Page 20 of The Unraveling

Victor’s wide gaze travels to the gauze on his wrist, the pink having spread wider. “Isla, when you drank from me in the study earlier, what did it taste like?”

I’m warm with the memory of the first time he let me drink from his wrist. With my lips pressed against his cold skin, the chill of his blood was soothing down my throat. I drank greedily, wishing he would reach across the desk and play with my hair like he might if I had my mouth focused . . . elsewhere on him.

Afterward, I was in bliss. The details of the world smoothed, and my body was so light that I didn’t think I could stand up without floating away. He carried me to the velvet sofa in his study, and I watched him read until the flipping pages turned me over to dreamland.

“What do you mean, Dr. Todd?” I ask.

When he lifts the bag toward a pretty blond-haired patient I’ve never seen before, it seems as heavy as a dumbbell to him, and his arm drops to his side the moment she grabs it. I mull her over, her name on the tip of my tongue.

“Okay, Isla. Just . . . have a taste,” Dr. Todd requests.

The patient holds the blood bag out to me.

My heart flails at the thought of taking it. I know I’ll drink from them as a vampire, but not now. Why would he want me to drink from one now? It would be disgusting! The flavor will change once I’m immortal. Transform into a wine so euphoric, vampires kill for it. Which is precisely why Victor forbids his fledglings from ever killing for it.

“Isla,” she whispers as she sets it on the table. “Why don’t you want it?”

I swear my chair tips backward on its own. My hands scramble for the edge of the table, and it shudders as I clamp my fingers on it. Yet it’s just my mind pitching me through time, and I settle hard against the wooden seat.

“Daisy,” I choke out. “I don’t feel well.”

Thirst creeps up on me, flaring white hot in my throat as I stare at the rich crimson sitting mere inches away. Venom thickens in my mouth, and I wait for my fangs to descend and for her pale wrist to lift in offering. But neither happens. Instead, my eyes well up with tears. I wipe them away, now a crimson taunt against the pale flesh of my hand.

Victor’s hoarse voice catches my attention. “I don’t understand how I can be so thirsty.”

Daisy hums in thought before carefully uttering, “Maybe you should see what water tastes like”—Victor’s expression morphs with horror—“as a test . . .”

He sighs, desperation leaching from his words to fill his eyes instead. “It will taste like water. Like fluoride and whatever else is in it. Nothing special. Nothing sustainable.”

She shrugs and clears her throat the way she does when her heart is fluttering wrong. “Well, how do you know if your taste buds are out of sync? Shouldn’t you at least test it? You know, for science?”

Victor turns and stares at the sink with disdain, his lips flattening. Daisy takes it as a cue and stands, retrieving a glass from the cupboard and filling it with cold water. Victor’s hand hesitates as she holds it out to him, though he relents with another sigh and stares into it with a curled lip. He takes a tentative sip that deepens until he’s tilting his head back and emptying the glass with gasping gulps.

“How does it taste?” she asks as he hands her the glass and wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

Victor’s head merely sways as he mutters, “Just . . . I require more, I suppose.”

She refills the glass and returns it to him. I can’t help my frown as he chugs it and hands it back to her for another.

The tortured delirium in Victor’s gaze settles on me, and I shrink in my chair like every fiber in my body is resisting catching the illness we both already share.

“Do you want to try water, too?” he asks delicately, like he wants me to but knows I’ll reject it.

I give my head a little shake and mumble, “I don’t drink water. I’m a vampire.”

He gives me a single, agreeing nod. Darkness glistens at the edge of his nostril before he sniffles and half-turns to disguise how he searches for a handkerchief that is absent from his pocket. Instead, he wipes his nose on his white sleeve before accepting the refreshed glass from Daisy and gulping it down.

The moment he sets it on the counter, Daisy asks, “So?”

Victor rubs his palm against his cheek and sighs. “My thirst refuses to be quelled, but the flavor was nothing to complain about. The cold was briefly soothing, and it’s giving me the illusion of being full despite how thin water is compared to blood . . .”

Daisy purses her lips. “Maybe you should test food—” The rest of her words rush out of her as he recoils. “For more data.”

Victor glowers at her half-eaten sandwich on the table like a Victorian baker had poisoned it and sent it into the future.

A sly smile glides over Daisy’s lips, and his eyes narrow.

“Did you like chocolate cake as a human, Dr. Todd?” she asks.