Chapter 4 #3
I shivered as the chill of the house seeped into my skin and closed around my bones. Perhaps a hot shower would fix things. Of course, the nicest shower was in Esmé’s quarters, but the one with the cracked tiles and unreliable water pressure in my bathroom still got hot enough to warm me up.
I stood under the spray until my skin was red and wrinkled. I didn’t want to leave the cocoon of water cascading over me, but it would start to cool off soon and it was better to get out with the memory of the shower still being hot.
Besides, there was only so much standing in the shower I could do.
Standing there with my eyes closed allowed my mind to wander too much, and I imagined…
Suddenly, I was joined by a large man with close-cropped hair and a scar I wanted to trace as it worked over his head.
He had eyes I wanted to gaze into, lips I wanted to taste, and I—
I shook my head. That train of thought was dangerous. Heat had prickled in my breasts and flickered between my legs, and I didn’t need that. I just had to get through this and keep Esmé happy.
I wrapped a thin towel around me and rubbed my arms briskly over the rough fabric to dry myself off and keep the heat in my body that the water had introduced.
I yanked on my fluffiest pajamas and shoved my feet into thick socks.
Really, I probably needed a warm drink to wrap my hands around too, but I settled for some fingerless gloves, even though they made me feel like a bum in my own home.
I sat on the sagging couch cushions and tried to imagine I was back at Mom’s as I turned on the old TV. Only certain channels worked, and most of them flickered, but there was still something comforting about watching the minutiae of the lives of fictional people and hearing them interact.
I glanced at the clock. Hopefully, I’d have a while to catch up before Esmé returned home from wherever she was. She was probably somewhere doing something for Brock, anyway, and that meant she’d return home hungry.
As much as I craved Esmé’s venom, I resented the increased frequency of her feedings. It was like she was speeding through my slow death, using me all up before she found herself a replacement.
And what did her needing so much more of my blood so often say about Esmé? It was like she craved me too. I shuddered. I’d never wanted to be anyone’s drug. I’d never wanted to be on drugs either, but with the way my system needed the venom these days, I was as good as.
The thought of venom coursing through me sent a shiver of anticipation through my body, and I grimaced as I tensed my muscles and waited out the surge of desire.
I rubbed my hands over my upper arms again, trying to chase away the feeling.
I didn’t want to want. I didn’t want to chase that high, that bliss, all the time.
Every day, there were times I considered running away from New Orleans and going cold turkey. But that wouldn’t help me. I’d still crave. I wouldn’t ever recover.
I’d still die.
There was only one way I’d ever escape this life, and that was if Esmé turned me — or someone else did. But I didn’t want to be one of those. A bloodsucker.
And Esmé had never mentioned it as an option. She probably hadn’t even considered it. She’s grown steadily more selfish since the night everything had changed. It was another sign I’d lost my friend to being her food source.
She’d stopped caring for me, her attitude growing increasingly cold even as my need to reclaim the old Esmé and our friendship grew. I craved our old attachment, and I wanted reassurance that I was something more than a handy fresh blood supply.
Of course, some of our friendship had faded when she and Sean got serious, when she’d started calling him mate, but she’d still had time for me, still hung out with me, still laughed with me.
That Esmé no longer existed.
I’d just started to relax, my breathing steadying, warmth returning to my body when the front door burst open and rebounded off the dry wall. Or nearly rebounded. It pulled a huge chunk of the wall away with it, leaving a gaping hole.
Esmé stumbled through the doorway. “Hellooo, Sham.” Her words were slurred, and blood dripped from the tips of her elongated fangs and down her chin.
I would have rolled my eyes at the caricature she presented, but every one of my movements was frozen as I watched her.
She must have attacked some guy or girl in the quarter — maybe many someones — because the only way she could have gotten drunk like this was to have fed on alcohol-laced blood. And this was a very drunk Esmé indeed.
She wobbled farther into the room, shoving the door closed with all her vampire strength behind the movement. The house shook as the door slammed into the frame.
I lifted my chin, determined not to show her my fear. When she was like this, it felt like anything could trigger a feeding frenzy. “Why are you so drunk?”
She shrugged and cackled out a laugh. “Because we’re both toast.”
I flinched a little. She never openly admitted my status as a dead man walking.
“How do you mean?” I almost challenged her to admit my fate now.
But she threw herself dramatically into a chair.
“We’re both going to die for shiding with the Dupontsh.
There’s no way we can shurvive letting a traitor into the organization.
Brock will find out. He’ll know. He’ll read me.
Shomething.” She stopped talking, her voice cutting out abruptly as she focused on a fly crawling up the wall opposite where she sat.
I sat quietly for a moment, unpicking Esmé’s words from the slurred syllables. I’d been aware that her activities worked directly against Brock, but I didn’t know she feared discovery. That wasn’t the kind of thing she usually confided in me, so I’d learned not to question it.
The person I’d been most worried about was Kyle, in case he didn’t know what he was taking on. Not Esmé. I’d assumed she could protect herself. But her assertion that I was also toast? I could barely bring myself to care. I was dying one way or another, anyway.
Still, my mouth engaged before my brain did as I considered what she’d just said.
“Why did you agree to getting Kyle a position on the inside then?” I cringed inwardly, hoping she wouldn’t notice the belligerence in my tone — or if she did notice it that she mistook it for curiosity.
I never questioned her decisions, not since we’d become less than friends anyway, and I wasn’t sure why I was doing it now… Except I didn’t have a whole hell of a lot left to lose.
Maybe my visit to Mom had made me resentful. I’d already lost so much, and now I could see my entire life slipping away.
Esmé barked out her strange laugh again, and it sounded like metal scraping against metal. “To put us both out of this misery.” She closed her eyes suddenly like she’d slipped into an instant sleep before blinking them open again and focusing intently on me for a moment.
I started to recoil, but she stood, the movement lacking her usual grace but almost blurring with speed. She reached out like she might grab me before she swayed and turned the involuntary movement into a wide spin as she staggered off toward her wing.
I sat still, expecting her to remember that she’d forgotten to feed from me. But maybe I’d gotten lucky. Maybe she’d sated herself at the same time as getting drunk.
Only part of me didn’t feel lucky. Part of me felt disappointed… cheated of my high.
Esmé’s key scraped around the lock on her door before the lock mechanism finally snapped open and the door slammed to signal she’d passed through it.
I breathed a sigh, and it was mostly relief.