Page 74 of Sworn to Consume
“I need my medicine,” I manage, voice hoarse. “Please. Please!”
Someone grabs my arm—Kayla, I think, still at my side—but Bay has already rushed inside.
“What medicine?” Kayla asks, and for a second, I can actually hear her.
“My father—” I start, but then something else takes over.
A sudden flare of violet light erupts from behind me—only for a second or two—and just as quickly disappears. I freeze.
And then—
Silence.
The voices are gone.
Gone.
Just like that.
What the actual fuck is happening?
I suck in a shaky breath and straighten slowly, still shaking, and glance at Kayla. Her expression mirrors mine—disbelief, confusion, and just a little bit of fear.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “A little lapse. I’m… sick.”
I don’t even finish the sentence. I don’t have the energy.
I need my medicine.
I need my sister.I shouldn’t have left with her that day to meet Vlad. I fight a tear, my chest tightening at the reminder.
And I need to know what the hell is happening to me.
I thought I had more time—just a little more time—but why did it stop so suddenly? It’s never stopped like that. It’s always dragged on for hours… not cut off in a blink.
“I think we’re okay now,” Kayla says softly, glancing back toward the entrance before sighing in what sounds like honest relief.
“What happened?” I ask, my voice still trembling.
She doesn’t answer. Just shakes her head and gives me a weak smile. “Nothing. It’s okay now.”
She doesn’t believe that.
Neither do I.
“Let’s go back inside.”
I glance around as we walk, still searching for a sign, a whisper, some shadow of an answer—anything that could tell me what the hell is wrong with me, or with this place. But everything is still now. Silent. Too silent.
Kayla’s hand loosens around my arm as she leads me gently back into the apartment.
“Wasn’t I supposed to stay with Chris?” I ask quietly, remembering that much from earlier.
“She’ll be back. You can stay with me for now.”
I glance around the apartment’s entrance again, my eyes drifting back to that door—the one Maleciandro took Kayla into before everything spun sideways. It’s still locked, but now the hallway is quiet, not glowing under the door. Too quiet. Like the silence after a scream. Like the world’s holding its breath.
That door must be soundproof. I can’t hear a thing from behind it—not a breath, not a footstep. Just the low hum of the AC brushing against my skin, cool and constant, fitting the shadowed evening pressing against the high glass walls.
