Chapter 17
Darkness ruled in the small, cramped box, but that didn’t prevent Tina from seeing the delicate movement behind Damon’s eyelids. With the edge of her sleeve she dabbed Damon’s face, pale with grey hues. Damon still hid his features behind a strange face despite his blood loss and despite the long wound on his forearm where Angelica had helped herself to a sample of Damon’s flesh, but maintaining the façade put additional strain on Damon’s body, making heat shimmer from its skin.
What had happened to Damon wasn’t her fault, she knew it wasn’t, but Angelica had used her to get Damon’s obedience and it made her feel guilty. She caressed the feverish skin and brushed away the short hair that stuck to Damon’s forehead and temples. “I’m sorry.”
Damon’s eyelids fluttered open and revealed red irises. His hand found Tina’s and squeezed it. “It’s not your fault.” His voice sounded tired and hoarse, as if his throat hurt.
She was tired, too, but she didn’t dare close her eyes and risk falling asleep. Somebody had to be on the lookout, and since before in the cage Damon had kept an eye on everything, it was now her turn. She caressed the side of his face before raising her hand and looking at her palm. She fisted it until the dark veins were clearly visible under the pale skin inside her arm. She didn’t really want to, but it was the least she could do. She offered her wrist to Damon. “You must be hungry.”
Something flashed in the red eyes and he wetted his lips. Then he grimaced and pushed her hand away. “If I start to feed on you, I won’t be able to stop.” He looked at the ceiling of the box and pressed the heel of his hand against the bridge of his nose. “I need Tristian, Irene... or one of my Ishaaas. Maybe even one of the Dumes would work.”
“You look horrible, you know. You need to feed. And don’t worry about me, I will just snatch my hand away after a while.” Tina shoved her wrist toward his face again.
“You... you have never seen a starving Bloodeater, have you? There’s nothing that comes between them and their food once they start feasting, especially not a weak girl like you.” He pushed her hand away again. “I’m one of the most powerful of the Lost Lords and your strength is similar to Akilueteers; if you think you will be able to stop me just because I feel a little tired, you are mistaken.”
“But I want to help and there doesn’t seem anything else that I can do.” Her hand dropped into her lap, beside Damon’s head.
Damon sighed. “Stop frowning. I won’t die. My body can take care of itself even with the loss of blood and without feeding, just a little slower. Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.”
“Every time you say that something happens and worsens our situation.” Tina gazed around the box in which Angelica had locked them after she finished with Damon. The wooden box was large enough that Damon could lay inside it with his knees bent and high enough that she could kneel without bending her neck, the ceiling of the box just an inch above the top of her head, with nail-sized holes at the lower, left side of it.
“We are free of Angelica, aren’t we? And there’s no threat of Shadows.” Damon turned and wrapped his arm around Tina’s waist.
“We don’t know that.” Just because Muriel had told her that Prva agreed to the swap and the box was now in a big, dark hall, with stone walls similar to those in Prva’s great hall -- she knew that because she had peeked through the holes -- that didn’t mean that they were free of Angelica or the Shadows. Who knew what that awful woman would do next?
“Stop whining already and give me some peace, so I can rest, please.” Damon nuzzled closer to Tina and closed his eyes.
He didn’t worry enough. She buried her fingers in his tousled hair. It made her wonder how he had survived until now with that careless attitude of his. Or maybe he was just trying to make her worry less. Probably. She sighed and with the back of her hand rubbed her forehead, grimacing at the odour of her T-shirt that floated to her nose. She stank and even her skin itched, which was actually nothing surprising after spending three days -- according to Muriel -- in the same clothes and not being able to wash properly. She really needed a bath, or at least a shower. And where was Muriel, anyway? His voice should be there, in her head, comforting her.
Something rattled and the box was lifted up. Tina lay down and with one arm around Damon’s shoulder and the other against the wall she tried to see what was going on through the holes, but she couldn’t see anything. She frowned, were they now being delivered to Prva? She hoped so; she wished for the whole ordeal to be over already. She was so sick of this Bloodeaters’ business -- thanks a lot, Damon. She glared at Damon, not that it did her any good, when he seemed to have already fallen asleep. The jerk.
A hushed buzzing sound told her that some kind of machine was moving the box forward. After some moments, weak beams of light found their way into the box and the box lowered. A few hushed words and then the box was opened.
The light for a moment blinded Tina, then a male body shaded it, two arms reaching for her.
Uriel. Tina’s mouth curved up on its own. “I’m...I’m so glad to see you.” She threw herself into Uriel’s embrace and, stuttering, started to explain what had happened to her, even though he already had to have learned the main parts from Muriel.
“You are all right now.” Uriel, kneeling, lifted her up and pulled her into his lap, while he caressed her back with comforting circular motions.
Tina’s explaining turned to babble. “I do hope you have something. Your shake. I want your shake.” Her fist crumpled the folds of Uriel’s black shirt. “I’m hungry.” She looked over her shoulder at the man, whom she had thought peacefully slept, but was actually glaring at them with his eyelids half-mast. She should probably mention his predicament. “Him, too. Angelica. Blood. So much of it...” She turned forward and leaned back so she could see Uriel’s face. “He’s hungry.” Her fangs dropped down. “Me, too.”
#
Tina leaned back on a comfortable white pillow on a brown couch and nursed the tumbler in her hands. Until the exchange, where she and Abbas would change ‘owners’, she and Damon got to use an apartment with a small living room, which only had a couch, a small coffee table and a closet with a stove, sink and refrigerator hiding behind its doors. A short hallway that opened on the left side of the living room led to a room only large enough to house two steel boxes, and the bathroom.
A satisfied sigh escaped Tina’s throat when she stretched her legs and lifted her glass to take another sip of Uriel’s concoction -- her second glass. The tepid liquid spilled over her tongue, and despite the foul taste, something inside her hummed in contentment. She had just showered, changed into clean clothes and filled her tummy. She glanced sideways at Damon who sat leaning on the pillows with Uriel’s wrist between his teeth.
A soft sound shifted her gaze to Uriel, who sat between her and Damon. Had he just moaned? No, she had to have heard wrong since Uriel’s wrinkled forehead and the downturned corners of his mouth didn’t betray one bit of enjoyment, and the expression he wore didn’t even come close to the bliss Tristian had displayed that time she had stumbled on Damon feeding. And here she was thinking that feeding was something... erm, pleasurable, at least when you were Lost’s food. But at least they weren’t glaring at each other anymore. What was with that? They were on the same side, had they forgotten? With those two one never knew. She shrugged her shoulders. Right now, life was good, she was clean, sated and comfortable, and she intended to thoroughly enjoy this rare moment of respite.
She drained her glass and put it on the floor beside the couch. She sank deeper into the pillows, pulled the olive-coloured fleece throw to her chin and closed her eyes.
“Don’t sleep,” Uriel said.
She sighed. Yes, she knew, Uriel wanted to talk with them. Not that they would be able to discuss anything they didn’t want Prva to hear; Uriel, after dragging Tina and Damon into the bathroom and opening the faucet, had told them that Prva had placed bugs all over the Underground. She thought that maybe Muriel could connect her with the Dumes, but what about Damon? They couldn’t exactly convey the whole conversation to him. Well, actually they could, under the protection of faucet noise.
“I’m not sleeping. I’m just resting.” And to prove it, she concentrated on Muriel’s image, not surprised when it came easily to her and it didn’t take any effort to maintain it. Muriel.
Hey, how are you?
At the moment, great. But you already know that, we just talked not too long ago.
Yeah.
Uriel said that we need to talk.
We are already talking.
Yes, it seems we are. Tina smiled. But I don’t think that was what Uriel had in mind.
No, Muriel said, the tone of his voice becoming dark and serious. Uriel’s afraid that something might go wrong with the exchange. You see, in Damon’s plan Angelica didn’t know what kind of trade we were making, but Uriel ‘coincidentally’ heard that Prva had to justify to Angelica why she wants you when she demanded that Angelica deliver you to her, and Angelica now knows that Prva is getting Abbas’s head.
So? Even if Angelica gets the head there’s not much that she could do with it. Tina tried to lighten the mood, even though Damon’s words about the Black Plague and Abbas’s power burdened her shoulders like a heavy weight.
She could use it to make Shadows. Do you know how strong a Shadow with even one percent of Abbas’s power would be? a voice intruded into the conversation.
Uriel? How is that I can hear you? Tina opened her eyes and looked past Damon at Uriel.
Muriel. He’s also trying to connect you and Haniel.
Oh, I see. That was quick. In the past when Muriel had trained her, they needed more time to connect. Tina smoothed the blanket. And did they need to bring Shadows up? Just the mention of them returned stiffness into her body and, even though just a moment ago she had been pleasantly sleepy, she suddenly felt wide awake. She resented that with just a few words they could take away her peace of mind. Couldn’t they give her just a little more time? Just one night? Or at least an hour? Another tired sigh. She shouldn’t complain; they were in this together, weren’t they?
What? Uriel asked, then sucked in his breath at something that Damon did. “That’s enough!” He shook Damon off his wrist.
Nothing, it’s just... There’s always something, and I’m so tired. And those -- a dark shiver ran up her spine -- Shadows scare me.
They are scary, aren’t they? And ugly too, a new, more cheerful voice than Uriel’s and Muriel’s joined in.
Haniel. A small smile stretched Tina’s lips. She had missed him, missed his positive attitude. Yeah, they are ugly.
Damon’s tongue darted out and licked a drop of blood in the corner of his mouth. He shifted closer to Tina.
“What are you doing?” Uriel pulled himself higher on the couch.
Damon rested his elbow on the couch’s back just above Tina and leaned over her, a dangerous glint flashed in his red eyes. “There’s something going on here and you are leaving me out of it. I don’t like it.”
“We can’t talk... You know?” Tina shifted sideways, away from Damon. She sat up, pulling the blanket with her and wrapping it around her torso. Something in Damon’s posture, the way he dominated the line of her vision and how his weight on the blanket prevented her from moving freely, made her uncomfortable.
“No, I don’t know.” Damon’s eyes flashed something dangerous, but then his expression changed and a smirk stretched his lips. “Explain it to me, please.”
Uriel wrapped his arm around Damon’s shoulders and pulled him backwards. He whispered something into his ear then he released him.
Muriel, is there any way we could include Damon in our conversation? Tina asked.
We have been trying to do that for some time now; I just don’t know how to do it under circumstances like these. I thought it could be done while Damon was feeding on Uriel, but it couldn’t, Muriel said. Maybe it could through you. We should try it. You should connect with him.
How am I supposed to do that? And are you even sure you could do that, connect us? Isn’t strengthening the links between you, your brothers and me, hard enough? You usually have problems with that.
Well...
Irene is helping him and he is feeding on her and Tristian, Haniel intruded. Their blood is stronger than Deadeaters and more potent. You should see him. Even though he sounds like his usual self, he looks like he’s on sugar rush, bouncing off the walls; he can’t stand still.
Tina tired to imagine that, but she couldn’t. So, what did you have in mind for me to do?
You are not going to like it.
What is it? Tina asked.
Bite him.
What? Tina’s eyes widened. Bite him, as in bite him? No, he couldn’t mean that.
Bite him, Muriel repeated.
Why would I want to do that? That would change me.
No, it wouldn’t, not his blood, not when you already have it in your system, Muriel said. Damon’s blood is the base for what you have become. Drinking anyone else’s blood would change you into Aradma or in the case of a purebred into Ishaaas or maybe even into Beliya, but his, without the ceremony, is the only one which doesn’t change you, but makes you stronger.
I see. Tina nodded. But I couldn’t bite him, I’m... I’m already full.
You don’t exactly need to feed on him, just dig your fangs into him, keep them there and take a sip.
Tina grimaced at Haniel’s instruction and eyed Damon.
Damon raised his brows.
Are you sure that this will work? Tina’s gaze slid down to Damon’s wrist.
No, Muriel said.
I see. Tina bit her lip. Could you at least tell me what is so urgent that I have to sink my teeth into Damon? Well, besides Uriel’s fears about Angelica. She pulled herself up on her knees, inched closer to Damon and with one finger pushed Damon’s sleeve up, exposing the pale skin. Was she really thinking about doing that?
So Tristian, Damon and I can work out the details of the drop off and so we can be in contact while the whole thing is in progress. We don’t have any equipment that would allow us that -- Prva’s Aradmas searched me before they allowed me to join you. And we really need to make sure that all possibilities of Angelica intruding are eliminated and that everything goes down smoothly, Uriel said.
“What?” Damon tilted his head.
Tina flipped Damon’s hand around. To connect Tristian, Damon and Uriel? They probably intended for Muriel or Haniel to repeat Tristian’s words to Damon.
She released a long breath. She still didn’t understand what the fuss was about; even if there were bugs, they could still use the faucet and make their headquarters in the bathroom. She looked up and past Damon’s shoulder at Uriel. But if Uriel refused to talk out loud or even in a whisper and if he wanted to have a mental connection with Damon and all of them -- if she had learned one thing while living with them, it was that Uriel was always right -- Uriel reasons had to be valid, and she just wasn’t able to understand them. She lifted Damon’s hand. “This won’t hurt.” Probably.
Damon’s brows rose even higher.
Okay, Tina took a deep breath and breathed it out in short puffs. The things she was doing for -- she lifted her eyes, looked first at Damon, then Uriel, and curled her lips in a small smile -- her family. Uriel together with Haniel and Muriel were her family and, if a little bite made the head of the family happy, then that was the least she could do. She leaned over Damon’s wrist and thought of the crimson red. Her fangs dropped down, she ran her tongue over them -- fangs, huh? -- before she took another deep breath and shoved her teeth into Damon’s wrist.
Thick, warm liquid filled her mouth and her body sang at the taste of it, at the power that shimmered on her tongue. Then something slammed into her mind. Something heavy and -- she could smell burning wood, dampness and something corrosive, something like ammonia and the smoke tickled her throat. What was going on? She coughed and the bile rose in her throat.