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The switch only took moments. Claude suspended the plastic IV bag, dark red and bloated with his blood, above Mecca’s bed. Like a swollen corpse on a gallows, it hung from the metal stand while Mecca slumbered through her drug-induced nap.
He clamped the plastic tube, so he wouldn’t spill any of Emilia’s blood onto the sleeping girl when he unhooked the bag. He reattached the clear tube to his own bag and less than a minute later, with Emilia’s blood hidden inside the satchel at his hip, Claude stepped out of Mecca’s room into the empty hallway. The door lock whirred as the latch caught.
When he reached his own quarters, he found Salas waiting for him in the sitting room, as he expected. Claude drew the satchel off and held it out to his manservant.
“Dispose of this.”
Salas wound the strap around his burly hand. “Did you have any trouble?”
“None at all. Will had already stepped out for his own rest. Emilia is limiting access to that floor so as not garner any extra attention.”
“She’s keeping the girl a secret.”
“Of course,” Claude said. “Mecca has the potential to be a very powerful weapon, if handled properly.”
“You’ll have to control Emilia in order to control the girl.” Salas lifted the satchel for a moment. “Your blood will only help a little bit if Emilia is the one Mecca chooses to be bound to.”
Claude had thought of that. It would be complicated. He’d replaced Emilia’s blood with his own twice now. He had to ensure that most of what Mecca received was his.
Otherwise, Emilia’s hold over the girl would be stronger or, worse, if the levels remained equal, Mecca would choose, albeit subconsciously.
He didn’t think Mecca knew her own ancestry, and he didn’t know much about the Jivaja. He couldn’t even be sure the blood would affect her as it did humans.
But Claude wanted her. And he would have her.
He couldn’t even be sure the blood would affect her as it did humans. But Claude wanted her. And he would have her. ~~ Read #Jivaja on #FreeFictionFriday! #UrbanFantasy #UF #Horror Share on XEmilia could be manipulated, if he were careful about it. She’d changed much since she’d last been with him. The past hundred and a half years, she’d come into her own strengths and found for herself that part of her he’d always seen as destined for leadership.
Despite her independence, he felt confident that he could still bring her under his control. But he wasn’t sure he would be able to direct Mecca in the way he wanted if he had to do it through Emilia. He would contemplate that bridge crossing a bit later.
“I don’t think Mecca will choose to be bound at all,” Claude said. “I believe she will fight. And she will have to be taken. It’s the way with her kind.”
Though the look on Salas’s face showed his curiosity, Claude was glad his servant controlled himself. It had taken decades to train the man to keep his tongue, to hold his curiosity.
“Go and get rid of that,” Claude said, waving a hand at the satchel in Salas’s grip.
“As you wish.” Salas took four long strides and placed his hand on the doorknob. “Emilia asked for you to stop by her suite when you have a moment.”
“Thank you.”
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