"Shut up," he said lowly. "One more word and I'll tear out your tongue." No one wounded me, my blood is with me. If you say anything in front of the others, I'll kill you. Do you understand me? The High Inquisitor shook Corinne, and she muttered something.
Then Penny dreamed that the High Inquisitor had lifted her from the ground and carried her in his arms to the jeep. It also seemed to Penny that she felt the drops of blood of the High Inquisitor, who had been wounded after all.
But how can you trust your feelings after a vampire bite?
Leaving blood behind is a great stupidity. Vampires can track a person by blood, zombies can remember them, ghosts can take away power, and demons... Oh, demons know how to use human blood in a hundred disgusting ways. After performing a ritual, they can send unbearable pain that breaks bones, a bright gloom that drives you crazy, or they can deprive a person of his will and take away his soul.
The human soul is the highest value for the demon, its loss is worse than death, dooming oneself to eternal torment. Penny knew that the High Inquisitor would not break even under torture, would rather die than part with his soul. But if his blood gets to the demons... Even an iron will is not enough to resist the curse. Then the High Inquisitor won't even die, worse than die.
If only the High Inquisitor had told the truth, and the alpha vampire did not get a drop of his blood.
That was what Penny thought as she lay in the tent of the infirmary. I didn't want to open my eyes. The neck at the site of the bite hurt stupidly, the scars on the shoulder blades habitually pulled. It was quiet around, a soft ringing could be heard from somewhere around the corner, as if a healer or his assistant at the table were shifting syringes and scalpels. There was a bitter smell of antiseptic, rubber and tent awning.
A heavy tread was heard at the entrance, then faded away, as if the intruder had stopped in the threshold.
"Sir," came a quiet female voice, and then a male voice said:
"You can go, Maggie.
"But...
"You. Can. Go.
The ringing subsided, quiet footsteps staggered to the exit. There was silence, and then the High Inquisitor walked towards Penny. He stood by the bed, sank into a chair, leaned back and stretched his legs. He was silent for so long that Penny felt as if he had fallen asleep too.
"How do you feel, angel?"
The High Inquisitor had never called Penny by her first name, even though he had given it to her. Always only an "angel".
"Good. Penny opened her eyes. "Thank you.
The High Inquisitor's gaze was heavy and dark, the blue of his iris almost turned black. Penny raised herself up on her arms and tried to straighten her stiff back. The High Inquisitor's gaze immediately clung to her naked breasts.
God. She knew she was undressed. Penny pulled the blanket higher and shrunk. The receptacle of sin.
"You owe me, angel," the High Inquisitor said, not thinking of turning away. "I saved you. Despite all the harm you've done me, I saved you today," his words sounded so tired of anger that Penny flinched. "And that's what you're paying me with."
"Wh-what, sir?" She tightened her grip on the edge of the blanket, which she pulled up to her neck.
The High Inquisitor rushed to her, grabbed her by the neck and shoulder, forcing her to throw back her head, brought his face closer to Penny's, and growled:
"Don't pretend you don't understand!" His hands gripped Penny painfully. "It's only thanks to me that you haven't gone to feed the demons yet, it's only thanks to me that you're still alive, and you're still testing your strength on me!" You're driving me to illness, stupefying me, spoiling me!
"What are you talking about?" asked Penny with her lips, and the High Inquisitor suddenly let her go. He sat down on the chair again, continuing to drill his eyes.
"Many people believe that fallen angels should be executed, like any evil spirit," he said slowly, crossing his arms over his chest. - Burn at the stake or decapitate. Many people believe that you, expelled from heaven, carry only evil in you. That you are the receptacle of vice. I used to disagree with that.
Penny stared at the High Inquisitor uncomprehendingly. Of course, she knew about it. Even in their squad there were those who disliked Penny simply for who she was. They were the majority, to tell the truth. Almost everyone. Fearing the wrath of the High Inquisitor, they did not harm Penny openly, but the emphasized silence and indifference were enough to make them feel superfluous, unnecessary.
"I prayed," the High Inquisitor snorted and turned to the window, which was covered with transparent film. "But apparently the Lord has no time for my requests. He turned back to Penny. "And then I decided that I would solve the problem myself. Since He believes in me so much that He is in no hurry to interfere.
The High Inquisitor stood up again and walked over to Penny. He put his hand on her chin, forcing her to raise her face, stroked her cheek. He ran his thumb over his lips, spreading them, penetrating and touching his tightly clenched teeth.
"You're coming to my tent tonight." One. And you can't tell anyone where you're going. You'll undress and lie down. And you will wait for me.