William stole a box of uniforms from the administrative offices, surprised to find a size large enough for him, considering he is the tallest student here. He is even bigger than most of the staff, except for Director Minaro.
When a human is turned, their bones stretch, giving them extra height. If not for the plainness of her scent, he would suspect Minaro was a fellow immortal.
At the bottom of the uniform box, William stashed his original suit, its fabric far more durable than these modern cotton threads.
The room’s walls are bruised and punctured with crevices and loose stones. William strides up to one of the larger pieces and removes a chunk of rock to reveal a hole with a few items stuffed inside. He got the idea from his old hiding spot at Harvard.
He reaches into the wall and pulls out the three framed portraits,Hamlet, his family portrait, and his eulogy. The entirety of his possessions.
He lays all six items on the dusty floor, panning across Grandsire, himself, and Leonardo the Bloody. In the family portrait, he focuses on his parents. Theirs was the rarest kind of relationship because their feelings for each other never wavered in intensity, even after they were turned. Friends used to refer to them as Franklin and Ismelda, the vampire versions of Romeo and Juliet by Chanterelle Harrington.
They would not have abandoned their only child if they could help it.
Only one being was powerful enough to have overruled his parents. William looks at Grandsire’s portrait, the steely eyes and curled mustache and stern expression. Why did they not leave William a letter or some kind of explanation? Why all the games?
And why has William not had a damn drink in days?
He cannot be expected to function on so little blood. As his Familiar, Lorena has a duty to him.
It is time his needs are met.
WILLIAM SEESthe three of them go in, then he waits.
While her friends shower at night, Lorena prefers mornings. So she is usually the first to leave the bathroom.
He watches as she walks out, holding a small towel and toiletry bag. When he does not sense anyone approaching, he sweeps her up and whisks her away.
She gasps when he sets her down in the folds of a heavy velvet curtain, far from prying eyes or patrolling ears. He wanted privacy, but he overestimated how much space they would have in here.
“What—what is this?” she asks, sounding out of breath.
“You agreed to be my Familiar.” His gaze trails down from her lips to her chin to the arch of her neck. The fabrics of their clothes are brushing, and he grows distractingly aware of the points where they are making contact.
“The FDA,” she whispers, and he forces his eyes to travel back up to hers.
“What?”
“The Food and Drug Administration. It’s a government agency. They recommend a person wait eight weeks between blood donations. I looked it up online when we were at Harvard.”
“Eight weeks?”That is absurd. “The Familiar does not set the rules.”
“Youdounderstand that I need my blood to survive,” she says, and as usual, he is not sure if the sentence is punctuated with a period or a question mark.
“As do I,” he points out. “Unfortunately for you, I am more powerful, so my needs come first.”
Her eyes widen and widen, until she looks almost deranged. “So I’m your personal blood bank until I die? Fuck that! And fuck you. If you’re going to kill me, do it now.”
Lorena closes her eyes and takes deep breaths, like she is steeling herself for whatever comes next. Every time he thinks he can predict what she will do, the girl surprises him.
Yet she is right. He must do this eventually, so he should just accept her sacrifice and get it over with.
“What about the recording?” he cannot help asking.
She opens her eyes. “Wow.You’ll just betray anyone, even the only ally you have.” Her gaze is so scorching that he can practically feel the heat emanating from her body. “Doing whatever it takes to survive—who does that remind you of? You sound a lot like that inferiorman,Mr. Rochester!”
“These games will not work on me,” William warns her, his fangs descending in anticipation of feeding. “If you are trying to tame me, you will only get hurt.”
“I won’t be useful to either of us if I lose too much blood,” she says, the sharpness in her voice weakening at the sight of his fangs. “You fasted for a long time and survived.”
