Chapter Thirty-Two
It was a full day before Theo found the ability to speak.
A day of whispering sweet nothings to keep him calm while he fed.
One whole day of being pumped with blood only to act as a human filter, ridding it of preservatives and anti-caking agents, and warming it to a drinkable temperature to be sucked back out again by a ravenous vampire.
Tony, the nurse, had explained it all to her, chattering away to drown out Theo’s possessive growling while he monitored her vitals and plied her with, not only blood but, also cold drinks and hot meals.
He was around so much Verity wondered if he actually had any other patients, or if Theo was getting special treatment.
After the very first feed, once his stomach was full and eyes heavy, Dr Smythe had changed his dressings.
He wheeled her outside, offering the drowsy vampire privacy even if he didn’t understand, and when she returned every drop of blood had been cleaned up, as if he hadn’t been bleeding out mere hours ago.
Feed after feed his colour improved, still pale but losing the deathlike grey sheen. The whites returned to his eyes too, until he finally opened them with hungry grey irises and asked in a raw croak, “Verity?”
Verity jumped from her cat-nap under the blankets Tony had given her, turning to find him staring wide-eyed at her IVs.
“Are you okay?” he asked, trying to get up before groaning in pain and realising he was cuffed to the bed. Dr Smythe had stressed not to release him until he started talking.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” she said, pulling the IV pole closer so she could reach over for the cuffs. “How are you feeling? Are you hungry?”
The question was redundant. The way he stared at her neck when she leant over to unbuckle his other hand told her exactly how hungry he was. But instead of admitting it he asked, “You reported me?”
“No,” she said, recoiling at the hurt in his eyes before pulling his arm around her so that she could slide closer, turning his face to her when he frowned in confusion. “No, I didn’t. I got a letter saying you reported me. You called Cora, remember?”
He watched her lips as she spoke, brow creased. “I… I wasn’t… too much.”
Too much? Her heart ached for him. Verity had thought Theo was bored of her, but Theo thought that he had been more than she could handle and scared her off. When she found out who sent those letters, Verity would have some choice words to say.
“No, love,” she said, kissing his cheek as he breathed her in with deep reverence. “You could never be too much for me.” He arched an eyebrow as if to ask if that was a challenge and Verity smirked. “Do you remember what happened?” she asked, sobering them both. “Why were you walking?”
He rested his head back in the pillow as he thought, eyes searching the room before landing on the door. “Have the police been?” he asked.
“No, I can call them, tell them you’re awake…”
“No,” he cut in. “There’s no point. I don’t remember…”
His eyes took on a steeliness that spoke a thousand words. He did remember, and he didn’t trust the police.
Less than a night later, Theo was discharged.
He hadn’t spoken much, only fed, far gentler and slower than in his feral state, and fussed over Verity.
The first desperate feed had left thick scars on her wrist that he stroked whenever he wasn’t drinking.
His guilt painted every caress, but Verity didn’t care about the marks.
Theo was safe, and that was the only thing that mattered.
Dr Smythe insisted on driving them to Theo’s apartment himself, leaving them outside the building with a bag of medication for Verity and a promise that he’d return after work the next day to check on her.
He didn’t seem worried about Theo anymore, only wanting to make sure Verity was all right.
The guy was cold and stuck up and stricter than a headmaster, but he really did seem to care about his patients.
“Lord Chapel!” the porter cried, jumping from his chair and rushing over to them as they stepped through the door.
Verity had seen him a few times, watching the comings and goings of the building from behind his desk with a straight face and a nod.
“I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. How are you? ”
“I’m fine,” Theo told him, though his grey eyes and hunched shoulders said otherwise. “I don’t suppose you have a spare key. The hospital…”
“Of course, sir.”
He walked them up the stairs, chattering about what Verity assumed was a mutual friend, as if he needed to fill the silence.
“He’s been a nightmare recently. You know what he’s like, though,” he rambled. “Just will not let it go. And I told not to worry about it. Just stay home, I said. If you’re gonna get peace, it’s there. You know what I mean?”
Pausing at Theo’s door, the porter turned to him with a look that didn’t match his gossiping. Theo nodded and the man winked, pulling out a ring of keys and opening the door.
“You rest up, sir, and give me a bell if you need anything.”
“Will do, thank you,” Theo said, stepping inside with his hand in Verity’s.
“Miss Harper,” he said, nodding to her before turning on his heel and heading down the corridor.
Verity waited until his footsteps retreated before asking Theo, “What was that?”
“My brother’s getting on at him,” he said, pulling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head. “He’s saying he’ll keep an eye on us, and the apartment isn’t bugged.”
“Should it be?” Verity pulled back to look at him.
Gods, he looked exhausted. Dr Smythe might be more worried about Verity now, but Theo was still far from his best. Tending to him had been difficult before he started talking, and everything had moved so quickly since that he hadn’t even had a chance to shower.
Dried blood crusted along his hairline, under his nails.
The clothes they’d dressed him in looked crumpled and uncomfortable, with a smear of blood on the hem of his shirt.
“Why don’t you go get a shower,” she told him. “I’ll find us something to eat. Then we can talk.”
He nodded, giving her hand one last squeeze before trudging to his room.
Exhaustion nipped at her as she headed for the spare room to find clean clothes.
The mirror above the dresser showed her to look just as bad as Theo, pale and grubby from being cooped up in the hospital the last couple of days.
She wondered if it was the lack of sleep or the weakness of every muscle in her body that made her mind glaze over the situation she now found herself in.
The fake letters, the attack, seeing Theo on the edge of starvation. It was all too much, and her brain had decided to just forget about it all, leaving a dull, empty feeling in its wake.
She needed sleep.
After a shower of her own, Verity found Theo in the kitchen, having taken on the task of microwaving a meal himself.
The temptation to tease him was fleeting.
She knew that he didn’t technically have to eat, but having something other than blood in his stomach would help stifle the hunger she was unable to satisfy.
Plus, she needed to eat, and Theo would worry if he thought she was going without.
Theo was texting while they ate, she would have called him rude, but after being dead to the world the last few days, she supposed he might have some catching up to do.
When he handed her the phone, she realised it wasn’t his normal one.
“Your mum’s number is on there if you want to call her,” he said. “Don’t use your phone.”
She bit back the urge to ask questions while he ate.
He thought her phone was bugged? It had died the night before at the hospital and was still off, charging in the spare room, so she supposed it was no danger at the minute.
“Debora Harper (Verity’s mother)” was one of the few contracts in the phone.
“How?” she asked.
“Your emergency contact at the Exchange.”
With a nod she typed out a quick message, saying that she was staying with a friend and had lost her phone. When she moved to collect the bowls, Theo took her hand.
“Leave them,” he said. “You need bed.”
She didn’t argue as he led her down the corridor to his room, pausing with his hand on the handle.
“If you’d rather I…” she gestured to the spare room.
“No,” he said, opening the door and guiding her inside.
Lamps on the twin nightstands cast soft orange light across the room, giving the grand furnishings a warm, fuzzy glow. Much like the rest of his home, paintings and trinkets dotted the space, making it feel more lived in than the antique decor would normally suggest.
“Do you have a preferred side?” Theo asked, watching her from the corner of his eye.
Verity shook her head before crawling into the nearest side of the biggest bed she’d ever seen. Fuck king size, this thing was huge. She wriggled into the middle, meeting Theo there and wrapping her limbs round his, far too tired to feel awkward.
They nestled into each other, Verity pressing her face to his chest as Theo buried his in her damp hair. It was all she could think to want. To hold him and be held. It was everything.
Well, almost everything.
She didn’t want to break the spell, but she had to know.
“What’s going on?” she whispered.
Theo sighed, pulling back enough to lean over her, watching as he spoke. “I think I know something that I’m not supposed to.”
“And what’s that?”
“There is no flu in Cliffhaven. The Exchange collapsed.”
Her mind moved slowly, struggling to understand what he was saying.
“My brother called to tell me. I think… with the records being falsified and…”
“It’s happening here,” Verity said, horror in the pit of her stomach. “I’ve been looking at old articles. Everything that happened in the weeks running up to the quarantine, is happening here.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, I searched it and…” she paused. “You think my phone was bugged?”
“I was trying to call you all night,” he said, brows drawn.
She nodded. “I was trying to call you.”
Somehow, despite the bombshell he’d just dropped, Theo smiled, settling beside her.
“If there’s something to be happy about, I think I missed it,” Verity said, frowning at him.
“Whatever’s happening, whoever’s doing this, they’re so scared of us being together that they tried to force us apart. We must make quite the team.”
Rolling her eyes, Verity grinned. She supposed that it was true.
“We need a plan,” he said. “We need to work out who we can trust and how we can stop this but before that, we need sleep.”
She didn’t want to agree, but she knew he was right. Verity was no use to anyone feeling like death warmed up.
“Theo?” she asked, looking up at him from the crook of his arm.
He hummed in answer, eyes closed, pulse slowing beneath her cheek.
“Nothing,” she whispered, kissing him one last time before settling to sleep. “It can wait.”