Wicked Soul (Ancient Blood #1)(8)

Leaving me alone in the cage with the furious vampire.

I looked up, only to find him staring down at me, fangs extended and pitch-black eyes glued to the blood seeping between my fingers.

A deep growl emanated from him in unceasing waves.





4





“W-Warin?” I gulped, hoping against hope there was still some shred of humanity behind those black eyes I could reach.

The sound of his name cut his growl short. He stared at me for another second. Then he shook the broken chain off his wrists and forced his gaze away from my blood as he turned his back on me.

“Tie me to the bars.” His voice, so silky smooth before, had turned rough and gravelly—as if he were speaking through an animal’s jaws. “Now!”

I jolted at the sharp crack of his command. “H-how? With that?” I eyeballed the flimsy chain on the floor behind him. It’d been pretty pathetic before, and after the goons had taken pliers to it, I wasn’t even sure it’d reach around his wrists once.

“It’s silver—it’ll hold. Hurry.”

I wasn’t exactly keen on getting closer to him, but I had enough wits about me to realize that I was running on borrowed time. If the silver chain could really hold him, I needed to strap him down with it, stat.

Trembling as much from rampant anxiety as the steady drip of blood from my multiple lacerations, I scrambled across the cage floor to snatch up the broken chain. It felt too light between my fingers as I edged closer to the vampire. But he’d said it would hold, and I had to believe that… because it was pretty obvious it was the only thing that would save me from becoming vampire dinner.

I edged around Warin’s shoulder and reached for his wrists he’d already shoved through the bars. When my fingertips skimmed over his hands, a full body shudder went through him, and I jerked my hand away. “S-sorry!”

He didn’t reply, and he kept his head turned away while I fumbled with the chain. It was very short, but I managed to get it wrapped around his wrists and tie a tiny knot with the ends. As soon as it was done, I backed several steps away. “There.”

Warin’s shoulder moved in a deep sigh, and I realized he’d been holding his breath.

“Do vampires need to breathe?” I asked, confused at the memory of his completely still chest when I’d tackled him in an attempt to perform CPR earlier.

He turned his head to give me an incredulous stare over his shoulder.

“Right. Not the time,” I muttered. Our little vampire Q&A session was definitely over. Something about fighting off the urge to gorge on my blood probably didn’t lend itself to a presentation about vampire do’s and don’ts. I giggled, hysteria starting to edge in.

“You’re losing too much blood,” Warin said. He was probably right—there really wasn’t much to laugh about. With a strength of will, I forced myself to pull it together. I had to stem as much of the bleeding as I could—I might not be hemorrhaging, but goddess knew how long we’d be stuck in this cage.

With a determinedly set jaw, I began ripping strips of the bottom of my dress to act as gauze. My muscles burned from the effort, and I pushed back a wave of panic. I must have been bleeding more than I’d thought.

“You’ll die if we stay here.”

I glared up at him from tying a strip of my ruined dress around my left thigh. “Not fucking helpful, dude! I’m trying to not have a panic attack over here as is.”

He muttered a word I didn’t grasp. Probably nothing particularly nice.

“Let me drink from you.”

My fingers stilled against the cloth scrap. “Um… beg your pardon?” Did he just… suggest I offer up a taste, in the middle of me slowly bleeding to death?

“Your blood. I haven’t eaten in weeks—I can’t break us out when I am this weak.”

I blinked. “You can… break us out? If you have my blood?” My voice was sounding about as skeptical as I felt. About zero percent of me wanted to get close enough to the still feral-looking vampire for him to sink those very sharp fangs into my flesh.

“Yes.” He turned around as much as the chain around his wrists allowed and looked me straight in the eyes. “Do you want to die in this basement, Liv?”

“No.” It came out as a broken whisper, because I knew he was right. Even if blood loss didn’t kill me, our captors would eventually return. My options were pretty much to either trust a vampire, or die.

I drew in a deep breath and walked back toward him, doing my best to keep my legs steady. Once I reached him, I ducked under his left arm so I could lean up against the bars and wedge my body in between him and his tied wrists.

“Don’t kill me,” I said as I leaned my head back against the bars, offering my neck. It was meant as a playful joke to ease the tension, but it came out as scared as I felt.

Warin didn’t answer. His gaze was glued to my bloody shoulder and chest, the darkness in it flaming from within. His fangs seemed to lengthen even further as he curled his lip back and inhaled.

I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, preparing for the pain.

But instead of sharp fangs piercing my skin, cool lips brushed over my chest. And then he licked me.

Despite my woozy state, my eyes flew open from sheer shock at the unexpectedly sensual touch of the vampire’s tongue flicking up along my collarbone. I stared down at his bent head, the messy, dark brown hair shielding what he was doing from my vision.