Page 11 of House of Crimson Kisses
“I’ll stop visiting New Imperium when you learn to stay put.”
“Fuck you, Octavia, you don’t own me.”
“I think you’ll find that you’re my teammate. Which means you’re mine to protect.”
“I’m not an idiot. I don’t need any drainers knowing where I’m going.” She wipes her mouth.
God, this is déjà vu. She’d thrown things like this at me not two weeks ago. I wonder if it’s me, if I’m quietly driving myself insane repeating the same mistakes over and over. Sure, the number of times I’ve expunged myself from her memories is limited. But the amount of memories I’ve taken? The number of mistakes I’ve hidden, hurts I’ve removed? She’d never forgive me if she knew. I can’t keep doing this.
I sigh. “So we’re back to drainer?”
“Did we ever leave it?” she snaps.
Fuck. Right. No, we didn’t. Is this the time where I’ve overlaid the web so many times it all falls down? Can I even keep track of which memories are gone?
Mother of Blood. I rub my eyes, exhausted already. “I suppose not.”
She turns away from me, hiding her expression. But she keeps wiping her mouth.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“What’s it to you?”
I grit my teeth. It’s going to be a long night. “As my trial partner, it’s of utmost importance to me you stay in good health. And frankly, you look terrible.”
“And whose fault is that?” she snaps.
I tilt my head at her. “Explain.”
She pauses one brief second and then flings her hand up. “Forget it. I’m just thirsty. Like really thirsty.”
“If there’s a carriage that passes, I’ll stop them and ask for their water.”
“Not. That thirst.”
“Oh,” I say. “Right. Your addiction.”
She glares at me. “Don’t call it that.”
“Would you prefer I called it your teddy bear?”
She rolls her eyes at me.
“Well, I can assist you with this problem as well.”
“I’d rather drink a dying vampire’s blood than yours. Or did you forget you turned my sister?”
I groan. I can’t help it. Amelia is going to kill me when I tell her she’s going to have to break the news to her sister all over again.
“You have no choice. You’re not drinking any other vampire’s blood.”
She rounds on me, shoves me against the tunnel wall. “Did you fucking hear me? You turned my sister. Why the hell would I drink your blood?”
She shoves and shoves. Something is… off. She’s emanating a strange twist of emotions. I don’t know if I can smell them or if they’re inside me. The bond, perhaps. But they’re visceral. She is visceral. The hot prickle of rage coats my flesh, the static tingle of irritation like pepper in the air. Confusion, disappointment.
Wait.
Disappointment?
