Harrow looked up at the sound of her footsteps, his eyes unfocused. His sunglasses were on the table, and his eyes were almost opaque in color when they settled on her. He sat up on the bed.
“Jordan, please go away.” He hissed and moved back when she approached. Her movement was slow and calculated. She was unwilling to startle him into action.
“Darling, I need to draw blood from you,” Jordan said, as if appeasing a crying child with sweet offerings.
His fangs were incredibly long. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she thought she saw them throb right before her very eyes. It had been almost two weeks since he’d last fed, and it looked like he had reached his limit.
Harrow licked his dried, chapped lips and inched away from her. The lesions on his arms, legs, and around his neck were raw, almost glowing red and had grown bigger. He gritted his teeth as if to dispel the demons of his disease. Jordan was certain it had something to do with the burning pain from the wounds as well as the pang of hunger. Starvation was a tough opponent, because it would eat you up alive and spew out your carcass after it finished you off.
“Make it quick, because I’m trying hard here.” Harrow appeared bone tired, his tone weary as he held out his arm after he made sure she was wearing gloves. “Move fast,” he reminded her as he eyed her jugular. The pulsing clearly began to excite him.
“I know you won’t hurt me.” She kept her voice low and held his arm. He was burning hot, and she felt like her hands would melt on contact. Harrow rested his arm on his thigh as she tried to keep her hands steady.
Harrow drew in a deep breath before exhaling with a curse. “Hurry up, Jordan.”
Once she stuck the needle into his skin, Harrow hissed and began twitching again. After she filled the evacuated collection tube with blood, she pulled out the needle and applied a little pressure to the entry site with her finger before taping it up.
“Get out now!” he screamed. “Now!”
Before she stepped away, she held his gaze for a moment and whispered the words she’d been dying to tell him.
“I love you, Harrow.”
Time stood still as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Harrow’s breathing slowed, and his twitching ceased for just a moment. “I love you more,” he said. “But please, get out of this room now.”
He didn’t scream the order, he whispered it as if it was a last ditch effort before he turned savage. Jordan walked out the door, which Leroy held open for her. Her heart was aching, but at the same time, it was soaring. How could her heart sing and lament at the same time?