A Scale of Sapphire

Evelyn

I tracked them by scent, staggering through winding corridors and slumping in dark corners when the angels passed by. I could feel my skin burning and flaking off, and I think I puked at some point. My throat felt dry and parched, my thirst building faster than it ever had before. I wasn’t sure how much longer the rat magic could conceal me. It could only mask so much, and already, the stench of burning and vomit was making the trail harder to follow.

Eventually, after who knows how long, I could hear them.

“...I will drag you to the top kicking and screaming if I have to!”

The confession. We got him. An explosion rang out moments later, the signal to the others. I guess Eric got away after all. All that was left was to get Matt and Chel out of here. Gritting my teeth against the pain, I burst into the room in a streak of red, placing myself between Cyrus and the kids in the process.

Then I fell.

Cyrus laughed.

“Oh, that is just too damn perfect!” A pair of angels, hearing the commotion, had rushed over, and with a wave of his hand, Cyrus had them restrain Matt and Chelsea while he laughed. He tried to speak a few more times, but eventually gave up, just laughing at me until his breaths came more evenly. When he finally calmed down, he stood from his chair, marched on over, and leaned down to look at me. “I gotta admit, this was unexpected. I figured you two would feed me a lie. Plan some kind of ambush for me. I thought I’d walk into whatever trick Aoife had planned, trounce whoever she sent to kill me, and push them until I got the truth about where she’s hiding. I never would’ve thought she’d attack me directly.”

He placed a booted foot on my chest, pressing down hard and grinding his heel in. Matt was screaming something, but I couldn’t make it out, and when Cyrus waved his hand again, the angel holding Matt placed a hand over his mouth.

“You’re Matt’s father, aren’t you?” He smirked at me. “Good to finally meet you, sir. You raised a good kid. Damn shame what happened to ya though, and it’s a damn shame you’re the one Aoife sent. If you weren’t a vampire, you wouldn’t be quite so crispy right now. You might’ve gotten away, but ah well. These things happen.” A thought seemed to cross his mind as some indiscernible emotion flickered across his face, and he paused, turning towards the kids. “Wanna see something neat?”

Without waiting for a response, he quickly grew the claws on one of his hands into long talons, slashing open his other palm. The scent of his blood wafted into my nostrils, and without my even realizing it, I started thrashing wildly, straining to reach that precious nectar. He looked back down at me, something almost like pity in his eyes.

“Vampires are like addicts.” He said, lowering his hand towards me. “They need blood. They can’t help it, and when they’re thirsty, they’ll drink, even if it hurts them.”

He continued to speak, but it was lost on me as he finally placed himself within my reach. I clung to his arm, digging my fangs into his hand as I tried desperately to quench this awful thirst, to ease the pain and burning.

If I was thinking rationally, I might’ve considered that drinking from the guy whose mere presence had done this to me wasn’t a good idea, but I was starving and in pain. I needed to drink something, and his blood was right there. I shouldn’t have been surprised when it burned the back of my throat.

I was surprised anyway.

That didn’t mean I stopped drinking though. Even as it burned, even as I sputtered and coughed, I kept drinking more. I was desperate, and blood was supposed to help. Every instinct I had told me that this was the right course, and the last part of me that was still conscious was much too focused on trying to get out of this. I could worry about the consequences of this later, right now I needed to find a solution, and there’s no way I’d be able to think straight if all my focus was on holding myself back.

Then I remembered some truly crucial information. Cyrus was an idiot, and he’d just given me the one tool I needed to get us all out of here. He pulled his hand free of my jaws, looking down on me with disgust as I began frantically lapping up what was left on my hands. As soon as he looked away though, I bit down hard, causing my own blood to well up and mix with his.

If I remembered right, Erica said potions were made from three things. A piece of the subject you were mimicking, a piece of yourself, and intent. Now I had all three, and I knew what I wanted. With the mix of both our blood, I wanted a piece of his strength. I wanted to be strong enough to get this bastard off of me.

With thoughts of better blood to come, I forced myself to stop drinking, grabbed Cyrus by the ankle, and threw him through the wall. Before either angel could react, I’d shot to my feet, darting towards one and ripping out its jugular as my free hand crushed the throat of the other. I was working on autopilot at this point, my only thoughts on doing the job I’d came here for, but that was enough. Before Cyrus could recover from his shock, I scooped up Chel and Matt, and carried them out of the lair.

There.

My part was done.

I could finally go to sleep.