Essence (Nectar 3)

Tristan scooped Kyla up in his arms and carried her back upstairs to that bedroom. She’d lost more weight. She was too thin. Her skin was too pale. She was frail. She was rapidly declining.

He gently put her on her back on the bed and looked down at her. He felt sick inside. He had no desire to taste her blood, knowing it was infused with her brother’s, and he certainly didn’t want to touch her sexually right now. She was a limp lifeless shell of the girl he fell in love with. He got into the bed and pulled her close and just breathed in her hair, breathed in the scent of her skin, which was a little different than even yesterday, due to the change in her blood composition and the fact that she was so ill. He felt his senses sharpen. He didn’t have diagnostic skills with her but they were stronger today than they had been with her and she smelled like she was fading away, fast. She was wilting like a dying flower.

“Come back to me, princess,” he pleaded, “please.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. But he figured her word held no meaning.

He held her a while and then leaned over to her throat, “I’ve gotta taste you, baby.”

“Uh huh.”

Bile rose in his throat at the idea but he forced himself. When he swallowed his first mouthful there was barely anything there. Not the desperation, and confusion he’d been feeling, not even the hunger that he’d gotten earlier as the primary emotion.

She was barely even there.

A pounding began, behind his eyes. The blood tasted similar to Kyla’s with some nuances but feeling almost nothing coming at him? This wasn’t like the night he’d turned her. This was as if she was just fading away into nothing. Kyle’s blood wasn’t helping her. It wasn’t doing a goddamn thing!She was gonna die. She was fucking fading away.He got out of the bed, opened the door, and hollered, “Sam!”

Sam was there quickly; Tristan knew he’d been on the outer deck smoking a cigarette.

“Get your sister.”

Sam and Sasha were both inside the doorway a moment later. Tristan was pacing.

“She’s worse. She’s fucking fading. I can barely even fucking feel a thing but what I can feel, it’s not good.”

“She might still have some sedative in her blood. Maybe try again in an hour? She’s not convulsing. And we can give her more of Kyle’s blood. He---”

“She’s catatonic!” Tristan snapped, “I can’t hardly feel a fucking thing! She’s dying! More blood isn’t gonna help if what she’s had so far hasn’t done a damn thing!”

He didn’t wanna say it but felt like an hour would just mean further decline.

“Did you try, uh…” Sasha started.

“No. Not doing… no.” Tristan waved his arms. He was disgusted at the notion, even, because unlike the day before when she was all over him, he knew it’d be different. He just knew in his gut that she’d lie there like a limp noodle and he would feel like a fucking sicko for even touching her in a sexual way. He also knew that if he dared try and got no reaction from her he’d lose it. It was better not knowing. But he knew. He knew it would bring her nothing and him nothing but pain.

Touching her yesterday, her going wild for him, it might’ve been the last time. It might’ve been a parting gift. And fuck that he’d taken her on her knees from behind and not seen her beautiful eyes go lucid for a minute.

What a fucking mess.

My mess.

He’d forever be haunted by the ghost of her in his mind.

He wanted to go back and fix this mess by making different decisions, by not trusting anyone, ever, by not letting anyone influence his decisions. By never stepping foot on Adrian Constantin’s property, by ripping the throats out of anyone who even glanced her way. He pushed back the rage that he was an inch away from unleashing on Sam for convincing him to go to Constantin’s in the first place.

Not yet.

Sasha moved in front of Sam. She knew Tristan was holding on by a thread and out of her twin connection, she felt moved to protect her brother.

He read fear and protectiveness for her brother. He looked deep into her eyes, “You care for Kyla like she’s your own. Like your very life depends on it. And it does. Do not let her die!”

Sasha nodded, “Absolutely. You have my promise that I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe for you. But why are you asking me this? Are you going somewhere?”

“I’ll be back,” Tristan dug through the duffle bag on the dresser and pulled his wallet and passport out and then grabbed the satellite phone.

“Where’re ya goin’, bro?” Sam put his hand on Tristan’s shoulder.