Chapter 143: The Unconscious Blood Bag

Chapter 143: Chapter 143: The Unconscious Blood Bag

Chapter 143: The Unconscious Blood Bag

Vera Sable had already turned toward the door when Cyrus Calder called her back.

His thoughts were moving quickly.

When Vera first mentioned memory loss at school, Cyrus had assumed she knew something about the ring. She had immediately blamed his medication afterward, making it seem like she had only been guessing.

At the time, her explanation had been believable enough.

Now things were different.

Vera had transformed in front of him. Gray hair, golden eyes, sharpened teeth, and a direct admission that she was Bloodborn were much harder to dismiss than one suspicious question in the nurse’s office.

More importantly, she had identified the ring as something likely made by her own bloodline.

One taste of blood in exchange for the method to remove it was an extremely favorable trade if she was telling the truth.

By Cyrus’s latest count, eleven years of memory were already gone. He had no way to predict when another section would disappear. It might happen after another deep sleep, another forced state of unconsciousness, or under conditions he had not identified yet.

If he could remove the ring, the entire problem might finally end.

There was also a certain detective sitting restrained in her apartment who was probably getting a very thorough lesson in how unpleasant losing freedom could be.

Cyrus could deal with that afterward.

He focused on Vera.

"Hold on."

Vera turned with a pleased little sound.

Cyrus made his decision.

"I agree to the trade."

Her appearance changed almost immediately.

Gray spread through her dark hair again, and gold filled her eyes. The sharpened canines returned as well. She looked far too prepared for someone who had supposedly been willing to walk away.

Cyrus narrowed his attention slightly.

"You really know how to remove the ring, right?"

"Of course I know something useful."

Vera’s answer came without hesitation.

Cyrus remained cautious.

"Will anything happen to me after you drink my blood?"

Vera smiled.

"This is not a vampire movie. Bloodborn feed on blood, and that is all you need to worry about."

So basically a mosquito with better manners.

Cyrus kept that thought to himself.

After another brief hesitation, he exhaled.

"Then get it over with."

"With pleasure."

Vera approached immediately.

She stepped behind him.

Cyrus turned his head slightly.

"Can you use my arm instead?"

Vera stopped.

"If that is your condition, I can always leave."

Cyrus looked at her over his shoulder.

She was serious about that part.

He reluctantly turned back.

"Then use somewhere safe."

A pleased hum sounded behind him.

Vera’s attention settled on the exposed side of his neck.

"If it makes you feel any better, this is actually my first time using these teeth on someone directly."

Cyrus went still.

"That does not make me feel better. Please hurry."

Vera smiled wider.

Direct feeding from a living person was new to her.

If she had complete confidence in her own control, she would have chosen the neck immediately without hesitation. The pulse there was stronger, the blood fresher, and the experience far closer to what older Bloodborn described.

Cyrus also happened to smell better the closer she got.

Vera leaned toward him.

The tip of her tongue brushed lightly across his skin.

Cyrus stiffened.

"What are you doing?"

"You should forgive a beginner for checking where to bite."

Her voice came close beside his ear.

"Try not to move. If you jerk suddenly, I might hit something more important than I intend."

That was not reassuring either.

Vera swallowed.

Her sharpened teeth settled against his neck.

For several seconds, she did nothing.

Cyrus could feel the faint pressure of the points against his skin, but no pain followed. Instead, Vera seemed determined to drag the moment out.

Her tongue brushed him again.

Her breathing had changed too.

It was heavier now, the controlled teasing thinning beneath obvious hunger.

Cyrus was about to tell her to stop wasting time.

The bite came first.

A sharp sting punched through his neck.

The sound that escaped Cyrus stayed low in his throat.

The pain lasted less than an instant.

Then his body reacted in a way he had not expected.

Warmth spread outward from the bite, followed by a strange sensation that was almost pleasurable. His muscles loosened against his will. Instead of producing the instinct to pull away, the feeding seemed to encourage his body to remain where it was.

Worse, some primitive part of him wanted Vera to continue.

Cyrus immediately recognized that something was wrong.

He could hear her swallowing.

Again.

And again.

His expression changed.

She had promised one taste.

This was no longer one taste.

Cyrus tried to pull away.

His body barely responded.

Strength drained out of his limbs with alarming speed. His knees felt unreliable, and even lifting an arm required more effort than it should have.

The room blurred slightly.

Vera continued drinking.

Cyrus forced his voice out.

"You said... only one."

The words came weakly.

Vera either did not hear him or had completely stopped caring.

The steady swallowing beside his ear continued.

Cyrus tried again to move.

His arms felt heavier.

His thoughts were beginning to slow.

That was when genuine alarm finally broke through the unnatural calm spreading through his body.

This woman had lied to him.

He had known she was suspicious.

He had known her interest in his blood was abnormal.

He had even questioned whether Bloodborn feeding carried other effects.

Yet he had still agreed because the ring mattered too much.

His vision darkened around the edges.

The last resistance went out of his body.

Before consciousness disappeared entirely, one final thought passed through Cyrus’s mind.

He really should never have trusted Vera.

Vera was far beyond listening by then.

The blood passing over her tongue was even better than the sample she had stolen during the school physical.

There was no comparison.

Blood stored in a tube had given her enough of a taste to understand that Cyrus was unusual. Drinking directly from him was something else entirely.

Warm, fresh, and carrying his living presence with it.

Vera had intended to take only enough to satisfy the agreement.

That plan had lasted very little time.

When Cyrus’s body started sagging forward, she caught him automatically with one arm and supported his weight without stopping.

Only after the hunger finally eased did Vera force herself to pull away.

She held Cyrus against her and slowly licked the trace of blood from the corner of her mouth.

This was the proper way to drink.

Even the finest liquor deserved the right glass. Cyrus’s blood deserved something better than a medical tube.

Vera glanced toward his neck.

The tiny punctures were already closing.

Within moments, the wounds disappeared almost completely, leaving only a faint flush against his pale skin.

Vera touched the area with curiosity.

"So that is the little compensation."

Bloodborn feeding apparently left less damage than the bite itself suggested, especially on someone who healed as quickly as Cyrus.

She shifted his weight.

Getting him to the bed required more effort than she expected, but she eventually managed it.

Cyrus remained completely unconscious.

Vera pulled the blanket over him and smiled.

"Get some sleep, my little blood bag."

He obviously could not hear her.

That did not stop her from enjoying the line.

Now that she had finished feeding, her curiosity moved somewhere else.

Vera looked around the apartment.

She already knew from the memories in his blood that Cyrus kept a diary.

Finding it was not difficult.

She opened the nightstand and took it out.

The first pages immediately made her laugh.

The handwriting matched the fragments she had seen almost perfectly.

Bloodborn memory reading was never as clean as people might imagine.

Blood usually carried images rather than complete recordings. A face. A room. A sudden fear. A hand reaching for something. A particularly strong sentence might survive, but entire conversations rarely did.

Human memory itself was incomplete.

Nobody remembered every detail of an ordinary day, much less every thought attached to each movement.

A week became fragments.

A month became fewer fragments.

Years became scattered scenes.

The ring, from what Vera understood, worked differently.

Cyrus created another exception.

His memory was unusually strong, and the diary filled in what the blood could not.

Vera read several entries.

The missing pieces began connecting.

She closed her eyes briefly and returned to the images carried in Cyrus’s blood.

Now she understood what he had been doing before coming home today.

A slow smile spread across her face.

"This is ridiculous."

Rhea Maddox restrained in her own apartment.

Daphne Whitlock being carefully maneuvered through guilt.

Audra Sloane and the glamourkin ring.

Cyrus quietly collecting people he considered useful while convincing himself he was merely preparing safeguards.

Vera had expected entertainment.

She had underestimated him.

The landlord teacher was being handled through remorse.

The detective had voluntarily handed Cyrus control and apparently expected something entirely different from what he intended to do with it.

How could that not be entertaining?

More importantly, what happened next?

Vera returned the diary to its place.

Her attention shifted toward Cyrus.

His skin looked paler after the blood loss, though she was not particularly worried.

If she had believed he were an ordinary human, she would never have dared drink that much, even with ten times the courage.

Cyrus was not human.

His Frostborn recovery made the indulgence much safer than it had any right to be.

Vera reached toward his face and brushed the hair away from his forehead.

Without the school disguise hiding him, his features looked far more striking.

Her fingertip moved down toward his neck.

The bite marks were already gone.

Only a faint redness remained where her teeth had entered.

Vera traced that spot lightly.

A quiet, amused murmur filled the apartment.

"I think I might actually be disappointed if she catches you and takes you back."

Her smile deepened.

"So you had better stay interesting for a while longer."

Vera let his hair fall back into place.

Then she turned and left the apartment.

Some unknown amount of time later, a phone vibrating beside the bed finally disturbed the silence.

Cyrus moved weakly.

His hand searched across the nightstand until his fingers found the phone.

Still half unconscious, he answered.

Nobody spoke.

The call remained connected in eerie silence while Cyrus’s thoughts slowly restarted.

Then the caller hung up.

The disconnect tone finally pushed him fully awake.

Cyrus sat upright.

The apartment was dark.

He immediately looked around the empty room and touched his neck.

His fingertips found no wound.

The black sky outside the window made one thing clear, however.

Vera had not been a dream.

Cyrus grabbed the phone and checked the time.

Anger surfaced.

That woman had drained enough blood to leave him unconscious for six hours.

Then another thought struck him.

Rhea was still at home.

Restrained.

Cyrus looked at the call he had just missed properly for the first time.

His expression changed.

The call had come from Rhea.