Page 128 of House of Crimson Kisses
“Red, please, you’re all I have left… Don’t leave me alone,” Amelia finishes.
It’s the tipper for Red. Her expression softens, and she clasps Amelia’s hand. Knowing she’s going to drink and survive another day doesn’t wipe the tang of guilt off the back of my tongue.
“Fuck,” Red says. She pulls her hands over her face, trying to hide the frustration.
She snatches the bag from Amelia. “I’m not fucking killing anyone, do you hear me? I will take a sip. But if it’s my life or an innocent’s, we all know who I choose.”
My lips press together. We will see about that. But I figure now is not the time to contradict her when she’s willing to try the blood, at least. This is a perilous game that the three of us are desperate to win. And Red hates losing.
Her eyes meet mine from across the room, her brow wrinkles, and I hate how much she doesn’t want to do this. How much she’s desperate to not be like me, to not become anything like me.
Then I remind myself this isn’t about me. This is about her, and it’s not a reflection of how she feels about me or a judgement on my monstrousness. This is about Red and her need to come to terms with herself.
She needs to embrace this side of herself or risk losing herself entirely.
Red keeps her eyes on me the entire time as she brings the blood bag to her lips.
Her hand trembles where she grips the plastic. She tips it and a drizzle of blood touches her tongue.
I’m instantly wet watching her consume blood. Gods, how would I feel watching her drink from the source? Possession and ownership are funny things. I don’t want anyone touching what’s mine. But watching her drink? Or using her power and embracing herself to guzzle blood from the still-living body of a human?
That sight alone might make me come undone.
Red’s eyes light up as the first drops hit her tongue. She drinks more, then a little more. Then puts the bag down, the light winking out entirely.
“Nothing is different,” she says.
Amelia and Xavier glance at each other. Something passes between them.
“What is it?” I ask.
Xavier kicks off the wall and heads to the door. “We suspected that blood from a bag wouldn’t cut it. At least not at the moment. Not while she’s still in human form. The transition has weakened her too much. We think she needs a far more pure, more beautiful source of blood.”
Amelia stands up, taking the bag off Red. She glances at me before turning to her sister. “You need to drink from the source.”
“What? No. I’m not a fucking vampire. I agreed to the bag, not to hurting a human,” she snaps, crashing back against her headboard.
“I think you’ll find your teeth are amply sharp enough not to hurt them.” I say, and that makes her cheeks heat.
“Xavier,” I command, and he doesn’t need to be prompted. He flies from the room at vampire speed.
“I’m not drinking from a fucking human, Octavia. Forget it. What would they think? I’m clearly not a vampire. They’re going to know that I’m the dhampir, or about to be it. If that got out...?”
“We can compel them,” Amelia says. “Don’t put boundaries in your way. You need to do this. And if drinking from a bag won’t work, then you have to try from the source. It’s no different.”
Red’s fists ball, her jaw clenches. “It’s very fucking different.”
I need to get a handle on this before we lose her. “I know it’s not fair. But do we ever ask for the hand we’re dealt? Life is about how you handle what you have. Do you lie down and quit? Or do you stand and fight?”
“Fuck you, Octavia,” she says, but there’s no bite in her tone.
Xavier returns, a rather flustered man in his grip. Red glances from Xavier to the man and swings her legs out of the bed. She wobbles as she stands, and Amelia grabs her.
Red approaches him as Xavier forces him onto his knees.
“Look at me,” she says. “Do you consent to be a donor?”
“I do,” he says and nods.
