"No," I barely managed to say aloud before my throat burned with the sweet scent of blood, like hot metal. Unbearable pain enveloped me. Fear spilled over the edge, like water splashing out of a pool when one of my classmates cannonballed in, causing the principal to grumble. Fear from the vivid images flashing in front of my eyes, and the terror from the fact that this sequence heralded an impending disaster.
"No, no, no. No. Not here. Please, not in front of everyone!" I began to plead, but Kaandor had already severed our connection and was deaf to my cries. Unable to contain my emotions, I cursed quietly. If only we hadn't argued in the room, perhaps now the spirit would be more loyal. A tingling spread in my fingertips, and I knew exactly what would follow — I imagined vividly how I would begin to change right before my classmates' eyes.
"Asya, are you okay?" I heard a familiar voice, but I didn't respond. I didn't have time for that. I needed to get out of the water — quickly.
Months of work, exhausting training. My father's irritating but incredibly important lectures, breathing practices. And yet, one tiny "but" could instantly destroy the fragile balance between me and the dark companion. Everything changed when blood was nearby.
Without explaining anything to anyone, I rushed toward the steps, climbed out of the pool, and, forgetting about the hotel robe, ran to the exit, feeling a rising hum in my ears. Everything was happening too fast. I needed to get far away from the source of the tempting blood, from Arthur, from the vampires, and preferably from everyone, just to avoid disaster. Becoming a killer before graduation was hardly the dream scenario.
When I reached the exit and pulled the door toward me, I thought I heard someone call my name, but I could feel the tension inside continuing to build, and I didn't dare turn around: what if it was Arthur? I had to keep moving forward. And fast.
The deathly pale corridor to the lobby seemed to stretch on forever. I held on as best as I could, trying to ignore the temptation to fall to the floor and let the inevitable finally happen. Every cell of my body burned, and I realized that real agony was approaching: the more you resist the beast, the stronger it wants to take over.
How tempting it seemed to give in to Kaandor's power. To build a wall around my mind and refuse to participate in the coming internal battle between man and beast, to simply dissolve in the flood of thirst. But common sense told me there were too many people I loved in this building. Too many people for whom I had to make it to the room and lock myself in the bathroom until the scent faded, and my mind cleared. It was better to smash a few mirrors and walls in the shower than to succumb to the temptation, the price of which was too high.
I breathed in eagerly, exiting the cursed corridor into the spacious lobby, and hurried to the stairs, trying to keep my eyes forward, well aware that classmates could be here too.
No matter what, I had to keep going. My heart beat unbearably loudly, and I was ready to swear it would soon leap out of my chest, leaving me to my fate and saving the last bits of good and human within me that could still be protected. I feared that if I stopped — I would lose the last remnants of control, so I forced myself to keep moving, even when I started losing the sensation of my own body. My muscles felt like they were filled with lead, urging me to calm down, to finally surrender and dive headfirst into the inevitable, but I kept pushing through the pain. I rejoiced at each new step, praising myself, albeit feigned, like a broken record — I didn't truly feel any pride, but I clung to the positive mindset as if it were the last match before it burned out, and the world followed into darkness. It became harder to keep the rhythm as I climbed the stairs, but in the end, I made it to the right floor. A few more steps, and I reached my hotel wing, mustering the last of my strength to go faster, just to be on the other side of the door of the saving room.
I got close enough to reach the handle and made a wide step forward, then yanked it — and the door didn't budge. Not believing my eyes, I started pulling the handle again and again as if that could change anything. Fragments of thoughts rushed through my head as I continued, until I finally realized that without the key card, the door couldn't be opened. The problem was that the card was deep in the pocket of my soft white robe. And the robe, of course, had been left by the pool, several floors below me. At the pool, where Arthur was. Where the intoxicating blood was.
I couldn't go back, but I kept fighting, desperately trying to figure out where I could isolate myself from others, if not in the room. Arriving at the spa center just the day before, I hadn't found time to look around — and, as I realized now, I should have. Going down definitely wasn't an option: too great a risk of encountering someone from the staff or classmates, but going upstairs…
The thought was cut off when a hand flashed before my eyes and I heard the electronic click. A cold hand grasped mine, still holding the handle, and pressed down firmly. The door opened easily, and someone pushed me into the room. Everything happened so quickly, and I didn't have time to turn around or do anything else.
"Will you manage?" I barely made out the words through the ringing in my ears and didn't recognize the voice.
My temples burned with sharp pain, as if I'd been pierced by a heated rod through and through. The sensation came suddenly and quickly, and I instinctively grabbed my head, as though that could ease the burning. My fingers dug into my skin, hoping to keep the beast inside, whose time had long since come.
My legs stopped obeying and suddenly gave way. That was it.
Whoever was with me in the room now would soon hear bad news. For a second, I felt myself fall, but strong hands caught me around the waist and swiftly lifted me into the air, taking away the support from my feet. Not wanting to dangle like a lifeless doll, I tensed my abs and tried to pull my knees up as high as possible, gradually drawing my legs to me. For some reason, I had an intuitive feeling that the person in the room understood what they were dealing with.