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Annalise’s stomach dipped and spun like stretched taffy the moment Grace announced the men were back. Looking down at the fabric pinned to her, she wasn’t sure how to get it off. “Grace?”
The sisters stood at the window, one’s posture so regal and intimidating the other’s stature small and inconsequential, yet it was Grace’s hand that rested on Larissa’s back giving silent comfort.
Her suspicions had to be true. Larissa, though standing tall with her chin up, feared her husband, and Grace knew it too. Why didn’t they do anything to help her? Maybe Adam could.
“You’ll be back to visit again soon,” Grace said softly and they turned from the window, both wearing blank expressions of acceptance.
Larissa’s eyes jumped to Annalise. “Oh! We have to unpin you.”
They removed the scraps of fabric now marked for sewing and carefully lay them on the table.
“I’ll sew these tonight,” Grace said.
She didn’t know how far the men were or how much time they had left alone, so Annalise took Larissa’s hands in hers. “Thank you for today.”
The woman smiled with such beauty the world seemed to hitch its breath and miss a beat. “It was my pleasure, Annalise.” She cupped her cheek. “Be good to my brother.”
There was so much Annalise wanted to tell her. Her mind wrestled with the approaching future, unsure where she might be in a week, a month, or a year. What would happen to her? To Adam? To all of them?
“You could come with me.”
Grace stilled from organizing the unsewn dresses and Larissa’s face blanked.
“Even if I stay, I could help you leave—”
“Anna, you mustn’t,” Grace hissed.
“It’s all right, Gracie.” Larissa, still holding Annalise’s hands, smiled again. “But you’re going to stay. And you’re going to have a beautiful life with my brother. You’ll see. Don’t let my marriage to Silus change your mind about anything, Annalise. Adam’s an honorable male who has little in common with the male I married.”
“But—”
“Hush now. I now know I have options. That alone will hold my smile for a while.”
“They’re here,” Grace said, and Larissa released her hands.
Heavy footsteps pounded up the steps and the front door opened. Relief swept through her at the sight of Adam.
His sleeves rolled to his elbows and his black pants clung to his legs as his heavy boots stepped into the kitchen. But his eyes wore lines of weariness at the corners when he smiled and approached.
“Ainsicht.” He brushed his fingers over her jaw, but didn’t kiss her. “I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” The truth came out without thought or doubt.
He turned and took Larissa’s hand. “Are you staying?”
“I can’t. Silus is readying the horse.”
Why didn’t anyone tell this Silus guy to go fuck himself?
Adam nodded without argument. “I’m glad you were able to meet Annalise.”
Larissa grinned at her brother and whispered, “I think she’s perfect for you, Adam.”
The door opened and despite the warm August air, the room chilled. No longer distracted by Larissa, Annalise could now see Silus. Dark features matched flawless tanned skin. His eyes were dark and beady, and his hair slicked with oil that kept every strand in place. He carried himself the same purposeful way a king cobra moved, silent and dangerous.
“Are you ready?” He ignored everyone but Larissa. But he only talked at her rather than to her, so Annalise was glad he didn’t speak to anyone else.
Larissa’s gaze dropped to the floor and she nodded. Annalise wanted to scream when he gripped her by the upper arm and everyone just stood there in silence, letting this supposed husband of hers lead her out of the house.
She looked at Adam, who seemed to anticipate her stare, but his expression remained unreadable. At the sound of the carriage pulling away, Grace sighed.
“I’m going for a walk,” she announced and it was the first time Annalise saw something more than childlike innocence in her eyes.
As soon as they were alone, she said, “I don’t like that man.”
“I can feel that. Silus is not a bad person. You should get to know him before you—”
“I think he beats your sister.”
Adam stilled from sipping a glass of water. “It is not our place to make such assumptions, ainsicht. Silus is Larissa’s husband.”
“I don’t care who he is to her. You of all people should know she’s terrified of him. Don’t you feel it?”
He put down the glass. “It’s been a long day—longer than I expected. I’m weary and have too much on my mind to discuss my sister’s emotions. I’m going upstairs.”
She followed him through the hall to his room. “How can you just ignore what I said?”
“I’m not ignoring you. We can discuss it later. At the moment, I don’t have the energy to think beyond our circumstances.”
They entered his bedroom and he sat in the corner chair, unlacing his boots. She stood inside the doorway, just beyond the threshold. Her hands fisted at her sides.
“Is that how it works around here? A man bullies one of the women and everyone just turns a blind eye?”
His boot clattered to the floor and he unlaced the other. “Not a man, her husband. And as such, he is the head of the household whom Larissa vowed to honor and obey.”
“Oh, please! Don’t make me throw up.”
He stood and slid off his suspenders. He hung his hat on the back of the chair. “Did you discuss this with Larissa? If you had, she would have told you to stay out of it. I know my sister and she knows her place.”
“Her place?”
“Yes, the place she agreed to take by her husband’s side. Do you think she didn’t have a choice to marry Silus? She knew what and whom she fixed to marry. The moment she made her vows she made a promise to him, her community, and God. No one can break that promise for her, Anna. Not me, not you, not even Silus. Only she can choose to change her circumstances, because only she will face the consequences of her choices. She is not as fragile as she seems.”
Her molars locked. “What about mates? What about all the fail proof stuff you claim we share?”
He opened the three buttons of his shirt and dropped to sit on the chair again, his face angled to the floor as he massaged his brow. “What about it? She and Silus are only married. What they share is very different from the connection you and I share.”
“But if she has some perfect match out there, why wouldn’t she wait?”
He sighed. “Because God decides when the time is right, and she could have waited centuries. Sometimes company is easier than loneliness, even when it’s the wrong company.”
She thought about Grace. How long would she have to wait?
Adam stood and approached the door. Realizing her concern wouldn’t just wash away, he said, “Silus will give her a family. She will take great comfort in raising children. All of that takes time, but it also passes time. My sister’s life will be a happy one, I assure you. But some transitions take patience. There’s an adjustment. She’ll settle in soon enough and by next summer she might have a daughter or son to adore.”
His solution was pregnancy? She was trapped in a primitive Twilight Zone. “I guess.”
“Come in and sit.” He took her hand and she sucked in a breath.
“What is that?” Her fingers closed over his and squeezed. A hollow ache filled her, as heavy as a cannonball and as empty as a balloon.
Adam pulled his hand away and the sensation disappeared. “It’s nothing.”
“Hey.” She caught his arm. “That’s not nothing.” She pressed a hand to his head. “You feel warm. Is that normal?”
He smiled though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re concerned.”
Only then, did she really look into his eyes. “Adam, you look like shit.”
“Language.” He moved to lean against the wall as he stripped off his shirt, his motions not nearly as fluid as before. When he turned, his palm pressed into the plaster and he shut his eyes, as if fighting a dizzy spell.
“Are you okay?”
His skin had a pasty, sallow haze and his eyes seemed flat. “Just a little vertigo. It will pass. I haven’t...” His was focus interrupted, and he wiped his brow where beads of sweat gathered. “It’s my stomach.”
“Did you eat anything? I can make you something.” I think.
She didn’t know how to cook on a stove that worked from wood and she was pretty sure they didn’t have any boxes of Easy Mac lying around, but she could figure something out.
“I have no appetite.”
His feet tripped over nothing and she rushed forward, helping him to the bed. The moment her hands touched him, the hollow ache filled her again.
She had so many questions about his visit to the Council and what would happen to his brother, but all concerns took a back seat to his well-being.
“Lie back. I’ll get you some water.”
She helped him recline on the bed and filled the glass on the dresser from the pitcher.
“Take a sip.”
He watched her as he drank from the glass, but after only a few sips he pushed it away. “I can’t.”
“What happened to your impeccable immune system?”
“My body’s trying to function properly, but I’m not allowing it.” His eyes closed and he winced. “I just need to rest for a few minutes.”
His fingers laced with hers and she frowned. “Let your body fix you, Adam. You look awful.” She pulled her hand away. “And ... I can feel it when I touch you.” No clue how that worked.
His eyes opened. “You feel my hunger?”
It felt more like starvation. She touched her throat which seemed suddenly dry. “I feel an empty ache. I need a sip of your water.”
She lifted the glass and drank to the last drop, but her thirst remained. Refilling it at the pitcher, she guzzled another glass down. Her stomach filled, cutting off any room to drink more, but her throat wanted something liquid and soothing. She poured a third glass but forced herself to only take a small sip this time.
Returning to the bed where Adam rested with his eyes closed, face pinched with discomfort, she brushed her fingers through his hair. “If you’re hungry, you should eat.”
The tension in his face slightly soothed as she brushed her fingertips over his skin. Sometimes he’d tip his face to her palm the way a cat chased a petting hand.
“Food isn’t what I need.”
“What then? Medicine?”
His breathing slowed, eyes still closed. Despite his condition, he grinned. “This is nice,” he rasped. “I like having you here, taking care of me.”
She liked it too. Being there, that was. She’d spent enough sleepless nights waiting by the bedside of a sick patient, worrying if she blinked too long her mother’s fight might end.
“Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.” She didn’t like seeing him this weak.
“Just stay with me like this.”
“Adam...” He needed medicine or maybe a tea. “When this happens, how do you get better? What does your body want?”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“I’m right here.”
“I’m too weak to...” He let out a soft breath. “Promise you won’t leave. The spell will pass.”
Her brow tightened. “I won’t leave. I promise.”
He weakly caught her wrist and kissed the soft underside where her pulse beat. “I only need you.”
“Adam, come on. You can barely hold up your head.”
His lips pressed to her wrists, holding her tender pulse against his soft lips. “It’ll pass...”
She tsked and pulled her hand away. “I think you’re dehydrated and hallucinating. You’re not making any sense. I’m going to find your sister.”
“No.” The sharp command halted her exit. “You promised to stay.”
“I’m not leaving the house, I just want to see if Grace is back from her walk. Maybe she can make you soup.”
“I can’t eat.”
“Then tea. You need something.”
“I need you.”
“Be serious. You’re ill.”
He waved a weak hand, signaling her back to the bed. His eyes opened like little slits as he watched her through his lashes. “I need to finish telling you...”
She sat on the bed at his hip and used her apron to blot the beads of perspiration off his face. “Telling me what?”
“Our story.” He held her hand and she tolerated the hollow ache as best she could, but it took effort. The distracting pangs filled her with woozy waves of emptiness that stole her focus, but she breathed through and they eventually passed. “I need to explain the rest to you.”
His faintness gnawed at her. “You can tell me later when you feel better. For now, you need to rest.”
“No.” He licked his lips. “We don’t have much more time. I need to tell you, Annalise. I need you to listen. You must know the extent of what I’m asking so you can make your decision. We’re running out of time. I can feel the—”
“Okay,” she squeezed his hand, trying to calm him. “Okay, Adam. Tell me. I’m listening.”
He caught his breath and his grip on her hand tightened. She felt a wave of relief through the discomfort.
“You remember the ceremony I told you about, and the bonding?”
“Yes.” She remembered—no anesthetics. She still had questions about the ritual and the transfusion, but she’d save them for later once he regained his strength. “I remember.”
“Once the transition begins, my cells will reconstruct inside your body—sturdier and at a speed that modern science lacks the equipment to track. Your body will be reborn. Your scars will fade. Your joints will soften, and your bones will gain density. Everything you are will change, but you’ll still be you. Only stronger.”
“What happens to my brain?” Her memories, her tastes, and dislikes, and silly things like knowing that you were supposed to brush your teeth up and down not back and forth. “Will I remember everything?”
“You’ll remember everything up until the transition starts. Then you’ll sleep. And when you awaken, your memories will all be there, but you’ll see the world through new eyes. The air will smell different, crisper. The sky will be bluer. Depths will be shallower and desires will be steeper.”
“This is insane. How long does the transition take?”
“A matter of hours. I could introduce you to others who have been through it. They have no memories of the death, only the memory of being reborn with immeasurable vitality.”
Was she actually considering this? Losing the closest person in her life plagued her with thoughts about mortality on a daily basis. It was the driving source that put her in the medical field and the reason she’d been so angry with God.
If he could actually make it so she couldn’t die, she’d never have to fear death again. But would there come a time when she reached her limit? Survival, even in mundane suburbia, got exhausting.
“Do you ever get tired of it?” she asked.
“Tired?”
He was only thirty-seven, so he hadn’t really lived yet. “How old is too old?”
His eyes watched her. “We have Elders who have lived for centuries.”
“Centuries?”
He nodded. “But there are older immortals out there.”
“Older than centuries?”
“It’s immortality, Annalise. We’ve endured plagues, famine, and acts of God. So long as the will to survive remains, our existence continues.”
“But you can die.”
“Yes. There are ways. And like any other species capable of love and loss, happiness and sadness, there is suicide. But there is also life, and when you’re with the person you love, then every day is happy and there’s little desire to die.”
An unsteady breath pushed past her lips. She didn’t love Adam. She hardly knew him. His culture contrasted her world so much, most of their time together had been spent adapting to the differences.
Yet she slept with him.
Her jaw twitched. Maybe that wasn’t the brightest choice, but she couldn’t find the will to regret it.
When Adam touched her, her body sang. When he kissed her, he awoke a part of her soul. When he looked at her, her entire body awoke as if it were sleeping for two solid decades and never spent a moment truly alive.
How could any of that be possible? How did she sometimes feel his pain? And today, when she’d been thinking about her mother and returning home to the boxes of things that waited, what was that feeling that washed over her?
“Something happened to me today?” She watched his eyes to see if they gave anything away. “Grace and I were talking, and I was thinking about something that made me sad.”
“I know. I felt you.”
“You ... felt me? How?” It was one thing for them to sit across from each other and share some weird Ouija board experience, but he hadn’t been home when this happened.
“The more time we spend together, the stronger the tether that binds us.”
“But how does that work? You did something to me. I felt you inside of me when you were nowhere around.”
“I only meant to comfort you, ainsicht. I felt your sadness and I... I’ve never tried to explain it before. I suppose it leaves me like a prayer and finds you like the brush of a kiss.”
That’s exactly what it had felt like, a kiss. It was as if he kissed her memories, the ones that brought her grief, the way a parent might kiss a scrape on a child’s knee.
Her breath rushed out and she silently laughed. “Can I do it to you?”
“Perhaps in time. If you transition, you might find you have other talents, things I can’t do.”
“Really?” She wanted to see what those skills might be.
“I sense your curiosity, but also your uncertainty. What I don’t feel from you, is fear.”
But she was afraid. She was afraid she’d die, afraid she’d lose her independence, afraid she’d wake up in a psychiatric ward where this was all a dream. But she no longer feared him.
“I guess I’m trying to keep an open mind.”
“Would you like me to tell you how it’s done?”
Now, he was speaking her language. “Yes! I mean, I’m sure you have some sterile equipment here. We learned about the first blood transfusions in school. Did you know that they once used animal blood? Is there a way to test that we’re a match?”
“We’re a match. That’s already been proven.”
“You’re AB negative, too?”
He smiled. “You’re not AB negative, Annalise.”
“Yes, I am. My blood is the rarest kind.”
“I think it’s rarer than you realize. Your blood carries biological matter that other human bodies wouldn’t tolerate.”
Her expression fell. “What are you talking about?”
She’d donated blood countless times. They used her platelets for her mother near the end. Was that why she hadn’t responded?
His hand tightened around hers. “Your blood isn’t poison, Anna. Just different. Same as a surplus of vitamin B will wash through your system, the over responsive cells of your blood will wash away, too.”
“How do you know this? If you haven’t looked at my blood under a microscope—which I have—how do you know it’s different?”
His lips pressed tight and she knew the instant he tried to hide something from her. She pulled back her hand, but he wouldn’t let go of her.
“Adam, tell me how you know that.”
“Because I stole your blood.”
This time when she pulled her hand back, she broke contact. “What?”
“I needed to. It was necessary. It allowed me to prolong the... Your blood is the only thing keeping my symptoms at bay.”
“So you stole it? When? Where? Why don’t I remember?”
“You were asleep.”
She stood and paced to the door. Her brain couldn’t categorize this sort of violation, but her heart told her it was somewhere between collecting someone’s hair for a forensic DNA test and getting roofied.
“What the fuck, Adam! You stole my blood? Who does that?”
“I didn’t have a choice, Anna. If I hadn’t, I never would have made it back here with you...” More covered lies. She could see him swallowing secrets by the mouthful. “We would have run out of time.”
“Stop. You stole my blood. Do you have any idea how ... creepy that is?” Her fury rose the longer she tried to picture it. “Where were we when this happened? Was it in this bed?”
“No. I haven’t taken your blood since we arrived on the farm.”
Her skin tingled with a chill. “You did this before we got here?”
His head lowered. “The first time was the night we met. I followed you home.”
“Oh, my God.”
Her stomach twisted, his true nature showing in a hideous light. Violated. Robbed. Stalked. Kidnapped. She was so stupid to trust him. But worst of all, as she realized all of this, she was sad he wouldn’t deny it.
Part of her wanted him to laugh. Ha-ha, just kidding. But he was serious, and this was her reality. And she had sex with him—willingly.
“Were you in my house before the night you abducted me?” she rasped.
She saw the truth in his eyes before he said, “Yes.”
Disappointment stole through her. She’d actually considered doing this for him. He almost had her convinced and believing he was a decent man.
“I want to go home.”
“You promised you’d stay—”
“That was before I knew what you did! Do you have any idea how violated I feel?”
“Yes, I do. I feel your fury, shame, and distrust as clearly as if it were my own. But I can’t undo what’s been done and I want to be honest with you.”
She laughed without humor. “Honest about following me home, breaking into my apartment, and violating me in my sleep?”
“Anna, please listen.” He sat up and she held out a hand.
“Stay back. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“If you’d just let me explain. Your blood slows my mortality. Since the dreams started, I’ve been dying a little more each day. The little I took sustained my strength. Other blood won’t work anymore. Only yours.”
“This is why I’ve been so weak. It makes perfect sense now. Here I am, thinking something’s wrong with me and it’s been your fault all along.”
“I wouldn’t let any harm come to you.”
“No, of course not. Unless you’re the danger.” She scoffed. “You go on and on about protecting me, but the truth is my life was a million times safer before we met.”
He flinched, her words hitting their mark. But she wasn’t finished.
“You find me, spew all this nonsense about trust, take me away from my home, and you’ve been doing terrible, creepy shit to me all along! You want me to trust you, but you don’t trust me! That’s why you brought me here. I can’t run away here. You didn’t trust me to hear you out in my territory. You wanted a homecourt advantage and got it.”
“I brought you here because there’s too much distraction where you’re from. I needed your full attention in order for you to truly comprehend what I was asking of you.”
“Ha! When you asked.” She shook her head. “Why start requesting my permission now? You have me here. Hell, I haven’t even been given shoes. We’ve established you’re stronger, faster, and superior in ways I can’t even fathom. Oh, and we happen to be trapped in the Seventh Circle of chauvinistic Hell!”
“You’re hysterical.”
“I have every right to be!” she shrilled. “What the fucking fuck, Adam! Who are you and why are you doing this to my life? Why me?”
His face tightened and his eyes shimmered. “I’m sorry.”
Her head lowered. Keeping her eyes and voice low, she confessed, “The worst part is, I believe you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness for any of this, but I believe you’re sorry and for some reason I can’t stay mad at you. But...” She swallowed and glanced up at him, pressing her hand over her heart. “It hurts. Your secrecy and your actions, they hurt, Adam.”
He rose from the bed and pulled her into his arms. Her fists bunched at his chest, separating them and pushing him back, but he was stronger.
“I’m so incredibly sorry, Annalise. I never meant to hurt or disappoint you. My intentions were only to give you more time. We needed more time.”
His weakness, stronger than before, beat into her. Her fists unlocked and she wrapped her arms around him so they could hold each other up.
“You’re ready to fall over,” she said, her own knees trembling under the pressure of his faintness.
“I’m fine. I could hold you a hundred days like this, so long as it kept you from walking out that door.”
She shut her eyes and sighed. “I don’t know what to do, Adam. I don’t know how to make sense of any of this. But right now, this anemia or whatever you have, it’s crushing me. If my blood helps lesson the symptoms, let’s find a syringe and I’ll give you some. I’m offering it freely this time. It’s that easy.”
He let go of her, head down, and backed away. “It’s not that easy.”
So help her God, she couldn’t take much more. Through gritted teeth, she asked, “Why?”
He looked at her, regret reflecting in his eyes, and her heart twisted before he even spoke. This wasn’t going to be good.
“I have to drink the blood.”