Chapter 24 - Marella
Iwas so incredibly fucked.
I tossed and turned in my bed for the rest of the night, unable to erase the feeling of his lips against mine, and unable to counteract the guilt that was eating away at my soul.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I was supposed to make him fall in love with me. But that clearly hadn't happened, because my teeth were still pointed and my throat still stung with the need to drink blood, and no matter how many glasses of water I sucked down, it wouldn't go away.
And there was something else there.
Something, in the pit of my stomach, that I knew wouldn’t disappear with water or blood or vengeance or violence.
It was a soft, dangerous little thing, and no matter how hard I tried to shove it down, all it did was grow and grow and grow.
And the worst part was, I knew that it was feeding her. The more this needy little piece of me consumed, the stronger she became. And the more I tried to quell its presence, the more insistent it became.
I drew myself a bath in the deep basin and crawled inside. The water was freezing cold, but that was how I liked it. It reminded me of the sea.
When I slid beneath the surface, I held my breath for as long as physically possible, keeping my eyes open and staring at the swirling, blurring ceiling above me. When I closed them, I saw his face painted across my eyelids.
And when I opened them again, the image was burned into my retinas.
He was everywhere, even when he was nowhere to be found.
I stayed that way for so long that the edges of my vision started turning black. When my lungs began to scream for air, I pushed myself up, splashing water all over the floor of the bathroom.
Once, I could have stayed in the water forever.
I wrapped my arms around my legs and pulled them against my chest, pressing my eyes into my knees.
Once, I could have breathed the water as easily as I breathed air.
I could have disappeared into the depths and swum until the pressure of water crushed any other feeling.
Those days were gone.
And I was increasingly doubting my ability to get them back.
I was standing outside the front door when Garrett appeared. It was better if we weren’t alone together. It was late—after midnight—and the shadows were dark.
Already, I felt a nervous tension rising in my chest as he approached. Again, he had chosen to forego the Fratelli uniform, this time wearing dark jeans and a black shirt. The contrast against the golden locks of his blond hair was stark.
I ran my tongue over my teeth, just to feel the stab of my canines.
His face was guarded. He didn’t smile, but I could see the questions hiding behind his blue eyes, see the way his fingers moved beneath the denim of his pants pockets.
Inside my own jacket pockets, my fingernails were digging tiny crescents into the skin on my palms.
Before he made it all the way to the door, I strode forward and inclined my head for him to follow, which he did without question.
As we walked, I did my best to ensure that I was always a step ahead of him. At no point did I want us close enough to touch. Unfortunately, this didn’t seem to matter much; I felt his presence as tangibly as if we were pressed together.
And it drove me crazy.
When the world was this dark, this still, the streets were dangerous. I was wearing the red dress, an item that was slowly becoming the most valuable thing I’d ever stolen, and I’d pulled the neckline down extra low. I let my hips sway more than usual as I walked.
This was how I worked. I was a worm on a hook, and the monsters stalking the late-night streets were my fish.
I smiled privately at the irony.
But after an hour scanning the streets, hyper-aware of Garrett beside me at every turn, I hadn’t drawn any of the attention I was used to. I couldn’t hear footsteps tracking me down the alleys, nor could I sense eyes watching me from any of the many dark corners we passed.
"I think you’re scaring away our prey," I said, frowning as we turned onto yet another near-empty street.
The sudden sound of my voice seemed to startle him. When I turned on my heel so that we were face-to-face, he nearly jumped.
"What?" His face wrinkled.
I gestured at him. "You," I repeated. "You’re a man. No one will bother me with you here."
He frowned. "That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that framed as a negative thing."
"Do you want to go another night without blood?"
His throat bobbed. I knew what he was feeling. I felt it too. But I was used to the sensation. Every month, I woke up with the familiar itch crawling up my neck.
But I remembered the first few nights. The pain. The unrelenting need to devour something to make it stop.
I tried to keep my voice gentle. "Let’s split up." He immediately opened his mouth to protest, so I continued quickly. "You don’t have to go far. Just keep yourself out of sight until I attract the… right sort of attention." I winked. "Then you can come save the day."
He snorted. "Like you need it."
I couldn’t stop the wicked smile that split my face. "No," I said. "But you will."
"What—" he began, but I cut him off by turning away.
"See you soon!" I waved at him as I walked, feeling his eyes on me until I turned a corner and disappeared into the maze of the city.
Just as I thought, it was quick work to find someone once Garrett was out of my way.
I saw him as I walked down a long, unlit street in the University District.
He was leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette, and he openly eyed me up and down as I passed him.
I let myself make quick eye contact, then diverted my gaze, staring at the ground and trying my best to look like a frightened little rabbit.
They loved it when I looked frightened.
I stopped at the entrance to an even darker alley lined with trash cans and construction tape. I looked around like I was lost, furrowing my brow and spinning in place.
Sure enough, he followed, hands in his pockets, the glow of his cigarette the clearest indication that he was getting closer.
I knew the darkness would hide my smirk as I lowered my head and stepped into the alley. It only took a few seconds before I heard his footsteps behind me, echoing off the stones.
About halfway down the alley, I stopped walking, moving my head back and forth again, still feigning fear and ignorance.
Those slow, meticulous footsteps got closer.
Finally, I turned around, eyes wide, pretending like I was about to head back towards the main road.
And he was there. I didn’t quite bump into him, but he was close enough that I was almost startled.
Almost.
Still, I let myself scream, just a little, to show my surprise. I faked a stumble backwards, letting him reach out and catch me with rough, calloused hands.
"Whoa there," he said, voice slightly muffled by the cigarette between his lips. He spoke to me in English, clearly believing me a tourist, but his voice was heavily accented. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you."
Didn’t you though?
I opened my eyes as wide as they would go, pupils darting in every direction. "It’s okay," I said in a squeak. "Thank you." I reached up and tried to pull his fingers away.
He didn’t let go. "You’re not lost, are you?" His voice was gentle. He would almost seem friendly if it weren’t for the underlying excitement evident in every word.
"Oh, no," I answered in that same, frightened little voice. "Just meeting some friends."
Where was Garrett? I hadn’t thought he was far enough away to lose me, but I also hadn’t heard his footsteps follow us down the alley.
A slimy smile split the man’s face, and he used his tongue to slide the cigarette from one corner of his mouth to the other.
"Oh really?" he asked. "I haven’t seen anyone else around here. Not for a while."
My heart was beating faster for real now, but not because I was scared. No. The more of his predatory intent he revealed, the more I felt the exhilaration rising in my chest.
I didn’t need Garrett. I’d done this a thousand times before. He could have my leftovers.
"They’re definitely here." I let my voice betray the lie. "I just missed the turn—"
"Sssshhhhhhh." He took a step towards me. His left hand maintained a strong grip on the top of my arm, while his right slid slowly downward. I let him walk me backwards one step, and then another, until he’d pushed me even further into the shadows.
Good boy, I thought.
"There’s no need to lie," he said softly, bringing his nose down to brush against my cheek. I could feel the heat from the cigarette on my neck. "Maybe fate brought us together tonight."
Just as I began to raise my hand to grab his throat, something hooked my arms from behind, pulling them together with enough force to make me cry out in pain as it felt like my shoulders would rip from their sockets.
A hand covered my mouth.
There were two of them. How had I missed the second person?
I was strong. I could easily take on several men at once. I’d done it before. But even I wasn’t immune to the element of surprise, and I couldn’t stop the muffled scream that tore at my throat as the second man dragged me backwards.
Shit.
I kicked my feet out as he pulled me backwards. I felt myself make contact with the first man, who swore as he got closer. He pulled something shiny from his pocket. It was clasped in his hand as he threw a punch that landed on the side of my face.
I saw stars.
"Fucking bitch," the man now holding me grunted as he pulled my arms closer together behind my back.
Bracing myself against the pain, I pulled my head forward and slammed it back. I connected with something solid and soft that crunched beneath the blow, and the man dropped me, crying out in pain.
As he fell to the ground, clasping his nose and whimpering in pain, I turned my attention to the first man.
He was holding a knife—why did they all have knives?
—and he stood with his arms and legs spread, like he was ready for a fight.
His cigarette had fallen from his mouth, and was now just a glimmering ember on the street beneath us.
"Puttana di merda," he mumbled under his breath as he lunged for me.
I was ready for him this time. I snarled as he approached, revealing my teeth, and I reveled in the fear that shot through his expression. He knew he didn’t have enough time to slow down before crashing into me.
But the impact never came.
As quickly as he surged forward, he fell back, grasping the collar of his shirt as it tightened around his windpipe.
Behind him was Garrett, eyes blazing, with a terrifying look painted across his face. He pulled the man’s head back until his entire throat was exposed to the night air.
"That was impolite," Garrett whispered in a voice more deadly than any I’d ever heard from him. His hands wrapped around either side of the man’s head. "I think you should apologize."
The man squeaked. But before he had a chance to say anything, there was a loud crack as Garrett twisted, and the man fell to the ground in a still pile.
Behind me, I heard a shuffling sound as the second man scrambled and tried to run away. He was fat and slow, and it took barely any effort to catch him and pull his jugular from his throat.
Face still stinging from the punch, I shot Garrett an amused smile as I bent over the fat man and lifted his head by his thin tufts of hair. "What took you so long?" I asked, letting my teeth sink into the soft flesh of his neck. The blood was still warm.
I took a few deep swallows, feeling the sore parts of my body relax as it filled me up.
Garrett didn’t answer.
After a few seconds, I paused my drinking to look up at him.
His face was nearly lost in the shadows from this angle, but he stood stock-still, staring down at the man crumpled at his feet.
I could hear his breath coming in short, terrified little gasps.
"Garrett?" I said hesitantly, slowly lowering my meal to the ground.
Again, he didn’t answer. But his breaths grew louder and louder.
"Garrett," I repeated, standing and walking towards him, taking care to step over the dead men as I approached. When I was close enough, I reached out a hand and gently touched his arm, just above his elbow.
Finally, his eyes moved. They shot from the body to my fingers, and they looked…feral.
"I just killed someone," he whispered. "I just killed a person."
It was like all the rage had left him in a sudden rush.
"It’s okay," I tried to say, but he ripped his arm away from me. "Garrett," I said, more firmly, "if you hadn’t stopped him, they would have hurt me."
Those wild eyes found mine in the dark and they held on for dear life.
I clasped my hands on either side of his face. "You saved me," I said, as forcefully as I could. It wasn’t entirely true—I had already freed myself and would have probably been able to fight them off by the time he’d arrived…
But he needed to think otherwise.
"I… saved you," he repeated, voice shaking.
I nodded ferociously. "Yes," I said. "And you probably saved a hundred other women from them as well."
His gaze fell from me down to the man again.
"He was a bad man, Garrett," I continued. "He was more of a monster than you or I could ever be."
His throat dipped.
"He was a bad man," Garrett repeated.
I pulled his face towards mine, so that he was forced to look at me once more. His blue eyes were still wide and frightened. "I need you to drink from him now, Garrett," I said, as calmly as I could manage.
He started to shake his head, but I tightened my grip on his face. "No, Garrett, listen to me. You need to feed. If you don’t, you’ll just get thirstier and thirstier, until you can’t control it."
He looked like he was about to cry, and I almost choked on my own words.
"And if you lose control, you could end up hurting someone else—someone innocent," I emphasized the last word heavily. "Do you want to hurt someone innocent?"
Slowly, he shook his head.
"Good," I said, releasing my hold on him. I gestured down at the man beneath us. "Now, drink."
He held my gaze for another couple of seconds, just long enough that I could see the brokenhearted resignation written across his face.
Then, he did as I told him to do, and I returned to the fat man behind me.
His blood tasted less sweet as I bent over and sucked him dry.