Page 20 of Midnight Queen

Correction, I’m longing for the kind of comfort only Silas can provide me. I want to feel his lips on my wrists instead of the metal shackles that still dig into them. I want him to brush the tears I’m powerless to stop off my face and most of all, I want to hear him say the nickname he’s gifted me with once more.

Hearing him say it in the dream wasn’t enough for me. If I am to die tonight, hearing him say my name once more is my final wish.

The cuts are just deep enough that they haven’t fully scabbed over. Blood still trickles from them. Everything hurts. Each breath I pull into my lungs causes the cuts on my chest to strain. My skin has been painted crimson from all the spilled blood. The fabric of my bra is caked with so much blood, the fabric is glued to my skin. My mouth waters as I fight back the urge to throw up because of it.

I attempt to shift my body into a more comfortable position, but the options are slim given my chained limbs. It’s only when I try to move my arms do I realize they’re no longer positioned above my head, but instead they are now at my sides.

The remaining drug-induced fog clears from my head when I look down to find the needles embedded in my veins on either arm. Crimson tubing leads to the blood bags that are slowly being filled.

My stomach sinks at the sight of my body being depleted. Gideon was vocal about this being his plan from the start, but there was a small part of me still clinging to hope that all of this would be over before he got around to actually doing it.

I believed Silas would find me in time.

I attempt to lift my head to get a better look, but with each movement, the wounds on my chest strain and cause blinding agony to shoot through my body. Reluctantly, I drop my head back to the metal.

“What did you expect, Quincey? You told the knife-wielding maniac vampire that you have grade A blood,” I hoarsely scold myself.

“You were right.” Gideon’s voice suddenly comes from the dark corner of the room. He moves toward me in a slow, lazy shuffle. “I’ve told our viewers just how scrumptious your blood truly is. They’re all very eager to get their hands on it.” He pats the camera with the glowing red light on it as he passes. “Sorry, we started without you. I tried to wake you, but that sedative seemed to have worked better than I expected.” Coming to a stop by my head, he looks down at me with unblinking eyes. I feel like every time he enters this room, he’s further gone. It’s like he’s grasping on to the remaining pieces of his sanity. “Did you sleep well? Pleasant dreams I hope.”

When his finger swipes across my jaw, I turn my head and try to bite him, but he moves before I can sink my teeth into his digit. Tauntingly, he waves the same finger in my face while making atskingnoise.

“My dreams were great,” I snap at him. “I dreamed that Silas set your body on fire and while you burned into nothing, I roasted a marshmallow like I was a goddamn Girl Scout.”

“I’ll give you points for creativity,” he offers dryly while he checks the bags that are filling with my blood. “You’ll only be able to fill six of these before your body begins to shut down and you’ll lose consciousness. There simply won’t be enough blood in your system for your heart to pump to your brain. The good news is it shouldn’t be painful for you.” Just like so many times before, his eyes drift to the corner he’d been standing in just a moment beforehand. “And then I’ll be ready to reunite with her.”

I stare at the corner, trying to figure out what it is he’s seeing, but just like before, it’s empty. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you and catch up after all these years apart. Tell me, Gideon, are you going to start with this story—ourstory—or are you going to start somewhere a little less gruesome?”

“Margret already knows this story,” he corrects me instantly. “We don’t have secrets.”

It doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s no longer using past tense when he talks about her. He’s speaking of her like she’s still here with him.

Eyes drifting back to the shadowed corner, the dots start clicking in my head. Returning to look at his haggard face, I play along, “Honesty is good to have in a relationship. Lies bring nothing but trouble in the long run.”

If rotations in the psych ward during nursing school taught me anything, it’s if you can’t beat the crazy, join it. For some patients, it was better for us to play along with their delusions instead of arguing their existence.

As it is, I’m too tired to argue or verbally spar with him right now. The emotional exhaustion and the accumulating blood loss are starting to deplete my energy.

“I never kept secrets from her—I told her everything,” he says, switching back to past tense like he himself can’t keep what he’s saying straight. “She accepted everything about me.”

“Of course she did,” I sigh. “She loved you. When you love someone, you accept everything about them, even the flaws they see in themselves.”

I see all the sides of you, Silas. Some of them I enjoy more than others, but Iacceptall of them.That’s what I’d told Silas when I’d learned his secret. He tried so hard to convince me to be afraid of his monster side, but I hadn’t listened. Instead, I kissed him until he believed me.

Gideon’s brows pull together. “Even knowing what he’s done, you can still accept him?”

I’m saved from having to answer the question when loud, abrupt pounding at the metal door makes my body jerk in surprise. I just barely catch the startled sound from escaping my lips.

A low ominous snarl comes from Gideon before he moves to the door in a quick flash of movement. His pale fingers almost rip it off the tracks when he slides it harshly open. “I told you I didn’t want you on this side of the building,” he snarls at someone I can’t make out from my angle.

A voice I don’t recognize answers, “I know, but there’s a problem.”

Gideon silently stands there for a second before his head turns back in my direction with an accusatory look.

On reflex, I roll my eyes at him. “Well, don’t look at me. I didn’t do anything.” I huff. “I’ve been otherwise occupied if you haven’t noticed.”

Without a word, Gideon stalks out of the room, closing the door behind him with just as much force as he opened it.

I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I can feel it in my gut that things are about to get ugly. There’s a shift in the air that causes my heart rate to shoot up and fingers tremble with anxiety. In an attempt to still my shaking hands, I ball my fists, but the action causes pain in my injured wrists.

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