There was a solution to one of our problems, at least.
Hoping Gil couldn’t see any pity in my eyes, I cleared my throat. “Hey, I’m not about to let you take any blood—”
“I haven’t touched you, have I?”
“—but you could try asking for some.”
Gil looked at me as if I’d turned into a chicken. One of the lights flickered overhead. His voice was tight as he replied, “What are you saying? I need you to be really clear.”
“Look, I don’t know what Belanor is doing, or what he has planned, but you’re in it now. He killed you and you need to make a choice. It’s not fair. None of this should’ve happened, and you deserve the chance to grieve what you’ve lost, but that’ll have to wait. Right now, you need to make a choice,” I repeated.
When I finished speaking, Gil hung his head, as if the weight of my words was too much. He rubbed his mouth. Gums are probably sore, I thought with another rush of apprehension. A rush that made my heart quicken again. I refocused on my breathing in an effort to slow it. Calm. I had to stay calm.
Gil’s hand dropped back to his lap, and the sound of it slapping against his other arm was stark. He raised his gaze, and his eyes were even more bloodshot than before. His face was chalky. “Who the fuck are you?” he asked.
The question made me realize that, despite the time we had spent together and all the talking we’d done, I’d never told Gil that detail. My face was the last thing he saw before he died, and he hadn’t even known what to call me.
“My name is Fortuna Sworn.” I said it softly. Giving this stranger my name felt like a gesture of trust, somehow.
“Well, Fortuna Sworn.” Gil paused. The lump in his throat moved. “As tempted as I am to accept your offer, I think your knowledge of vampires has some holes in it. I’m a newborn, which means the instant you open a vein, I’ll go into a bloodrage. I’ve seen it happen, and that shit gave me nightmares.”
“Okay. So no blood donations, then.” My tone was deliberately light. I tried not to shift away from Gil, even as I had the thought that he possessed supernatural speed now. He could be on top of me in a blink, tearing my neck open with those shiny new teeth.
Another tense silence filled the room. I stared at the door, but I knew it wouldn’t open again until I was a Nightmare again, Gil was dead, or I was on death’s doorway.
Speaking of Nightmares, I thought wistfully. It was still hard to believe I was sitting near one. And Gil was a Nightmare, regardless of death stealing those abilities from him. It hadn’t taken his knowledge. There was so much I wanted to ask him, especially now that I’d gotten a second chance.
I doubted I would get a third. Belanor would still hear everything, but we were running out of time. Frowning, I glanced at Gil from beneath my lashes. When I saw his expression, shame gripped me, and I knew I wouldn’t be asking him any questions. I’d seen the same look on Collith’s face after he was yanked out of Hell. Not only had Gil just had his entire identity as a Nightmare stripped away, but he was facing a choice between eternity as a vampire or death.
My questions could wait.
Looking at him, I ached to give Gil some hope. It was as if he’d had a light before, and Belanor had reached inside and pulled it out.
During one of my many training sessions with Adam, he’d told me there was a code among vampires. A small set of rules, so to speak. One of those rules addressed newborns, who were never turned away by another vampire or left to their own devices. I didn’t know much else about the species—Adam was tight-lipped about them, as he was about most things—but the way he’d talked about that code spoke volumes. My friend wouldn’t hesitate to help Gil control the bloodlust.
“If we ever get out of this, you’re welcome to come back with me,” I said, my voice quiet and firm. Telling him without words that I knew the risk I was taking, and I didn’t care. “I know someone that could help you… adjust.”
The offer floated between us, but Gil didn’t respond. Instead, he started knocking his shoulder against the wall. I wondered if the motion comforted him, somehow. The gentle sound was the only one in the cell as I began to turn my thoughts toward escape. Maybe we could use Gil’s bloodlust to our advantage, somehow. The strength of a newborn vampire was certainly a match for a faerie.
As if he heard this, the male raised his head and fixed those red eyes on me. “Have you fully grasped the situation we’re in?” he demanded.
Taken aback, I blinked and instantly concentrated on my breathing. Deep inhale, hold, long exhale. “I think I have a fairly decent grasp, yes.”
“I’m not so sure.” Gil’s sideways rocking intensified. The sound of his shoulder hitting the pad floated between us. Thump. Thump. Thump. He clenched his jaw. His head was still lowered as he said, “There’s a knife in the heel of my boot. I bring it to a church every week, and put it in their holy water font. These pointy-eared assholes missed it when they took the rest of my shit. If I go for you, do whatever you need to do.”
“You’re not going to ‘go for me,’” I said instantly. Thump. Thump. Thump. “You can beat this, Gil.”
The male just kept rocking. All at once, I realized what he was doing—he was rocking to the sound of my heartbeat.
An instant after I made the connection, Gil’s motions quickened again. Because my pulse had started going faster. I fought the urge to swallow, knowing he would hear that, too. Talk to him. Keep him distracted. “So where did you grow up?” I chirped.
Gil gave me a look that said he knew exactly what I was doing. But he played along. “I was raised by my best mate’s family,” he answered. Thump. Thump. Thump.
I was back on dangerous ground. Not only would it be rude to pry into his past, it could affect his control over the bloodlust. But I had to know. “Why were you raised by them? Why not your parents?”
Thump. Thump. Thump. “They got in a car accident when I was nine. Freak accident.”
His eyes were shuttered as he spoke of his parents, his tone matter-of-fact, making it obvious he didn’t want to talk about them any more. I didn’t like it when people asked about my parents, either.
His eyes are too dark, I noted. He’d also gone still again, sitting against the wall as if he were ready to spring. “What is your best friend’s name?” I asked quickly.
Gil looked at me for a second too long. “Nicholas. His name is Nicholas. I call him Nicky, though. He hates it.”
A small grin touched his lips. When I saw the color return to Gil’s eyes, I started to relax. Talking about Nicky had helped him get a better hold on his humanity. It wouldn’t last long, but maybe just long enough for us to make a plan together. I cleared my throat and ventured, “The only advantages we have right now are—”
The door opened.
Gil and I turned our heads like mirror reflections of each other, both of us tensing. Belanor came through again, surrounded by his Guardians. Screaming started in my head. Whatever happened next was going to be bad, I could feel it. Violence practically crackled in the air.
“I tire of this,” Belanor announced. Before I could summon a cutting response, he crossed the room in an instant, and suddenly my arm was in his hand.