Chapter 177: Small Fry

Chapter 177: Chapter 177: Small Fry

Chapter 177: Small Fry

Cyrus Calder lost focus for no more than a second.

That was enough.

Vera Sable’s face suddenly filled his vision.

At this distance, the faint sweetness that always seemed to cling to her became impossible to ignore. Cyrus barely had time to register that she had moved before Vera closed the remaining distance between them.

His eyes widened.

What was this woman doing now?

He instinctively started to pull away, but then he saw her golden eyes.

There was something unusually stubborn in them, yet Vera looked perfectly lucid.

She had not lost her mind.

At least, not any more than usual.

Then Cyrus tasted something faintly metallic.

Blood.

Before he could react further, images appeared inside his head.

Not vague impressions.

Memories.

Vera’s memories.

At first they came as isolated flashes from the past two days.

The nurse’s office.

Students coming and going.

Vera sitting alone behind her desk.

Her phone.

Her apartment.

Then the fragments connected.

The more of Vera’s blood Cyrus tasted, the clearer the images became.

It was nothing like recalling a story someone had told him. Cyrus experienced everything from Vera’s own perspective, as though the memories had temporarily been copied directly into his mind.

The scenes moved incredibly quickly.

He could inspect hours of memory with what felt like a single thought.

He saw the day he had visited Vera for suppressants and rejected her offer.

After he left, Vera remained around the nurse’s office for most of the day.

There was no meeting with the dean of students.

No secret conversation.

No message arranging for Cyrus to be investigated.

Then came the moment when the dean confronted Cyrus in the hallway.

Vera really had stepped outside at almost exactly the wrong time.

Afterward, she had become curious herself.

Cyrus watched her investigate who had reported his job.

Eventually she learned that the dean had received an anonymous complaint submitted by a student.

The sender’s identity was unknown.

If the memories were genuine, Vera had not reported him.

Cyrus searched for some sign of fabrication.

There was none.

The memories included things Vera had no reason to show him.

Long stretches of ordinary boredom.

Private conversations.

Her evening at home.

Even moments so mundane and personal that inventing them merely to fool Cyrus would have required an absurd amount of effort.

The memories felt lived in.

Messy.

Complete.

His only remaining reason to doubt them was that they came from Vera.

Somewhere along the way, Cyrus had started assuming deception whenever she was involved.

This time, apparently, he might actually have been wrong.

Vera finally pulled back.

Before completely separating, she gave him one last irritated look, as though she still had not forgiven him for suspecting her.

Cyrus wiped the corner of his mouth.

Red stained his fingers.

He had not felt himself being injured.

That meant the blood belonged to Vera.

His expression changed slightly.

Bloodborn could steal or read memories through blood.

Apparently they could also transmit their own memories to someone else.

That was considerably more useful than he expected.

Another question immediately followed.

If a Bloodborn consumed memories taken from another person, did those memories eventually become part of the Bloodborn’s own blood too?

That possibility was worth remembering.

Cyrus noticed the images inside his head beginning to lose a little clarity as the taste faded.

Then Vera pointed sharply at him.

"Do not swallow it."

Cyrus looked at her.

He deliberately raised his chin.

His throat moved.

Vera stared.

Cyrus swallowed.

The memories sharpened again almost immediately.

That confirmed it.

The blood really was carrying them.

Vera’s expression became dangerous.

Cyrus, meanwhile, looked almost impressed.

"That’s useful."

Vera’s canines ached.

He had ignored her warning in the most deliberate way possible.

Worse, the slight movement of his head had exposed the pale line of his throat again.

For a moment, Vera imagined sinking her teeth directly into it simply out of spite.

She could tolerate Cyrus becoming annoyed after she actually did something to deserve it.

What she could not tolerate was being blamed before she had even done anything.

She had come all the way here because his expression at school bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

That cold look had made one possibility suddenly feel real.

If Cyrus decided she was too dangerous and stopped letting her anywhere near his blood, Vera would lose far more than a source of entertainment.

And proving herself had cost her something too.

She had just used her own blood to transfer memories.

She had even crossed a personal boundary she had never expected to cross simply to make him believe her.

Yet Cyrus was standing there looking more curious about the Bloodborn ability than anything else.

Vera forced herself to calm down.

"Now you know I wasn’t responsible."

Cyrus nodded.

"Yes."

Vera waited for more.

Nothing came.

Her eye twitched slightly.

"Then change into your younger form and let me have two drinks."

Cyrus stared at her.

"What does that have to do with proving your innocence?"

Vera’s playful tone returned.

"You need suppressants right now."

Cyrus said nothing.

"And you cannot find them anywhere else."

Vera lightly tapped the bag she had brought with her.

"You also probably don’t want to lose control of your Frostborn biology somewhere public."

Cyrus narrowed his eyes.

That wording sounded annoyingly familiar.

Vera smiled.

"You’re thinking there must be other suppliers."

That was exactly what Cyrus had been thinking.

Vera continued before he could answer.

"My family has worked in medicine for generations. I won’t claim we control everything, but when it comes to rare-blood medication, what I give you is stronger than most ordinary products."

Cyrus listened.

"If you switch to something produced for the general market, it might still work, but the dosage will probably be different."

Vera shrugged.

"One box might last you two days instead of much longer."

Cyrus considered that seriously.

His online order was scheduled to arrive tomorrow afternoon.

There was no reason he could not wait and test Vera’s claim himself.

If she was lying, he would know soon enough.

"If I agree to anything, I’m not changing forms."

Vera folded her arms.

"Then I choose where I feed."

"No."

"In that case, pretend I never came."

Vera turned toward the door without hesitation.

Cyrus watched her.

That response surprised him slightly.

He had suspected Vera might be maneuvering toward some larger demand.

Instead, she seemed perfectly willing to leave when the negotiation failed.

Whatever else could be said about her, she had also come here when she did not strictly need to.

She had proved she had not reported him.

If Vera only cared about getting blood, she could have simply waited until Cyrus became desperate enough to return.

Cyrus exhaled.

"Wait."

Vera stopped immediately.

She had expected that.

Everything she had told him about the medication was true.

If Cyrus still insisted on being difficult after she had come here to clear up the misunderstanding, then Vera had been prepared to become significantly less polite.

Fortunately, it seemed unnecessary.

She turned back.

Cyrus looked resigned.

Vera could have chosen not to explain herself at all.

Instead, she had come.

Maybe the school nurse really did only want transactions on terms she considered fair.

And if Cyrus were an ordinary human, Vera probably would never be this fixated on his blood in the first place.

That part was more the fault of Frostborn biology than anything else.

"Fine."

Cyrus closed his eyes.

"Do it."

Vera’s throat moved.

Fresh Frostborn blood was finally within reach.

She walked around behind him.

Cyrus stood near the edge of the bed, eyes still closed.

He could feel Vera’s breath against the back of his neck.

Then came the pressure of her canines.

The familiar Bloodborn effect followed almost immediately.

Pain vanished beneath a wave of unnatural weakness and warmth.

Cyrus’s knees nearly gave.

His thoughts blurred.

At the same time, the physical reactions he had been fighting all morning surged again.

The two suppressant pills had taken off the worst edge, but they were nowhere near enough.

Unwanted instinct pushed through the fog.

Cyrus gritted his teeth.

He wanted Vera to finish quickly.

If she drank enough to make him sleep, then at least he would no longer have to wrestle with his own body.

Behind him, Vera was too absorbed in the taste to notice the problem immediately.

Cyrus’s blood was every bit as addictive as she remembered.

Then something changed.

Heat gathered unexpectedly inside her.

Vera froze.

That was wrong.

Bloodborn did not react like this.

She tried to pull back, but the effect had already spread.

The same unstable drive Cyrus had been suppressing seemed to have transferred through the blood.

By the time Vera finally broke away, her breathing had become uneven and her thoughts were no longer clear.

Cyrus collapsed onto the bed, dizzy from blood loss.

His vision blurred.

Through the haze, he saw Vera standing nearby with an expression that reminded him disturbingly of someone else he knew.

"Vera..."

His voice was weak.

"Do not do anything stupid."

She heard him.

That did not mean the warning reached the part of her mind still capable of making good decisions.

The room dissolved into confusion after that.

Vera’s borrowed Frostborn impulse collided with Cyrus’s own uncontrolled condition, and the boundaries both of them should have kept became impossible to manage.

What followed was chaotic, unsafe, and badly judged on both sides.

At one point the balance of control shifted completely.

Vera’s earlier confidence disappeared.

Cyrus’s suppressed instincts surged once his strength partially returned, and neither of them handled the situation rationally.

By the time the episode finally burned itself out, both were exhausted.

Silence settled over the apartment.

Cyrus eventually regained enough clarity to sit up.

Vera remained sprawled across the bed, looking as though she had personally lost an argument with every bad decision she had ever made.

Cyrus rubbed his face.

Now that his mind was functioning again, one detail stood out.

Vera’s condition had looked familiar.

Too familiar.

But Vera was definitely Bloodborn.

Bloodborn were not supposed to suffer from the same overwhelming biological drive that Frostborn could experience.

There was one explanation that made sense.

She had fed from him while his suppressants were effectively gone and his Frostborn biology was already in an unstable state.

Maybe his blood had temporarily carried that trait with it.

Cyrus stared at her.

So Bloodborn could absorb more than memories.

Wonderful.

Yet another complication nobody had bothered putting in a guidebook.

His stomach growled.

Cyrus looked toward the lunch Vera had carried inside earlier.

The fish in pickled mustard broth had gone completely cold.

He cleaned himself up, heated what he could, then sat at the small table and started eating anyway.

It still tasted good.

Halfway through the meal, Cyrus glanced toward the bed.

Vera remained motionless.

He thought about everything that had happened and came to one extremely simple conclusion.

She really was terrible at controlling herself.

For a medical professional, that was embarrassing.

As if sensing the insult from across the room, Vera suddenly jolted awake.

She sat up and looked around in alarm.

Her memories caught up with her a few seconds later.

Then she noticed Cyrus calmly eating at the table.

Their eyes met.

Cyrus looked at the food.

Then at Vera.

Vera immediately pulled the blanket closer around herself.

"What are you planning?"

Her voice contained genuine caution now.

Cyrus pointed toward the bowl.

"Pickled fish."

His finger slowly shifted toward Vera.

His expression remained perfectly calm.

Then he delivered the second half.

"Small fry."