Page 36 of This Ravenous Fate
Giana sighed. “I understand. But she needs some part of her previous life back. It’s so much harder to transition when you’re uprooted with nothing to keep you grounded.”
Contemplative silence stretched between them. Then Layla nodded. “Promise to look out for her.”
Giana agreed. She looked over Layla’s shoulder, and herexpression softened. Layla recognized Shirley’s scent and turned to see her standing in cotton pajamas, her body looking especially frail in the dawn light shining through the windows.
“Giana?” Shirley whispered.
“Hi, baby doll. How are you feeling?” Giana asked gently.
Shirley took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was light, but stronger. “I feel…steadier. There isn’t as much rushing in my head. And I can’t sense every living being around me as closely as I could before. It was like… If I opened my mouth, the scent of blood running through people’s veins just infested me. I hated it, but I also craved it. The taste gives me a sensation unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.” Shirley drew closer to Layla and Giana, finally settling into a seated position in front of the fireplace.
“I still don’t remember anything besides running home because I was scared I would hurt the other dancers. But then my parents kept banging on my door and I was so, so hungry—” Her voice hitched and a sob rose in her throat. Layla looked away when tears spilled down her cheeks. “At first, I thought I was in this nightmare. There was blood everywhere, and everything felt fuzzy. But seeing you and Giana now is the clearest I’ve felt since being turned.” Shirley sniffed. “Thank you for coming to me.”
Giana reached across the table to squeeze Shirley’s hand. “Of course. It happened to me, too, my first night in New York. I know how much it means to have someone there for you.” Her eyes warmed. “None of the dancers know you’re a reaper, by the way. They just think you’re sick. It’s probably better we keep it that way.”
“Can I still dance?” she asked.
Layla finally looked at her again. “Sure. If you learn to control your urges and prevent blood furies.”
Shirley nodded. “That’s when reapers lose control and kill anything that moves?”
Giana’s lips twisted.
Layla sighed. “More or less,” she muttered. “It’s something that happens when reapers are in a state of starvation. Don’t ignore the need to feed. Blood highs are less dangerous because they’re a reaction to feeding, so you won’t have as many impulses. In fact, you’re slightly subdued, but you will get an adrenaline rush,” Layla said. She was feeling tired herself—her muscles ached at the thought of blood, signaling the need for another feeding. Letting Shirley have her blood had only increased her hunger.
“You gave me your blood last night. What kind of properties does reaper blood contain? Yours made me feel good.” Shirley’s eyelashes fluttered as she looked down at her hands. A hot blush rose in Layla’s cheeks. She hadn’t considered the aftermath of Shirley drinking her blood; the situation needed a quick fix and that was all Layla could think of.
“Reaper blood can heal mild wounds on anyone. But for humans, it can be hypnotizing when consumed. That’s why humans might be drawn to their donor for a while. Because they’re weak. For reapers, it produces calming effects. That’s why I gave it to you. I thought you were about to kill the Saint girl.” She watched Shirley take her first sip of the blood in the glass. “And I cannot have her murdered whenshe’s the only thing keeping me out of prison right now.”
“How is that going?” Giana asked. She held a silver compact in her hand, fingers patting at the smudged liner around her eyes.
“So well,” Layla groaned, standing up. “Giana will stay with you for now, Shirley—”
“I will?” Giana asked, looking up from her compact.
Layla ignored her and looked at Shirley. “When I come back, we can discuss the future.”
“I’m already half-dead; I don’t think I have a future,” Shirley whispered.
The room went still. Layla looked to Giana, whose face briefly flickered with pain. But she leaned forward and gently touched Shirley’s hand, then flashed an easy smile.
“Don’t worry, doll. We’ll take good care of you.”
18
“You look tired,” Elise’s mother told her. “How are you sleeping?”
She and her mother were the first two at the breakfast table. After last night’s conversation with her father, Elise couldn’t stomach more than fruit. But now she looked over at Analia Saint. In another life, Elise might have admired her mother’s strength, but now she could see in her eyes the hollow darkness came from being the wife of a man like her father, from having to suppress her own emotions. Young girls were supposed to look up to their mothers and want to be just like them. But Elise had always been scared to see any part of herself in her mother.
“There are some nightmares, but I’m okay,” Elise said quietly.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to baby you, I just… I miss when you were smaller. When things were easier. I miss your sisters so much.”
“I don’t feel babied,” Elise whispered. If her mother needed to see her as little again to keep herself together, then Elise wouldallow it.
“You’re calm just like Charlotte,” she breathed. Elise stiffened, but she softened again as her mother smiled. “Even when times are tough, you hold yourself together. And I believe that calmness will get you through this darkness, Elise.” The tenderness in her mother’s tone made Elise want to cry. After everything she had been through in the past few days, having a moment where someone justlovedher felt like everything.
Elise blinked back tears. “Mama, I—”
