#SoCS Prompt: “movie title.” Take the title of the last movie you watched (just the title, not the premise of the movie), and base your post on that title.
“The Hunger Games”
I’m cheating this week, but this reminded me of vampire politics, and well, I have the perfect excerpt for that, so here it is—Chapter Thirty-Five:
“Secrets. As exciting as yours are, I grow tired of how much effort it takes to unearth them and how loyal my people are to keeping yours from me.”
I blinked at Phea, too tired to generate the energy needed to sass her. Probably for the better.
My dry throat cracked my first words. I cleared away the rocks. “What did you learn this time?”
“Your question implies that you have more than one sizeable secret.”
“Depends on what you mean by sizeable.” Okay, maybe I maintained a little bit of sass.
Phea’s jaw worked, dark eyes narrowing like the barrel of a gun. “I suggest care and tact, renegade. Or what I decide to do with you and your baby will be affected by your attitude.”
Gaze unfocused, white blurred in an attempt to consume her dark shape. I’d been waiting for this. I knew Christopher would tell them. He needed to. I didn’t have the strength to offer it up myself.
“We tested your blood to confirm. I’m surprised by you. That you would put your child in such extreme peril to keep him to yourself. How long has it been since you’ve fed?”
Although they’d been keeping me in a room deprived of the sun or sky, Christopher had come to see me at least ten times already.
“Well, we cannot have that, so you will be receiving rations again. Of blood and food because I’m promised we can understand how this happened far better with a healthy baby than without him.” Her chilly hand found my forehead, smoothing away my bangs. “You must know, however, that this means new and improved forms of punishment. Feel free to save yourself the harshest of them by telling me everything right now.”
I wanted to tell her that she’d never get her hands on my baby.
I wanted it to be true.
But I could handle anything that didn’t harm him. Besides, I doubt she’d keep that promise if she knew one of them meant I’d killed her demented little knight. I’d held onto everything else for as long as possible. The extra powers were piddly to this.
Her hand waved beside the bed, not to me, and shuffling and scraping entered the room.
Feet slid around, and the acute scent of a human filled the space.
A middle-aged, black woman struggled to stand under Vincent’s grip. Sweat poured over her forehead and gathered under her cheeks.
“Your meal.” Phea presented her with a small flourish.
Vincent dumped the woman against the wall, bowed to Phea, and left.
The queen took the chair Christopher normally sat in, crossed a leg over the other and waited for me to feed—a stubborn mother watching over her insolent child.
“Who is she?”
“Does it matter?”
Of course it does. I’d said the same to James when he brought me my first meal. And it hadn’t mattered then. I was too hungry, too new to regulating myself that I drained him dry in seconds.
The woman smelled of cocoa butter, and she was half aware like this might all be some silly nightmare. How easily I could have lured her to me, but I went to her. Cold prickled into my toes.
She balanced against the wall on her own, and she nearly fell over when I touched her shoulder.
Calm. I pushed the idea into her. Her wobbling ceased, hands splayed against the white paint behind her.
This won’t hurt. Fingers braced against her neck, I tilted her throat to my throbbing fangs.
Her blood tasted of sweet cream, spreading through my cells the moment it touched my tongue. My body didn’t rage over it like when the Assetato kept me captive, but my throat and stomach rejoiced as I took my first swallow.
The dull, dead hum in the back of my brain faded, and my wits returned.
Nowhere near sated, I released the woman and let her slide to the concrete floor with a gentle euphoria. I’d heard my bite drugged my prey—worse than a normal vampire’s because of my imprint and tendency to glamour others with it.
“Saving the rest for later? I’ve given my word that you will receive regular feedings, you can finish your meal without fear that I will withhold more from you.” Phea gestured toward the woman, offering a freedom that she knew I didn’t want.
I crawled into bed and curled myself back where I’d started.
“I am far too aware of your high-road morality, as skewed and misguided as it is, but you cannot have another until you’ve finished your first. I suggest you not prolong it.” Phea stood, straightening her business skirt with a sly shimmy and left me to my newest torture.
Once the door closed, the woman on the floor slept with small, soft snores. I took the chance to get some genuine sleep, too, before none was offered to me.