She hissed and spun around, her robe's hem flaring out. Lassiter had come through the pantry without her knowing and was filling the open doorway, his blond-and-black hair and his gold piercings catching the light of the fixture above him.
His knowing eyes were always something to escape from, but at least at the moment, that white stare was not on her.
Crossing her arms over her chest and tucking her hands into the robe's sleeves, she resumed her own regard of Tohrment. "In truth, I do not know how he is still fighting. "
"It's time to stop pussyfooting around with him. "
She wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but took a guess. "There are Chosen here who make themselves available for feeding. Surely he could use one of them?"
"You'd fucking think. "
Standing in concert, their focus wavered for but a moment as Wrath, the Blind King, appeared at the head of the stairs and walked down to the assembled. He was dressed for war, too, and his beloved dog was not with him - he was led now by his queen, the two in such synchronization that they moved with the same posture, gait, poise.
Tohrment had had that once, she thought.
"I wish there was some way of helping him," she murmured. "I would do anything to see him with aid as opposed to alone in his suffering. "
"Do you mean that," came a dark response.
"Of course. "
Lassiter put his face in her vision. "Do you really mean that. "
She went to take a step back, but found herself blocked by the jamb. "Yes. . . "
The angel put his palm out for her to clasp. "Swear to it. "
No'One frowned. "I do not understand - "
"You maintain you would do anything - I want you to swear to that. " Now those white eyes burned. "We've stalled out since the spring, and we didn't have endless time back then. You say you want to save him, and I want you to commit to that - no matter what it takes. "
Abruptly, as if the memory had been purposely put in her mind - perhaps by the angel, more likely by her conscience - she remembered those moments after her birthing of Xhexania, when her physical pain and her mental anguish had been one and the same, the balance finally equalized as the agony in her heart for all she had lost was made manifest in her very core. . . .
Unable to bear her burdens, she had taken Tohrment's dagger from his chest holster and used it in a way that had made him scream.
His hoarse cry had been the last thing she'd heard.
Staring up at the angel, she wasn't stupid, and she was no longer naive. "You are suggesting I feed him. "
"Yeah. I am. It's time to take this to the next level. "
No'One had to steel herself before she looked back at Tohrment. But as she took in his frail body, she came to a resolve: He had buried her. . . so surely she could force herself to accept him at her vein in order to give him life.
Assuming he would agree to take what was offered.
Assuming she could make herself.
Indeed, even in the hypothetical, her body trembled at the thought, but her mind rejected the response of her flesh. This was not a male interested in anything from her. In fact, he would be the only male she could safely feed.
"A Chosen's blood would be purer," she heard herself say.
"And get us nowhere. "
No'One shook her head, refusing to read anything into that statement. Then she took the angel's hand. "I shall serve his blood needs, if he comes to me. "
Lassiter bowed ever so slightly. "I'll take care of that part. And I'm going to hold you to this. "
"You shall not have to. My vow is my vow. "