Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Tristan frowned and went to answer the door. Kyla felt relief flood through her. He was Tristan, for the moment. After a few minutes she saw both men come into view of the camera. Tristan pointed at it.
“Kyla,” Sam greeted and waved at the camera, “Her menstruating obviously triggered some kind of psychotic response from you so let’s keep her in your panic room right now while we sort this out. Chances are it’s blocking her scent. You give me the key---”
“No key. You don’t need the fucking key.” Tristan scowled, folded his arms and stood, looking domineering, and ready to fight.
“Okay,” Sam raised his arms in surrender, “Let’s go for a walk to get some fresh air, get you settled down.”
“I’m not leaving her,” Tristan clipped.
She hit the button, “I need…err…sanitary products. There were none in the things you packed for me.”
“Okay then,” Sam said, clasping hands together, “We have a mission. We’ll head to the store to get Kyla some supplies and we’ll have a chat on the way. Kyla, you okay for 15?”
She hit the intercom button, “Yes.”
Tristan looked bewildered. He glanced in the direction of the camera.
“She’s fine, Tris. You’re fine. Right, sugar?”
“Yes. I’m okay.”
He let Sam lead him out of the view of the camera.
Kyla flopped onto the small bed in the panic room and started to tremble. Hard. What the fuck?
This was messed up. Big time. Once again her short not-much-of-a life had flashed before her eyes. How many times had that happened since meeting Tristan? This relationship was indubitably doomed.
She stared at the green button on the ceiling, her heartbeat chugging in her ears and sounding like a washing machine. They were gone. She could hit that green button and make a run for it. Gone, safe, away from him.
Did she really want to do that? Would she be stupid not to? When they got back how would she know that she was safe to come out? What if Sam was affected the same way Tristan was? That’d mean two scary monster vampires were out to get her.
She rubbed her temples, feeling sick to her stomach. Her future felt like it totally hung in the balance. The green button glared at her. She chewed her lip.
Tristan’s phone started to ring. She looked at it and the name Dawn came up. She ignored it. Then a moment later another number came up without a name assigned to it. She curled back under the blanket and laid there for a while, feeling tormented and conflicted and trying hard to avoid looking at that green button.
“Kyla,” She heard his voice. He was at the camera. Sam was behind him and talking on the phone. She bolted upright and hit the intercom button.
“Yeah?”
He stared into the camera and shook his head, “Baby, don’t be afraid. We’re gonna figure this out. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“What the fuck was that?”
He took a deep breath, “Sam is on the phone with someone who might know. He’s getting information. You okay?”
“Yeah. Um, is that something you usually do? Drink that kind of blood?” She let go of the button and reached into the fridge and found that it was stocked with bottled water, bottles of orange and apple juice as well as some vitamin shakes. There were boxes of granola bars and protein bars, too. The little freezer section had about a dozen IV bags filled with blood.
“No. Never,” he said softly. She glanced at the screen and he looked really confused. She opened a bottle of water and downed it.
She watched the screen. Tristan poured a drink for himself and for Sam. He looked really rattled. He was pacing and running a trembling hand through his hair behind Sam while sipping his drink. Sam was “Umm hmm’ing” on the phone and writing something down.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sam ended his call. Tristan turned from the window and looked at him, all traces of trembling and uncertainty gone. Clearly he didn’t want Sam to see him as weak.
“Well, that was enlightening.” Sam took a swig of the alcohol, “It sounds like menstrual blood is the actual nectar in this scenario. It’s several times more powerful than her blood. To get to it, you probably would have killed her.”
Kyla broke into a cold sweat. But what did he mean “this scenario”?
“There are a few suggestions,” Sam continued, “She stays in the closet until this is done or we try to mask it to see if she can be around you.”
“How?” Tristan asked.
“Tampons or menstrual cups are worn inside a woman’s body. They could mask it, provided you’re not in the vicinity when she changes. It might work.”
“No,” Kyla said through the intercom, “My periods are too heavy. Tampons aren’t enough.”
“Too risky,” Tristan said.
“Then she stays in the closet for a week?” Sam shrugged, “Then go to Adrian’s Arizona compound until her next cycle. He thinks he can help with an experimental concoction he has that may be able to help you be numb to the effects but still reap the benefits. But it has to be tested. Adrian says it can be done in a controlled way. Here are his contact details.” Sam passed Tristan the piece of paper he’d scrawled on during the call.