Chapter 27 Susenyos
SUSENYOS
Even now, he could taste her blood from the library, coating his teeth like honey.
She’d tasted achingly sweet. What troubled him was his hunger never had a mind of its own.
Susenyos was always able to anticipate it and bend it to him, but this was the first time he’d lost control over his body and the memory chilled his very spine.
The broom closet had been a pleasant relief but it had lasted only a few moments before his human skin started to itch, and Kidan’s touch felt as it did before—horribly invasive. He had to either face his demons as a human or suffer hunger as a vampire. Susenyos chose a third route.
If he was successful today, all these problems would be solved.
“Do you have it?” he asked Iniko, voice rough.
From inside Iniko’s brocade vest, she drew a syringe of blood.
Tesasus Ajtaf’s blood—Ramyn Ajtaf’s father.
“You need to be careful,” she said. “One drop of that on you, and the Sicions will be after you instead.”
He nodded.
“When are you going to do it?”
“Samson will come to me.” Susenyos allowed himself a smile. “I left him a message.”
It was a letter from Talaa, his betrothed.
Talaa had written to Susenyos only three times, twice to practice unladylike insults and once to profess her great reluctance in marrying him.
Susenyos had slightly altered it to look like a love confession.
It was difficult to remember her without thinking of a decaying body and twisting black vines.
The scars on his lower back woke with new vengeance, searing into him.
Susenyos inhaled deeply, letting the pain wash over him.
Taj walked in then, collapsing backward on Iniko’s bed.
“Well?” Susenyos asked.
“June knew who the Six Manes were.” Taj’s usually bright eyes were troubled. “Answered Andreyas’s question without blinking. Hell, I was impressed. Prof was too.”
The mystery around June Adane didn’t interest Susenyos but he worried about her excelling so quickly.
“Do you think she’ll pass the first assignment?” he asked Taj.
Taj nodded. “She can read Aarac well. Amharic too.”
He’d known this from June’s video. The Nefrasi had apparently taught her well.
“Have you talked to her yet?”
Taj shook his head. “Not yet.”
“Let me know when you do.”
With that, Susenyos walked to the spare room he’d taken in the vampire-only building. The window was cut high in the wall so the sun barely touched him. He hated it. Lurking in the shadows was for hideous creatures and he’d established long ago he was meant for the light.
The door opened behind him and a tall shadow climbed on the floor.
“So you’ve finally come.” Susenyos took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. “Good. I was starting to get bored.”
Samson barely moved his jaw. “This letter is a lie.”
“Read it to me.”
The paper crumpled in his metal hand. “She never said these words to you. She didn’t love you—”
Susenyos snapped the leg of a wooden chair, sped forward, and shoved it deep into Samson’s stomach, savoring the soundless gasp.
The stretch of his eyes.
He patted his cheek, staring into soulless pupils. “Always falling for the same trick.”
With a sudden unforgiving twist, Susenyos snapped his neck. Samson collapsed backward, thudding to the ground like a mountain rock. The chair’s leg still sticking out of him.
Susenyos sighed, studying the blood on him. It would be pointless trying to sway Samson. He might sit on the Nefrasi throne but his power came from Arin. They respected her strength more than anything.
Susenyos retrieved the syringe full of Ajtaf blood and returned to his poor friend. He opened Samson’s mouth, peeling back his lip to reveal the elongated fangs. He pressed the needle to the gums above each and pushed, emptying the syringe.
Drinking from someone that wasn’t your companion was illegal. Unless you had a record of it in the blood courting room. And Professor Andreyas would be disappointed his daily lessons had been fruitless.
Susenyos wasn’t fond of framing his enemies.
He preferred to carve out their hearts with his silver weapon and be done with it.
But Samson had plotted at length to frame him for June’s disappearance and Ramyn’s death once.
Caused such a rift of distrust between Kidan and him, it still couldn’t be bridged.
This was payback.
He ran his hands over the front of Samson’s chest until he found something solid and pulled out Samson’s flask.
It was half full.
Shutting his eyes in relief, he unscrewed the lid and breathed in deeply. It smelled like the sweetest fruit in the eve of spring.
Kidan’s blood.
Tentatively, he allowed himself a small, torturous taste. Every nerve in his body became electrified, and disappeared instantly, leaving him hollow.
“Fuck.” He groaned as he took another sip.
His claws nearly pierced the metal and it was a miracle he gathered enough control not to finish it here and now.
He shook as he screwed the lid back on, the monster in his gut screaming for more.
How long can you keep this up? A voice scratched at the back of his mind. Sooner or later, you’re going to have to feed on her and pray you don’t kill her in the process.