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Mila blinked. Then she inclined her head like the future princess she was. “Thank you. I’m a lucky woman,” she said with a sidelong glance at me, as Mom beamed, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“Remember what I told you, honey,” she said.
Mila nodded. “Don’t fight it,” she repeated. “Breathe, and let the blood take me where it wants me to go.”
The sun was sinking fast. It bobbed above the deep-blue ocean, a burning ball in the wash of purple and pink and orange. As night spread its dark wings across the cliff, my shoulders tightened.
“It’s time,” said Father. He sliced open his wrist and offered it to Mila while I watched, hands fisted at my sides.
She didn’t hesitate, simply stepped forward, set her mouth to his wrist and drank.
“More,” he urged. “More.”
I had to turn away.
“It’s begun,” Mom murmured.
I swung back. If Mila was brave enough to go through with this, then the least I could do was stand as witness.
She straightened away from my father. She gave me a wobbly grin, and then groaned. I felt her agony clear to the center of my being. Her breath scraped in and she sank to the ground, shivering.
I grated out her name. My fingers opened, closed. I ached to hold her, to soothe her. I even took a step forward, although I knew I shouldn’t.
“No.” Mom gripped my arm. “It will just hurt more if you touch her.”
My stomach knotted, but I remained where I was.
“Gabriel,” Mila croaked.
I crouched next to her. “What, cher?”
“Nothing.” Her lips lifted in a painful imitation of a smile. “Just…Gabriel.” She groaned again, and then her eyes shut. She curled into a shaking, shuddering ball.
I dropped my head back, stared at the navy sky. The first stars pricked out, cool and bright.
Inside, an anguished howl pressed against my throat, fighting for release until I could barely breathe. I clamped down on it. I wouldn’t add to Mila’s pain by letting out my own.
“Leave us,” I told my parents. “I’ll be all right, I promise. She asked that I be the only witness.”
Mom searched my face. “If you’re sure…”
When I nodded, she opened her arms. I stood up and she gave me a hard hug.
“It won’t last long,” she murmured. “In a little while, she’ll pass out.”
I nodded, tight-lipped. “I know.”
Our eyes met. Because soon after that, Mila would die.
On the sandy ground, she curled more tightly into herself, making low, animal-like sounds that made my bowels clench.
I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against my mom’s. “Gods, she’s hurting so bad.”
Mom squeezed me again, and then released me. “It will be okay,cher. I know it.”
My father stepped forward to give me an awkward pat on the back. “Your woman will make it. My blood is strong.”
I nodded. For once, my father’s arrogance didn’t piss me off. I just prayed he was correct.
