, something always wedged it, whether it was on Nina or me. We always played this tug of war, pulling at the remaining thin thread, always testing instead of fortifying it. It was why we fought about it. Why, even now, I couldn’t say yes or no.

“I can’t say. I never pestered you for answers. I respected your privacy and kept all my questions to myself, but if I can’t depend on you doing the bare minimum, there are no more excuses.” It was my problem to bear.

“What does that mean?”

And I needed to make sure no one got hurt.

“You’re unequipped as a guardian, Katerina. You’ll be leaving with me after the Ball, and I will push for your title to be stripped to Lace.”

Tense silence wedged between us, Nina’s face completely hardening as I left and forgot all reason. Fuck all these stupid rules for guardians. No more sneaking through the shadows. What would be the worst they’d do? Fire me? We were less than five days away from that Christmas Ball. Six days away from going back to the CEG. They’d be doing me a fucking favor at this rate.

Eyes fell on me as I pushed through the tall doors and exited the mansion, my feet walking to the employee quarters. But the last thing I needed was to be in that sad-of-an-excuse room. The gym wasn’t going to help. Running would.

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