Chapter 12
Odessa’s POV
I felt numb. That’s all I could think. My brain was foggy. The room I was in was colder than I liked it, and the bed I was in wasn’t mine. Or the guest room’s bed at Devareaux’s. I could hear voices, one soft and pained, the other confused.
“You need to drink of your wife. You are starting to fail.”
“She needs her blood more than I do.”
“You have never drank the full blood of your wife?”
What? What does that mean? And who was talking?
Devareaux spoke softly, “I don’t want to drain her, but when I take the blood I’m so consumed and I struggle to stop. It’s like a feeding frenzy.”
I had never heard it described that way. But I also hadn’t known he wasn’t drinking until he was satiated, as he was supposed to. What did that mean for him?
“That cannot happen. What you are describing does sound unusual, but we are made to stop upon the limit. It is just how we are.” The doctor sounded frustrated. “Why would you even think that would be a negative thing?”
In a quiet, pained voice, Devareaux said, “I didn’t want to be consumed by her. Our statuses are so different.” The doctor made a sound of disapproval.
“I am grateful our makers don’t normally pair low blood borns with high blood borns.”
What?
“Because it just proves that you high and mighties really do think you are better. You don’t deserve your blood wife.” He huffed. “You need to drink of your wife. You are starting to fail.”
Had he not gone to Quinn when I didn’t arrive?
“She needs her blood more than I do. I can wait until she is replenished.”
“No you cannot. Take some now or you will fail.”
When someone talks about a vampyr failing, it means the body organs have not had enough blood and will start to deteriorate. Why did Devareaux not go to Quinn, or even one of the blood banks for a sample of human blood? He should not have waited this long for my blood.
“Take a small bite of her. It should be enough until she wakes.” He sounded disgusted, and I heard shuffling until the door closed loudly.
Then silence. At one point I thought I heard crying.
Devareaux’s voice came out in a whisper as he took hold of my limp hand on the bed. “I don’t deserve you. You deserve better.” He whimpered. “But I want to deserve you. I need to deserve you. I cannot let you go.”
Silence. Then he gripped my hand a little tighter. “I love you, Odessa.”
Then silence again. He continued to hold my hand for a long time, with the only sounds being from the noise outside of the room. I laid in a hazy fog.
I vaguely remembered being kidnapped. Then it dawned on me.
I had been forced into a bloodletting party.
Somehow, Devareaux found me and took me to a recovery facility.
Since vampyrs technically don’t get sick, our society did not have the need for hospitals, like the human societies did.
Instead, we had recovery facilities for those who needed a place of rest to regain their strength after a bloodletting or if a vampyr had gone too long between takings.
I felt Devareaux take my hand and press my wrist to his lips. Although I assumed he would bite me to drink, there was a flicker of something inside me at his touch.
“I am sorry, my love. Just a small taste. I promise.” He bit into my wrist making me gasp.
I couldn’t open my eyes if I wanted to, but the pain was sharper in my wrist than my neck.
I did not feel any of the euphoria I did when my blood was normally taken, but I assumed it may be because I was still recovering.
I didn’t know what to believe or what to feel. I was still mostly numb from the loss of blood from the bloodletting. As he said, he did not drink much of me. Eventually, I fell back into a steady sleep.
When I woke again, Devareaux was still holding my hand, caressing the back with his thumb. I tried to pull my hand back, but he gripped it tighter as my eyes fluttered open. I turned to see him sitting next to the bed, his hair disheveled, eyes red rimmed, and a pained expression.
“Odessa,” he breathed out my name. “You’re finally awake.”
I nodded ever so slightly, and again tried to pull my hand back from him, but he continued to grip it. “You lost a lot of blood, but the doctor said you should be back to your usual self within a few days. I think it would be best for you to recover back at home.”
I hesitated, looking at him. “You’re home?”
He flinched. “Our home, my love.” He looked sad.
I shook my head. “Your home.”
More fiercely, “No, our home. You are my blood wife. You will stay my blood wife. No other woman will ever take that position. Not now. Not ever! I almost lost you, for good. No! I do not accept that.” His eyes were intense on me.
“You want someone who fits in your circle. I do not. I will not.”
He shook his head aggressively. “No! I do not want you to fit in. I want you, Odessa! You! All of you! The woman who has a soft soul for others, who is as beautiful inside as she is out. Who sacrifices her own happiness for a scoundrel of a husband who couldn’t see past the end of his upbringing.
A status, a status that means absolutely nothing without you by my side. ”
I looked away, tired and wary.
“With you as a low blood born, and me as an aristocrat, we could be a team and cause a reckoning.”
I turned to look at him, confused. “What do you mean?”
He sighed and looked away. “I never knew of how rampant the kidnappings and bloodlettings were in this part of society.” His voice took on a hard edge.
“It shouldn’t be happening at all.” He looked at me with determination.
“With your knowledge, and maybe even that of Mr. Trudeau, and my influences, we could possibly clean up the neighborhoods.”
My tone tensed. “Clean up?”
He looked at me and swallowed audibly. “What happens to those who have been taken for bloodletting…...gatherings?”
I continued to gaze at Devareaux, debating how much I should tell him.
I had become highly aware of the lack of knowledge among the status levels while spending time at my husband’s home.
Although his staff were considered low blood born, they were provided luxuries that other low blood borns were not, but still not an equal to the mid blood borns.
The differences were astronomical, and both mid and high blood borns allotted themselves the luxury of ignorance to the hardships that low blood borns dealt with on a daily basis.
Maybe I would still lose my husband, but if I could use this blood partnership for as long as I could to help the low blood borns, I had to take the chance.
“They are called ‘Bloodless Parties’.” Devareaux grimaced, but nodded. I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes, letting it out slowly. When I opened them, Devareaux’s eyes were intently on me.
“You know the ones that are referred to as bleeders? The street vampyrs?” His expression looked confused for a second, then morphed into understanding.
He nodded. “When a person is taken to a Bloodless Party, they are usually there for at last a few days. The longest I had heard was four days. That may not seem very long to you, but missing work, for more than one day, can completely destroy our way of living. After a second day of missed work, we can lose our position. There are a small handful of businesses that look the other way, but places under certain aristocratic ownership have been harsh and hold firm to the rules and policies.”
Devareaux looked away for a moment. “Like businesses owned and ran by Mr. D’Avare.” He turned back to me, making me look away. But I nodded. We did not discuss the aristocrats, especially the ones we were not fond of. It could come back on us, and we struggled enough. I heard him grunt.
“He is poor Onyx’s new father-in-law.”
My head whipped up to Devareaux, my eyes wide with shock. “Another high blood born matched with a low blood born?”
He nodded.
“He proved useful,” he muttered.
He proceeded to explain how he found me in the first place.
“Oh wow. I must thank him then. Mr. Trudeau is quite impressive.”
Devareaux growled lowly, then shrugged. “He didn’t really want to help at first, admitting he knew that part of the life there.
But after I begged him,” I gasped loudly, causing Devareaux to look me straight in the eyes, “yes begged him, he finally conceded. He gave me as much information as he could. He came along to make sure I found you. I had gone to another warehouse first, but that was enough to anger my blood.” He looked agitated.
I glanced over him, and quietly asked, “What did happen when you found me?”
He grimaced and looked away. “Nothing pretty. But nothing I regret, either,” he added harshly.
I sucked in a loud breath, making him look to me. “No one gets to hurt my blood wife, and gets away with it. No one.” His voice was firm.
I laid back into the bed as I was getting tired again.
“Rest, my wife. We can talk more when you wake.”
Before I could think of anything to say to that, my eyes fluttered closed.
A couple of days later, I had been escorted back to Devareaux’s estate against my firm disapproval. He insisted I stay in the master room although I argued it would be better for both of us if I stayed in a guest room until it was time for me to leave again.
He had looked at me gravely at the time, and told me, “I will prove my love to you, my wife.”
We would see about that.
I would give it a week and return to my flat. During that first day, I rested most of the time. The staff came in and out to check on me, bringing me food, drinks, pillows, whatever I needed or wanted.
Devareaux, on the other hand, seemed to hover. I told him to go out and do something with himself. He left for only a few hours before he was popping in and out again, anxiously watching over me.