Shattered (Book 2)

Chapter 6

Ivy

Theodore turned the faucet on from the kitchen and wandered back over to the couch, sitting on the armrest. He eyed me up and down, evaluating me like some kind of science experiment. I don't know how long we lasted there, eyeing each other, waiting for one or the other to say something. Not sure what he anticipated me to say, considering the bastard had been MIA for weeks. The silence stretched while the faucet remained running into the drain. I refused to budge first. I was tired of being walked on; I held ready to stand my ground.

Theodore seemed to have gotten the hint when he cleared his throat and looked past me.

"So," he started, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So," I repeated. Where the fuck is Theodore going with this? I thought. And why did he turn on the faucet?

"It would seem your Jackson broke a few rules," he stated.

Your Jackson? If my heart was still beating, I swear it would bust like a scene from Alien from my chest. Even now, as a vampire, his name always got my heart doing somersaults. It was pathetic.

"I had no idea it was against the rules to change someone into a vampire," I mentioned nonchalantly. It wasn't a lie; nobody tells me anything around here.

Theodore narrowed his dark eyes at me, "It is when that vampire was a dhampir prior."

I stilled, gulping back a hard lump in my throat. "Why?"

"Why? Because being a vampire is a whole other level beyond what you were originally made from. Intense training and history lessons must be met. Plus, we can't just make one on a whim or because we feel like it."

"It seems you do."

"No. We cannot overpopulate the world with us. We have to live in secret."

Theodore rose from his sitting position, heading back over to the sink, watching the water swirl down the drain. "But it would seem those rules don't apply when it comes to you." He took his long, caramel hand and placed it under the water.

I recoiled. "You think this is my fault?"

"I think your existence is a distraction to Jackson," he stated, retrieving his hand back from under the water.

Anger began to boil within me. "No offense, but you were the one who changed me and then disappeared. Jackson has been the one doing it all. You left me with no guidance, no support. Absolutely nothing."

"I had a lead that I needed to follow. Jackson was a hundred percent capable of guiding you—"

"Fuck you," I snapped. Hunger and rage all tied together, and I was about to strike.

Theodore dismissed my insult and trudged over to the fridge, retrieving what looked to be a blood bag from the bottom shelf. He tossed it at me, and I caught it with ease.

"Drink. Now," Theodore ordered.

My hands trembled when I brought the bag up to my lips, tearing it open with my teeth. The blood oozed out, dripping down the side of the pack. Dried lips and raw tongue, I slurped at the opening where I tore, sucking down the blood. The coolness and flavor eased their way down my esophagus, filling me with satisfaction. Granted, this would have tasted way better if it came from an actual human vein, but my self-control was far gone. Getting the remainder of the blood from the bottom, I slurped vigorously until every last drop was consumed.

I wiped my mouth and gave back the empty bag to Theodore. "Thanks."

He took it without a word and tossed it on the counter.