Chapter 17 – Cassini
CASSINI
“It’s not enough,” I say.
The thought hits me the moment I see what Lily’s brought back—one blood bag wrapped in my leather jacket, the plastic partially shredded, the liquid already coagulating. She sets it on the concrete floor beside the couch with the careful reverence of someone presenting a priceless artifact.
“Cass, I’m so sorry. The cooler got thrown around in the back while you were driving,” she explains, her voice tight with worry. “This was all that survived the journey.”
I want to tell her it’s fine, that I’m grateful, that any blood is better than none. But the burns are spreading across my chest now, creeping inward like acid eating through my skin. The single bag might buy me some time and begin the process, but it won’t heal me.
I try to keep the anger out of my voice. I’m not mad at her, but I’m furious about the situation, and my words are laced with bitterness.
“Cazzate,” I mutter, clenching my teeth to bite back a fresh wave of agony. My exposed skin looks like cracked leather, blackened at the edges. Each time I shift my weight a puff of steam releases from my clothes. I lay my blistered hands across my chest and take a few steady breaths.
Her eyes get glassy, and her posture stiffens as she paces back and forth in front of me in her cute pink pajamas.
Her ass is great, and if I wasn’t a dying man, I’d be paying more attention to how the lines of the soft fabric hug the curves of her body.
Only this woman could look sexy in a pair of fluffy slippers.
If it’s the last thing I ever see, I’ll enter the afterlife a happy man.
Her words tumble into each other as she’s walking, the momentum of them matching the nervous energy humming through her body.
“I know. This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have reached out to you last night.
I didn’t expect you to come, or that all of this would happen.
I just couldn’t deal after what Pat told me, and I needed a friend who’d understand—”
I wave my scorched hand for her to stop. “Lily, I’m sorry. You don’t have to feel guilty about this. I knew the risks when I got behind that wheel with dawn approaching. I made the choice. I’m just pissed that I have to clean up the mess in the car.”
I offer a wry smile. She attempts to return it, but it’s fake.
A creaking noise from upstairs makes us both stiffen. The rattle of floorboards shifting, and signs of life from above. Her eyes shoot up to the ceiling, and she backs toward the door with her finger pressed to her lips, indicating I should shut up.
“Pat’s awake,” she whispers. “I gotta go, but I’ll come back down as soon as he’s gone to work.”
She leans against the door and presses her ear against it, listening for his footsteps. When they fade, she points to the bag on the floor and lowers her voice so much that only a vampire could hear it. “Make sure you drink that. All of it. I’m serious.”
She shoots me a warning look, and then she’s gone, flipping the light switch behind her and plunging the basement into blissful darkness.
I finished up the last drops of blood an hour ago, and despite the indignity of drinking half-coagulated lumps from a synthetic pouch, it’s helping.
I’m just grateful Lily wasn’t here to see me licking the plastic clean like a hungry dog.
The excruciating burning inside me has already subsided. Now it’s merely searing.
My skin has stopped bubbling, and the row of vicious red blisters along my knuckles are healing, but there’s still a long way to go before I’m back to full strength.
Lily’s voice drifts to me through the darkness, filling my head with sunshine. At the sound of her, my body relaxes, and her words flow into me.
Cassini?
I’m here.
Pat’s leaving soon, and then I’ll come to you. I promise. Not long now. We’ll have the place to ourselves. He’s got a gig after work tonight.
I’ll be here.
I’ve been thinking about our blood problem. Can it be any blood? Like, animal blood?
Normally, yes…but damage like this, from the sun, is different. The blood has to be human.
She’s quiet.
Lily?
The connection between us severs abruptly, leaving me fumbling in the darkness for her.
Grasping at the ghost of her voice and wishing there was a way to summon her back.
Her gift is apparently growing stronger by the day, and soon I fear that there will be no way to stop her from accessing my thoughts at will.
The thought nauseates me. If that happens, I’ll no longer be able to hide the truth of who I am and all the terrible things I’ve done. Centuries of bloodshed and pain, flowing unfettered into the mind of someone who’s a thousand times better than any human I’ve ever known.
Around me, the house buzzes with life, and the sounds of Lily’s stepfather moving around and performing the familiar routine of domesticity drift down like echoes of a life that I’ll never experience.
A melodic tune whistles while a tea kettle heats on the stove, the sound of the tinny little speaker playing AC/DC and the warmth in his voice as he calls up to Lily, offering her breakfast.
When I register the sound of car keys jangling and pleasant goodbyes at the door, I ready myself for her arrival. Running my tender fingers through my hair to straighten it up and look presentable. It feels like a futile effort given half my face is covered in burns, but I have to at least try.
Lily arrives within seconds. Showered and dressed in a yellow polka dot summer dress and white sneakers.
“Hi,” I croak, but when she closes the door behind herself, she doesn’t say a word. She doesn’t respond to my weary greeting. She just kneels on the concrete floor next to my splayed body on the couch and looms down at me.
Her face goes white as she takes in the damage. Earlier the burns were contained to my hands and neck. Now they’ve spread across my chest, creeping inward like some malignant infection.
“Oh God,” she breathes, her hands hovering over me but not quite touching. “Cassini, you’re getting worse.”
I can see her mind working, processing. The single bag wasn’t enough—we both knew it wouldn’t be, but seeing the evidence written across my deteriorating body hits her all at once.
“The blood helped some,” I try to reassure her, “but—”
“But not enough.” Her voice is flat, clinical. She’s gone into nurse mode, assessing the situation with professional detachment even as I can see the fear flickering in her eyes.
She sits back on her heels, staring at the spreading damage, and I watch her reach some internal decision. When she looks up at me again, her expression has shifted from worry to determination.
Without a word, she pulls her soft golden hair away from her neck and tilts her face toward me.
“Drink from me.”
The words land in my chest like a punch I never saw coming. “No.”
“Cass—”
“Absolutely not.” I try to sit up and suppress a grimace when my burned skin pulls and tears. “Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do?”
“I’m asking you to stop being stubborn and let me help you.” She leans in so she’s inches from my mouth, and the scent of her—coconut, sunshine, and life itself—makes my fangs throb with desire.
“You need blood. I have blood. It’s not that complicated,” she points out.
“It’s very complicated.” My voice comes out ragged and desperate. “When vampires feed from humans, especially when we’re injured and starving like this, we don’t just take blood. We take everything—life force, innocence, sometimes pieces of their soul. And we don’t always know when to stop.”
Her chin lifts, and she glares at me with pure defiance. “So you’re saying you might hurt me.”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Without meaning to, without wanting to, but I could hurt you. I could even kill you.”
The confession tears out of me, and I squeeze my eyes shut to block out the sound of her racing heart.
She pulls away and sits on the edge of the couch, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from her skin.
“We have an unexplainable connection, Cassini. You know that, right? This isn’t normal.
You can hear my thoughts. I can hear yours.
Have you ever fed on someone you could connect to like that? ”
“No, but—”
She smiles. “Well, then you don’t know how it’ll be, do you? If you start taking too much from me, you’ll know for sure. You’ll hear me.”
“You don’t understand—”
“Oh, I understand.” Her voice is calm, certain. “You’re scared. You think your hunger will override everything else and turn you into a monster.”
“I am a monster.”
“No, you’re not.” She reaches out, carefully avoiding my burns, and strokes my face. “You won’t hurt me. I know you won’t.”
She leans closer, her forehead almost touching mine, and presses her lips against me, lighting a fire across the soft tissue of my mouth. Her tongue traces along my bottom lip, seeking entrance, and when I part my lips for her, she deepens the kiss. It becomes hungrier, more desperate.
She threads her fingers through my hair, mindful not to disturb the burned patches on my scalp, and pulls me closer until there’s no space left between us.
I can feel her pulse racing beneath my hands where they rest on her throat and can smell the intoxicating scent of her blood so close to the surface.
By instinct, my fangs extend, and I don’t stop them. She pulls back and cocks her head to the side with a satisfied smile, reaching a finger out to touch one and running it lightly along the point.
“Just one thing,” she murmurs, her brows knotted with concern. “This won’t make me…like…”
“Like me?” I say. “No, to make a vampire is a much more complicated thing. A bite alone will not turn you.”
“Good.” She sighs, delicately lifting my blistered hand and holding it against her chest, so I can feel her heart. It gallops steadily, and the rhythm of it threatens to drive me insane.
“Okay.” I swallow. “I’ll drink.”
“I trust you.” She tilts her head, exposing the elegant line of her neck, and in an instant, her skin becomes translucent. Every capillary glowing under the surface and calling to me like a siren song.
She closes her eyes, and I can feel her pulse speed up, but not with fear. With anticipation.
She sends me a message through the void: It’s okay. I’m okay.
I dart my tongue out to taste her skin, and my whole body relaxes. I angle my mouth and position the two sharp points of my teeth around a swelling vein. Her pulse quickens, and I feel it rush with blood whooshing beneath the surface.
When my fangs sink into her neck, she gasps—a sharp intake of breath that makes me freeze. But her hand comes up to thread through my hair, holding me to her.
The first taste of her blood hits my tongue, and nothing else matters. I’ve fed from hundreds of humans over the centuries, but nothing—absolutely nothing—has ever tasted like this.
Her blood is earthy and rich, like deep soil after rain, punctuated by bursts of sweetness like vineyard grapes ripened in the sun that make my entire being sing with recognition. It’s not just sustenance; it’s like drinking liquid starlight, like tasting the essence of life itself.
Just take what you need, her voice whispers through our connection.
With each swallow, I grow stronger. The burns across my chest begin to fade, new skin forming where the sun had destroyed it.
I close my eyes and listen to every beat of her heart, steady and strong, the rhythm becoming the center of my universe.
Her delicious nectar flows onto my tongue like the sweetest honey, healing parts of me I didn’t know were broken.
Fuck, she moans in pleasure. The sound of her voice punctuated my frenzy. Cass, it feels like you’re inside me.
I drink until I’m drowning in her, lost in the sensation of becoming whole again.
Her blood tastes like everything I’ve been searching for across five centuries of existence—home, peace, belonging.
I want to drink forever, to merge with her completely until there’s no distinction between where she ends and I begin.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear a whimper.
But then something changes. Her voice grows fainter, more distant.
Cassini…that’s…that’s enough…
The words are weak, fading, but still, I can’t stop. The taste of her is too intoxicating, too perfect. I need more. I need all of her.
Stop…
I hear the word somewhere in the distance and try to locate it, but all I see is a mist of red. Swirling and turbulent. All I can hear is the rush of blood pulsing through her veins, growing fainter and quieter. Her body twitches against me, but I barely register it.
Please…
It’s only when her body goes limp in my arms that I finally snap back to myself.
I jerk away from her neck, my fangs retracting, horror flooding through me as I look down at what I’ve done. Her eyes flutter closed, her skin pale as paper, and when I press my ear to her chest, her heartbeat is barely a whisper.
Her knuckles are white, her fingernails coated in blood from digging so deeply into my flesh that they’ve broken through to my skin. I hadn’t noticed her clawing at me.
“Lily?” My voice cracks. “Lily, can you hear me?”
Her head lolls against the couch cushions, and I run my thumb over the twin puncture wounds on her neck, still weeping blood.
Too much blood. Far too much.
I search her skin for answers, the warmth in her cheeks stolen by me, as I calculate how much blood I’ve taken from her.
A quart? More? A gallon? I took too much. It was all too much. If I hadn’t been so weak, I could have stopped myself. Could have controlled my pathetic urges better.
“Dio mio, what have I done?” I whisper, gathering her limp form against my chest.
I press my fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse I can already hear fading. I tenderly kiss her forehead with bloodstained lips, pressing my nose against her to inhale the scent of her scalp, but when I pull back, all I see is horror.
A bloody smear from my mouth seeping into her hairline.
“Lily, please. Please wake up.”