Chapter Seventeen
Dusk came too soon. Of all the days Theo wished would end, desperate for the sun to set offering his freedom, this was not one of them.
Every door between him and Verity stood open as he listened to her gentle snores and the steady beat of her heart while he dressed for work. His quick shower did little to improve his appearance.
He looked like death. He looked like a man who had been up all day holding his girlfriend’s hair back as her stomach clenched on nothing. Over and over, she dry heaved, her body trying to rid itself of whatever she’d drank, until finally she lay in his arms, trembling with soft cries and whimpers.
Theo breathed deep, tamping down the growl building in his chest. Phoenar save whoever had done this to her.
Two minutes. He took his eyes off her for two fucking minutes to bid Smythe farewell when that Adam ran over, reeking of alcohol and panic. Smythe insisted she’d be okay, she just needed to sleep it off. But someone had spiked her drink, and when he got his hands on them…
Deep breaths. A quick temper didn’t help anyone.
Neither did being hungry, and Theo was starving.
He’d planned on feeding at the club, but he’d have to wait until Verity was up to it.
That, or ask for an emergency donor at the exchange, but that didn’t feel right.
Despite caring about Verity’s wellbeing, their relationship was for show, and it would send the wrong message if he needed additional donations.
Sheets rustled as she moved in the spare room before settling again.
Theo couldn’t leave her like this. The worst had long passed but he didn’t want her alone.
Flicking through his contacts, he found Elliott.
Theo had always liked Marcy, and luckily Verity liked her too.
He was about to call to see if she could come sit with her when another phone rang.
Verity’s heart rate spiked as she bolted awake and scrambled for her phone.
“Hello?” she asked, quiet and rough, followed by a cough.
Theo should have taken her phone. She needed rest. Who was calling her at this time?
“Holy mother of fuck!” A crash as she tumbled onto the floor and ran for the door. “I’m so sorry Cora, I’ll be right there!”
Theo stood cross-armed in the doorway as Verity hung up the phone and froze at the sight of him.
“Not a chance,” he said. “Back to bed, now.”
“Theo, I don’t have time for this…”
“Someone spiked your drink last night, you need rest.” He pointed back into the room. Theo didn’t need to listen to her heart as her brows rose in challenge. Demanding was not the right approach. “Please,” he added.
“I’m late for work…”
“Work? You are a donor, Verity. You have a job. Why do you need more work?”
“I’m helping Cora, Theo, you know that,” she moved to the side, and Theo mirrored her, blocking her path.
“She can survive one day without you. You’re not well,” he insisted.
“I’m fine, and if you think you can boss me around like that Dr Smythe you’ve got another thing coming. Now move.” She tried to push past but Theo stood his ground.
“Verity…”
“Theodor!” she snapped with enough venom to make him flinched.
The black smudges beneath her bloodshot glare made her face seem even paler.
Washing the ruined makeup from her face hadn’t been easy but it seemed to soothe her.
The little sighs she made every time he swiped the cloth over her salty skin were as intoxicating as they were heartbreaking.
She should be mad at him. This was his fault; he was supposed to take care of her. To protect her.
“Just,” he started, eyes trailing to the floor. “Just tell me what you remember. I need to know what happened, then I’ll drive you home.”
Verity’s arms wrapped around herself as she shrugged. “I don’t know. I was fine one minute, then…”
“You were drinking champagne…” Theo prompted. A half-full glass sat in front of her when he arrived and no way had she nursed her drink for that long.
“Err… yeah. Sienna brought it. She had a glass too, though.”
“You know her?”
“Yeah, she’s Harris‘ donor.”
Nothing could calm the growl blooming in his chest. Harris’s donor drugged Verity. Making his life hell at work was one thing but this…
“Theo?” Verity asked, and he swallowed a snarl before going on.
“Did she do anything? Say anything?”
Verity watched him, brow furrowed, before massaging her temples. He should have found her some painkillers.
“I don’t know… I… you think she…” She looked down, biting her lip. “She asked about you, about us. Wanting to know if you talked to me about work. She said that donor numbers were down.”
That fucking psycho. Theo was going to kill him. How dare he drag Verity into his conspiracies.
“What did she mean?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he said, turning to find his jacket and keys.
“Theo?”
“It’s nothing. He’s got the idea into his head that the exchange doesn’t have enough donors, but he’s got no proof. It’s make-believe.”
“But why is he saying it then? Why drug me for information?”
“I don’t know,” he grunted. “But I’ll fucking find out.”
He gave Verity a pair of socks when they couldn’t find her shoes and she refused to be carried.
Making their way down the service stairs he’d carried her up from the car park, he watched her like a hawk.
Every few steps she swayed, clinging to the railing while he kicked stones off the metal stairs to save her feet.
The drive to her house was silent. He wanted to reach out, take her hand in his and promise he’d fix this, but why would she believe him? The damage was done. He took her into that den of vipers and abandoned her when she needed him.
It took less than ten minutes for her to wash and dress before she was back in the car, and they were on their way to her friend’s café. He understood why she insisted on going in and helping Cora. That didn’t mean that he liked it.
“Call me if you need anything,” he said, pulling up at the end of the street. “I mean it. If that woman tries to contact, you…”
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted.
“Just call me,” he begged.
“I will.”
With one last grimace she got out and rushed up the road to the café.
The drive into work was short, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he parked. Breathing wasn’t exactly necessary for a vampire, but he tried. Tried to breathe through the rage that flowed through his veins but it was no use.
Marching through the building, Theo was aware of Stella calling him as he passed his office.
“Theo? Sir? Your eight o’clock…”
He didn’t care. They could wait.
Harris’s office sat at the end of the corridor. The plaque on his door read "Director of the Vital Exchange". More like conspiracy theorist.
The door crashed against the wall, plaster cracking, as Theo burst into the room. A small office compared to Theo’s but just as grand with a large mahogany desk and a scowling vampire sitting behind it.
“Chapel…” Harris started but there wasn’t time for another word as Theo’s fist connected with his jaw. The chair tipped back but Theo was on him before Harris’s head hit the floor. Throwing another punch that split his lip, Theo knelt on his chest and grabbed his collar.
“You go anywhere near Verity again, I’ll fucking kill you!” Theo roared in the other vampire’s face and Harris had the good sense to look shaken.
“Theo, I don’t know what…”
“You don’t know?” he shouted. “You don’t know that your bitch donor drugged Verity?”
Harris’s hand pushed on Theo’s chest, trying to escape the near feral vampire looming over him.
“Sienna would never…”
Theo punched him again, feeling the crack of bone beneath his fist. The punch would have killed a human, but sadly Harris would be fine.
Theo stood, raking shaking hands through his hair before pausing.
His knuckles were split. Taking Harris’s jacket from the back of the door, he wiped the blood from his hand.
“It isn’t Sienna’s fault if your little donor can’t handle her drink.”
Theo froze. Turning slowly, he watched Harris climb back to his feet, holding his jaw.
Theo raised a finger, ready to damn the other man. A symbolic gesture perhaps, but one that any vampire would take seriously. A point and a promise were enough to strike fear into even the coldest of hearts.
“Sienna wouldn’t!” Harris snapped.
“We’re done. You stay away from me, and you stay the fuck away from Verity.”
He turned to leave when Harris spoke again, not knowing when to stop. “Why are you really mad, Chapel? Because Verity got sick, or because Sienna told her the truth?”
“It isn’t the fucking truth!” Theo screamed, charging forward until the desk was all that stood between them.
Harris shrugged with forced nonchalance. “We’ll see. Maybe you won’t listen to me, but I can’t imagine that little reporter of yours will let it go so easy. Maybe you’ll listen to her.”
“You don’t… have proof,” he ground out through gritted teeth.
Harris pulled his chair up and sat down heavy, licking the blood from his already healing lip. “We’ll see,” he said again, turning to his computer and pretending Theo didn’t exist.
He didn’t have proof. He didn’t have sources or evidence. Nothing.
Theo turned, marching down the corridor, past a wide-eyed Stella and into his office. Whoever his eight o’clock had been seemed to have left, so he sat at his desk.
How could Harris be so sure? Sure, enough to risk his donor. Sure, enough to take a beating without throwing a single punch in return.
Sliding open the bottom drawer of his desk, Theo found the “report” Harris had given him.
Donor numbers, email correspondents, projections. And at the back, newspaper articles from Cliffhaven, from the weeks leading up to the quarantine.
He called through to Stella. “Cancel my meetings for the rest of the evening.” He didn’t wait for a reply before finding a bottle of whiskey, pouring himself a drink and reading.