Rinse [manxman]

Chapter Sixteen

"Bite down."

Mechanically, my teeth came down on his wrist.

"Harder!"

On command, I sank my teeth in a little farther. It was like a balloon in my hands, feeling as if it would burst at any moment.

"You want it." His voice was low and needing. "You want to open me with your teeth and drink from me, just as I have from you."

I held the skin in my mouth, still contemplating it.

"You are mine. There is no part of you that does not belong to me. You want to have some sort of claim on me as well... This is the only way you're getting it." Rough hands gripped my hair and gave it a sharp tug, making me grit my teeth, almost enough to burst that balloon, to tear into his skin.

"Bite me, Sabriel."

I let my teeth sink into the skin of his wrist. As soon as that skin balloon burst, blood rushed into my mouth, hot and acidic, searing my gums and making my teeth throb. I hissed and jerked back. The hand that was still in my hair pinned me down, keeping me against the wound. The blood gushed past my lips, charring them. Searing red lines of it dribbled down my chin.

"Swallow every bit of it. Anything that you miss now, you'll lick up later. Except, I won't be here, so my troops will be here to make sure you do it."

The corners of my mouth burned as I opened wider to ensure I caught every droplet of blood that fell from his wrist. As cruel as Boone was, he wanted me on some level. He appreciated my presence. His troops, however, despised me. They'd torture me for fun when Boone wasn't around. If I could stop that from happening, I had to.

I moaned, sucking at his skin, trying to put a little enthusiasm behind it.

Please, I thought, just leave me alone; just let me have a second to breathe.

Boone snorted softly, and his grip on my hair relaxed. The burning in my mouth only grew stronger.

I sat with my back pressed against Dakota's bedroom door. There was so much going on, so much that kept resurrecting memories I didn't even remember until they erupted behind my eyes, driving me into another room, forcing me to lock myself away as I relived each excruciating detail of what had happened.

There was also the fact that I had to do something about the problem with Boone. The chances that he would come to Lebeaux's safe house that night were slim, and those chances continued to decrease the next day when I would no longer be in the house. Of course, least likely scenarios were not guaranteed to not happen. As much as it made my stomach churn and skin crawl to think about it, I knew that I had a guaranteed way of contacting him and ensuring that he wouldn't come to the house.

The days following that communication was what worried me, though. Rationally thinking, there was no reason to worry. There was a way I could make sure I never had to worry about Boone again. I had to kill him.

That was the only way I could be absolutely certain that he could never touch me again, that he could never lay a finger on Sophia, Farley, Lila, or Dakota to get to me, that he could no longer hurt anyone.

And the only way I knew I could stop him was by utilizing the very abilities he took from me.

I still had them, because I still had my blood—even if it was mixed with Boone's. Once I forced myself to enter that state of mind, it wouldn't be hard to get back into the swing of things, especially after seeing Boone use it against me.