Chapter 3
I remembered the nursing home.
Before the outbreak, my parents delivered supplies there every month. I was nine and bored. In the farthest room, I found a thin boy sitting alone beside a barred window.
He never spoke. Bruises circled his wrists, and a fresh cut marked the corner of his mouth.
I had twelve candies in my pocket. I gave him one, then another, until he had all twelve.
"You can keep them," I had told him. "I get more at home."
Rin sat outside my door now, remembering every flavor.
"Orange. Grape. Milk," Rin said. "Two strawberry."
"That was fourteen years ago," I reminded him.
"I know," Rin answered.
He remembered the yellow coat I wore, the rabbit stitched on my pocket, and the grape candy I broke in half because I wanted some too. He had built fourteen years of hope from an afternoon I barely remembered.
Rin admitted that he had watched my base after he became infected. He had turned wandering hordes away from the walls. He had stopped mutated creatures from following my patrols. He had searched for me through fences and windows.
"That's called stalking," I told him.
"I was protecting you," Rin said.
"Without telling me."
"You would have been afraid."
"I'm afraid now."
Rin bent the metal cup in his hands.
The cut near my collar began to sting. One drop of blood slid down my neck.
Outside, the nursing home erupted with hungry cries.
Rin was inside the room before I saw him move. He pressed his back against the door, using his body to hold the others out. His chest rose from instinct rather than breath. His nails cut deep lines into the floor.
"Your blood," Rin said.
"What about it?"
"They want it."
"And you?"
His teeth lengthened. He turned his face away, but his hand found my waist and pulled me behind him.
The sudden movement brought my body against his back. Every muscle beneath his shirt was rigid. One cold hand stayed spread over my hip, large enough to hold me in place.
"Let go," I said, though my voice came out quieter than I intended.
Rin released me at once. His fingers dragged across my waist as they left, and the slow contact sent a shiver over my skin.
He noticed.
His gaze followed the movement of my throat. Then he lowered his head, fighting the hunger in his eyes.
"One drop," Rin whispered. "Give me one drop."
"No," I said.
The king of every infected creature in the city lowered himself before me. His forehead touched the toe of my shoe, and he kept both hands behind his back.
I should have stepped away. Instead, I caught his chin and made him look up.
His skin was cold beneath my fingers. His mouth parted, showing the sharp edge of his teeth. He could command an army, yet he waited for permission to move.
"You don't touch me unless I allow it," I told him.
"Yes," Rin said.
"You don't taste my blood unless I offer it."
"Yes."
My thumb rested against the scar at the corner of his mouth. Rin closed his eyes and leaned into that tiny touch like a starving man offered warmth.
"Tangtang," he begged. "Please."