“No, you’re okay,” I insisted. “Don’t worry.”
“No. I …” Ezra trailed off again, and a spasm went over his body. He gripped even tighter and I could barely breathe. It passed, and he relaxed, as much as he could. “I’m sorry.”
“Ezra. It’s okay.”
When Peter got off the phone, he watched Ezra for a moment as he struggled to keep his breaths even. I could feel Ezra biting back screams, and I looked to Peter for help, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“The best thing for him to do is rest,” Peter said. “The feelings will fade, with time. Our flight leaves in seven hours. He can get some rest and eat, and then he ought to feel good enough to at least make it home.”
Peter packed our things and got us ready to go. I felt like I should help him, but I didn’t want to leave Ezra alone. Eventually, Peter suggested we get some sleep. Ezra went in and out of consciousness. I managed to doze off a little bit, but Ezra woke me frequently with moaning or writhing.
When Peter woke me in the evening, Ezra was still tangled up with me, but the fierceness in his grip had disappeared. Peter helped him to the bathroom to eat and get cleaned up, and I got up to stretch. My whole body ached terribly from the way he had held me.
Just comforting Ezra had been exhausting, and I couldn’t fathom what he was going through. I stood next to the bed, feeling more emotionally drained, and Peter came out of the bathroom to give Ezra privacy. He looked at me with concern, but I didn’t deserve any, so I busied myself with straightening up the room.
“Alice.” Peter placed his hand on my arm, stopping me. “How are you holding up?”
“Better than Ezra,” I gave a hollow laugh.
I looked up at him, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Unwanted tears streamed down my cheeks, and roughly, he pulled me into his arms. Burying my face in his shirt, I sobbed hard.
“Thanks. And sorry,” I mumbled when I got myself under control and pull away from him. He kept his hand on my arm, as if severing contact would reduce me to tears.
“Don’t worry about it. I saw how hard that was on you,” Peter said.
“He’s not even crying.” I wiped the tears from my face and hated myself for being a baby.
“It’s different for him. He’s been through this before, although I don’t think it’s ever been this bad.” His eyes got hard, no doubt thinking about how this was his fault.
“What do you mean he’s been through this before?” I asked.
“That’s what his old ‘master,’ Willem, used to do and he was a bad, bad man.” He stared off into space. “But Willem was just one man, not a pack of sadists. I’ve been bit before, by something less than them, and it’s…”
“What?” I pressed when Peter trailed off into silence.
“My blood burned in my veins. My body tried to reject it, and I was so drained of blood already. And on top of the physical pain, which is excruciating, it gives you emotions. It makes you want things you don’t want. You feel disgusting and ….” He shook his head, unwilling to elaborate further. “It’s torture, absolutely.”
“Will he be okay?” I asked.
Ezra came out of the bathroom, changing our attention. He wore fresh clothes, and the marks on his neck and wrist had finally healed. His skin was still pale and his expression grave, but he moved around okay.
He barely said anything to either of us on the way to the airport. I saw how rigid he was, and he struggled to hold back what pain was left. On the plane, he mumbled several apologies to me, all of which I brushed off. I had barely done anything for him, and it was nothing that he wouldn’t do for me.
This made me gain even more respect for him. Whatever made him feel this bad would’ve killed anybody else.
On the rest of the flight back to America, he kept his eyes shut tightly and his lips pressed together. I couldn’t stop staring at him, terrified he would fall apart or die if I did.
- 11 –
By the time we landed in Minneapolis, Ezra returned to something that resembled his normal self. A very subdued version, but he could talk and walk without grimacing. Thanks to my preoccupation with him, I hadn’t texted anyone to let them know that we were here. We took a cab home, deciding a surprise return was better at this point.
As soon as the plane had touched down, I felt a pull in my heart. After days and days of a dull ache at being away from Jack, it screamed with pleasure, knowing how close he was. The cab had barely stopped at the house when I jumped out .
I dashed through the front door, and Jack rounded the corner to the entryway, his blue eyes wide. He broke out in a gigantic smile, and I dove into his arms and wrapped my arms around his neck.