Ruler [Blood Magic, Book 3]

Chapter 33: An Honest Man

I was sitting on the edge of bed when Bruce showed up. If my disappearance had aged my father, it'd had the opposite effect on Bruce. He'd sprung a few new muscles since I'd last seen him; that they were noticeable under his grey T-shirt was a clear testament to just how much he'd been working out. 

As I studied him, he took in the royal chambers from a safe location just inside the door. From the methodical way he scanned the room, cataloguing vantage points and potential barricades, I knew this was the first time he'd been invited here.

"Where's your vampire?" Bruce's voice was harder than I'd ever heard it, but I understood. He was angry, not only had I run away but now I'd dragged Ephraim and him into this, right into the Nosferatu lair, in fact.  

"Not here," I said. "You look good."

"Not sure I can say the same."

That stung. When it came to Bruce and my father, I'd always thought of Bruce as my advocate, now it looked like I might have an opening to fill. A potent mixture of sadness and anger rippled through my chest, making it hard to breathe. How much worse was this day going to get?

Bruce remained planted by the door, as if his feet had sprung roots. 

"What are you afraid I'm going to do?" I asked, hating that he looked at me like he was eyeing a threat. 

He shrugged. "There are a lot of unknowns about what has been done to you. Do you fault me for being cautious?"

"No, but I need your help. I want to know something, actually lots of things, but this thing first."

"Okay," Bruce said, still wary.

"Do you have your blade on you or did they take your weapons?" Bruce always carried a small switchblade on him, sometimes in his jeans, other times in the custom pocket sewn into his right boot. I suspected he also slept with it under his pillow. 

"I have it."

"Cut your finger with it."

Bruce cast an assessing look at the door. "Why?"

"Because I have to know." Please don't make me say it out loud, I thought. It was hard enough just having to ask this.

Bruce didn't move.

"Come on," I begged. "For Christ's sake, I'm not going to eat you. I'm not even hungry. I've been fed."

His arm twitched.

"Bruce, do this one thing for me and I swear the only other thing we'll do is talk." I was starting to sound irrational and crazy, but I had to know.

Bruce crouched down and removed his switchblade from his boot. He kept his eyes on me the entire time. With the flick of his finger, the blade opened in fast swish-click. "I'll do this," Bruce said, "but understand I will also use this on you if I have to."

"Whatever. You won't have to," I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. Even if I found the scent appealing, I doubted I'd ravage him. My father had smelled more than delicious and I'd failed to turn into a mindless, slobbering monster. And, no matter what Bruce smelled like, it wouldn't be that, so I had confidence to burn. "What the hell has my father said to make you think I'm some sort of feral beast?"

Bruce gave me an odd look. "Nothing. He's been in meetings since you awoke."

"Then what the actual hell?"

"Vampires put me on edge. A compound full of them, led by a Nosferatu with magic doubly so."

"But you were fine with Keel," I said, remembering how quick they'd become buddy-buddy after Keel and I escaped from the compound.

"He was half-human back then."

"And I'm not a vampire."

Bruce pointed his index finger towards me, wiggling it in the direction of my mouth. "Fangs say otherwise."

I threw myself back on the mattress in an exaggerated flop. "Goddammit, Bruce, don't lay this trip on me now. Don't you think I don't know how messed up this is? I'm the one it's happening to." A tangy coppery smell drifted across my nostrils, it had something delicious unpinning it - my father, I realized, and then nearly gagged at how gross that was, now that there was nothing intoxicating around to dull the rational, normal parts of my brain - but I had to work to get more than a hint of it. I sat up. Bruce was standing in the same place he had been since he entered, holding a bloody finger up in the air.

"Doin' nothing for me," I said. "Can I come closer?"

He nodded.

I got up and moved towards him, taking a series of slow, steady steps, keeping eye contact at all times. "May I?" I said when I reached him, extending my hand towards his bleeding one.

"Go ahead."

I pulled it close to my nose, and for a split second I thought I saw Bruce cringe a little, then I inhaled. Same scent as before. "Still nothing. I smell human, a tiny bit of sorcerer, but I don't want to eat you."

Some of the tension went out of Bruce's arm.

"You're colder," he said.

"Oh, I hadn't noticed."

"I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," I said, before adding, "Thank you. And see, I'm not a vampire."

"Okay, fair enough, you're not a vampire." It sounded like he was just saying that to placate me, and I wasn't in the mood.

"If you're going to be like that, just go," I said. "I mean, I always thought you- I don't know, were the more enlightened one out of you and my dad, but I'm thinking maybe I had that wrong. But you know what? I just can't with this right now."

"What do you want me to say, Mills?"

"I don't know. 'Sucks to be you,' maybe. Or 'How can I help?'"

Bruce said neither of those things. He came back with something else: "It's not the end of the world."

I shot him a look of daggers. "I'm a monster. More of one than I was before. Your whole little freak out here proves it."

"You're mad."

"You think?"

"Like we've discussed before, living in the supernatural world comes with a lot of costs. You should be dead. You're not. This is the invoice for that and you don't get to choose how you pay it."

"I understand that," I said, "But what if I can't?"

"I'm not sure you have much of a choice. Not anymore." 

"You have a terrible bedside manner, Bruce," I said, pushing past to him to the door. "Thanks for all the kind, reassuring words."

I needed air. If I didn't get some air, I was going to hit him, and then he would hit me back, and I had no idea how that would end. I also had no idea why Bruce was being such a freakshow, but I couldn't deal with it, not right now, not on top of everything else. I needed to be outside, topside, sucking down real air, not this recycled Nosferatu stuff. And I needed to see something bigger, wider and more open above me than this ceiling. If not, I was going to crawl out of my skin, or maybe just start screaming and never stop.