Angel Blood

18- I'm Yours (18+)

18+

I straighten as my gut clenches, roiling like I've downed an entire bottle of vodka. I take a deep breath, bracing a hand on the leather couch underneath me as I try to reign in the aggressive nausea that bites the back of my throat.

Theo glances at me, brows raised. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," I mutter, laying a wan hand over my forehead. I expect it to be warm with sickness but the cool, slightly clammy skin of my face presses against my palm.

I take another breath, gasping when bile crawls up my throat, sprinting to the bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet before violently vomiting the contents of my stomach into the porcelain bowl.

"Whoa," Theo murmurs in the doorway, watching me wipe spittle off my mouth with the back of my hand. "You alright?"

My brow furrows. "I don't know." Besides my unsettled stomach, my heart thunders like I've sprinted a few miles. I lay a shaky hand over where it shudders in my chest. "I think something's wrong."

He frowns. "Are you pregnant?"

"What?" I jolt at the idea. "No."

He squints dubiously at me. "You sure?"

"Yes," I frown, "I'm sure, Theo."

He hums suspiciously, leaning against the doorway as he looks at me dubiously. "Amber hasn't given you anything, has she?"

I blink. "No, why?"

He looks away. "No reason."

"Are you implying she's crazy enough to poison me?"

"Well," he winces. "Kinda."

He takes another thoughtful moment of silence, brow furrowing. Something worrisome flashes over his face before he strides over and takes my wrist in his hand.

"What are you doing?" I try to jerk my arm back but his vise only strengthens, making my pulse beat dully against his skin.

He yanks my sleeve up, eyeing the skin underneath. The intense look sits strangely upon his face. "Calli," he says, eyes flickering back up to mine. "Do you feel anything else?"

I peek down at the skin curiously, stomach tightening at the serious note in his voice. The serpentine twitches on my arm, her little tongue peeking from her mouth. She winds herself taut around my arm, small body trembling with unseen pain.

A trembling breath shudders through my lungs. My stomach roils but I can't decide it's from nerves or the unsettled acid in my gut. "Maybe just my stomach?" I try and rise, a startled gasp ripping from my throat as I nearly topple over. Theo's arm winding around my waist saves me from knocking a tooth out on the toilet. "What's going on?"

He curses. "Lay down. I need to make some calls."

Before I can protest, he throws my frail body over his shoulder and deposits me in the black silk sheets of Sinclair's bed. I frown up at him as he pulls a phone from his pocket and presses it to his ear, turning his back as he speaks quietly into the microphone.

"Theo." I think about sitting up but the sudden weariness that weighs my bones makes me think better of it. "Tell me what's happening."

He ignores me, tapping his fingers absentmindedly against Sin's mahogany dresser as he listens to the person on the line speak. I gasp as his brow furrows and he slams his fist into the wood. "What the fuck do you mean? Where is he?"

I watch him with wide eyes at the unnatural display of behavior. I knew he had it in him somewhere—you have to be a tough son a bitch to have Sinclair Black handpick you to work at his side, but the display is strange nonetheless.