Vampires Realm Prophecy 01 - Child of Light

strong but it carried even stronger visions. She didn’t know whether he’d be able to take them right now and there was a chance she wouldn’t be able to suppress them if he did drink from her.
    “Do not even think about it,” he said and she looked at him. “I will heal.”
    “But—”
    “I said no,” he interjected. “There is blood in the refrigerator. I can drink that.”
    She frowned and went into the living area to retrieve the blood. She stared at it and then at her wrist. If she removed her blood from her body, he wouldn’t receive visions when he drank it and he wouldn’t know the difference. It would be warmer than the blood from the refrigerator, but he probably wouldn’t realise until it was too late.
    She extended her claws and punctured her wrist with her thumbnail. Holding her wrist over the glass, she watched the blood trickle from her. When the glass was almost full, she licked the cut clean, sealing it with her saliva. She bit into the packet of blood she was holding and swallowed most of the contents before adding a small amount to the top of the blood in the glass. She smiled at her plan. Now he would be none the wiser to what she’d done. He’d smell the bought blood and not hers, and the first thing he’d taste would be ice cold. He wouldn’t suspect a thing.
    She kept her face straight as she carried it into the bedroom. He was sitting against the pillows on the bed, his shirt now completely off, and was inspecting the wound. He looked up when she approached and she held out the glass, willing her hand not to shake. He took it from her. She held her breath when he sniffed at it and then relaxed as he drank it all down in one go. She took the empty glass and placed it into the bowl of dirty water.
    Carrying it into the bathroom, she removed the glass and washed both it and the bowl out.
    Valentine had moved, leaning at an awkward angle against the headboard to avoid putting any weight on his hurt shoulder.
    She rounded the bed, picked up his ruined shirt and her tunic top and threw them into his bath. She walked into her own room, looking for something she could use as a bandage for his wound until they found something more suitable tomorrow night. She remembered that they had to go see the witches and swallowed noisily as her shoulders, stomach and chest ached and burned with pain. She clutched her shoulders, her eyes shut tight as cold fire swept through her veins.
    When it receded, she took deep breaths and focused back on helping Valentine. She looked at the array of cards on the dressing table that mentioned all the different services the hotel offered and smiled when she found what she was looking for.
    She paused briefly at Valentine’s door.
    “I won’t be long,” she said and didn’t wait for him to say anything before heading to the door of their suite and opening it.
    Hurrying down the stairs, she went to the lobby and scoured it for a sign of the shop mentioned on the cards. She spotted it down the corridor to her left and went to it, breathing a sigh of relief when she found that it was open. She wished she’d known about it before she’d started cleaning him up; she might have been able to save her tunic top. She filled a little basket with bandages and cotton wool pads, and was about to go to the counter when she spotted bottles of liquid soap. She tossed one into her basket, intent on getting the blood out of her top.
    She gave the woman behind the counter her room number and then smiled as best she could when she was handed her purchases in a little plastic bag.
    She rushed back to the room and pushed the door open.
    “Prophecy? What in the Devil’s name... ” Valentine trailed off when she walked around the corner, put the bag down on the end of the bed and tipped its contents out.
    “Pharmacy,” she said with a smile. “Sit up.”
    He was still frowning at her. She stared straight back, showing him that she wasn’t going to let him tell her off for leaving the suite alone.
    “I wasn’t gone long, and I was careful.” She emphasised the last part so he didn’t have a reason to be angry with her.
    He responded by sitting up, his good hand tightly holding his injured arm while he shuffled towards the edge of the bed.
    Concentrating on her work, she opened the pack of cotton wool pads and the crepe bandages. She wrapped a couple of the pads in some of the bandage to stop bits from entering the wound or sticking to the blood and then pressed