chapter 22: blood-sweet

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The water from the running tap would have brought Sina immense relief. He went to turn it on but stopped when he spotted the knife lying in the basin. Sina reached towards the blade to move it to the side, as he did so, the burning pain vanished and was replaced by a deep stinging from a cut the tip of the knife created when it decided to draw blood. "Motherfu-" Sina cried as vermillion gushed onto the stainless steel.

Grabbing a tea towel, Sina wrapped it around his hand trying to stop the flow. Yet with each pump of his heart, blood escaped through the cut. "The fault, Caleb...." he winced through the dull ache, "is not in our stars, but in ourselves." Sina let out a pained cry as he clung on tightly to his hand as if that would make it stop hurting so damn much. "We've got no fucking chance." He lifted his gaze to the solitary window above the sink and watched as the rain and hail ravish whatever bits of Heaven he could see through a slowly-growing fog. "I may as well put on my pajamas because I'm dreaming if I think you and I will ever end up with any sort of happily-ever-after. A priest and me. Hah. What a joke." Sina raised his gaze higher until it reached the sky. "You'd never have it, huh? Just for once, can't I be happy? What the fuck did I ever do to both of you? I never asked for this. Never asked to be some kind of abomination. Fine, so I'm a bastard. Can't I have one happy thing? I'm that undeserving, aren't I?"

As if in agreement, the wind bashed against the glass, stared at Sina and howled.

Father Cal lifted his head and took a deep breath. One which brought him a sense of both euphoria and agony. In the living room, the scent of gin was an assault, yet the fragrance coming from the kitchen was a melody sung to every Kadisin since they had been cast down to Earth from the Heavens. A scent so potent and so perfect it could threaten to make Caleb forsake God, love, and himself. The sweet scent of demon's blood.

As Sina bled in the kitchen, the aroma wrapped itself around Cal and whispered, "Come and get me, preacher."

Another breath and Cal knew it was the same scent from the forest. The same creature. He clasped his hands to keep them from trembling but his eyes grew wild. Rising, he knew he had to find where it was coming from. And take it. And drink it.

"It must be the wind," Father Caleb uttered shakily as he rose. "It's carrying the scent inside. Dear God, I am going to lose my mind." He brought his hand to his forehead and noticed he was sweating. Around him, light began to dim.

"Caleb?" came a voice from far away, as if it were stuck in a void. Cal could hear it but he couldn't understand what direction it was coming from. The blood scent was now all around him. It filled every nook, every cranny, every space between heartbeats and the fibers of every dust mite. "Cal? I need some help here. The goddamn knife was so sharp. I just touched it. I fucking cut myself and it's not stopping."

Turning towards the sound, Caleb heard his heart thudding in his ears. He drew in another breath and realized where the blood scent was coming from. The kitchen. And Sina.

words: 595

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