Chapter 3
Days went by. On the third day, he finally came.
The key turned, and the iron door was pushed open.
He stood in the doorway. The light behind him was so strong that his face was lost in the shadows. In his hand, he held a small cup of blood.
I stared at that cup as if it were the only hope left in the world.
I crawled through the hay and dust, all the way to his feet. My hands trembled as I took the cup from him and drank the blood in one gulp.
It was the nastiest thing I'd tasted, but somehow also the sweetest. That little bit of blood felt like a splash of cold water, putting out the fire burning inside me.
I collapsed on the ground, gasping for air. Tears streamed down my face.
He looked down at me.
"This is where you belong," he said.
His voice was flat. "On the ground. In the corner. At the place where I can see you. You're my creation. Unless I say so, you don't get to die."
I closed my eyes. Tears soaked into my hair.
At that moment, I remembered something my mom used to say. She told me to find a man who would die for me, not one who made me die for him.
Sebastian threatened my life more than once.
I doubted it'd be the last time.
*****
In the days that followed, I picked up a new habit of counting, not the days, but how many times Sebastian drained blood from me.
On day one, he took 7 ounces. On day two, it was 10 ounces, and by day three, he drew 17 ounces.
Every time the needle slid into my vein, I'd squeeze my eyes shut and count the seconds in my head. It wasn't the pain that scared me. I wondered how much longer I could last.
On the fourth day, Sebastian didn't show up.
Instead, Isabella came.
When she pushed open the iron door, her perfume flooded the whole basement.
It was expensive, heavy with roses and musk, but when it mixed with the musty, bloody stench down here, it was enough to make me gag.
She wore a deep red velvet dress. Her golden curls spilled over her shoulders, and her skin was smooth and glowy.
She was beautiful. That was what made me sickest of all because her beauty thrived on my blood.
"Still alive, huh?" she said, standing in the doorway. She stayed outside the door, as if she were afraid her shoes might get dirty.
I kept quiet, curled up in the corner.
"Do you know why you feel so awful?" she said, leaning against the doorframe, absentmindedly twirling her hair. "It's not the blood loss. It's your demon hunter bloodline rebelling against all this."
I looked up at her.
She smiled. "That's right, demon hunter. You've got demon hunter blood running through your veins.
"You know what that means? Your blood has a healing ability. It's like the ultimate fix for vampires. But if they take too much, it turns into deadly poison.
"That's why Sebastian keeps the amount in check. He won't let you die. Not yet.
"Because if you die..."
She crouched down so our eyes were level. "His bloodline will be cursed forever. He'll never have any descendants or forge another blood bond.
"So you're only a blood source, one that regenerates its own blood, begs for mercy, and cries all alone. So handy."
Then she spun around and left.
As the door slammed shut, I heard her laughing.
Her laughter echoed down the corridor, lingering for a long time.
*****
I started coughing up blood, not the kind from being drained.
Every morning, I'd wake up to find a little puddle of deep red blood next to my pillow.
Marcus, Sebastian's servant, a lowly vampire, would come by every day to bring me a cup of blood.
He was kinder than the others. When no one was watching, he'd slip me an extra half cup.
"Your body is getting worse," Marcus whispered one day. "They're draining blood from you too frequently. You're the last of your bloodline. Without an original's approval, your body can't handle it."
"I know," I said.
"You know?" Marcus asked.
"I know I'm dying," I said, locking eyes with him. "But before I die, I have to keep the baby alive."
Marcus froze. "The baby?"
I instinctively put my hand over my stomach. It had only been a few weeks. There was no sign of a bump.
But I could feel it, a faint, warm presence at the very core of me. Unlike the cold connection I had with Sebastian, this tiny life was warm, like a little spark burning inside.
"You didn't tell him?" Marcus asked.
"No," I said.
"Why?" he asked.
I gave a bitter smile. "What's the point? So he can draw blood from me more frequently or get rid of the baby?"
Marcus went quiet. Then he said something I'd never forget. "You're stronger than him. You're protecting your baby. He's destroying it."
*****
On the eighth day, Sebastian came to draw blood from me again.
This time, he didn't bother making me drop one on my knees. He directly pinned me to the floor and jabbed the needle into my arm.
I didn't struggle anymore. Struggling was useless, and begging was also useless. All I could do was use the last bit of strength I had to protect my stomach with my other hand.
He noticed. "You're always protecting your stomach. Why?"
My hand froze. "Nothing."
He was silent for a few seconds and then kept drawing blood. When he finished, he didn't leave right away.
"You really think you can keep it alive?" he said. "A half-vampire, half-demon hunter baby will drain your life force. Your body's already breaking down. With this child inside you, you're killing yourself."
"I don't care," I replied.
"You should care," he said.
"Why?" I jerked my head up and stared him down. "Is it because if my body gives out, you won't have a blood source anymore? Or are you scared that if I die, your bloodline will end?"
His expression flickered. "Don't look at me like that."
"So what kind of look do you want from me? Should I love you? Worship you? Or thank you for making me your blood source?" I demanded.
He didn't answer. He turned and walked away.
As the door shut, I muttered into the cold air. "I'll keep this baby alive. Even if it costs me my life, it will survive."