Page 144 of Eternal Craving

“Well, hello there.” I smiled at Rachel.

“How long have you been standing there?” Sunaria asked, annoyed.

“Please hurry.” Rachel looked miserable. “Marcus is drunk.”

I sat up. “He can’t be drunk.”

“Unless his victim was,” Sunaria said.

Rachel bit her bottom lip. “He’s drunk three bottles of wine.”

Sunaria and I swapped a wary glance.

“Has he eaten food?” I asked.

Rachel nodded.

“That’s just great.” I sighed. “Bloody great.”

Reluctantly, I left Sunaria behind and followed Rachel out into the night. Rachel and I found Marcus lying in his own vomit.

They’d created a den of sorts in the lower rooms of a rundown East London shack. Paint was peeling off the walls and broken windows gave the room a horrid sense of vulnerability. No thought had gone into choosing their temporary refuge. At least, I hoped they considered it temporary.

“Nice place,” I said.

Despite my assertion that I’d take care of them, I’d let them down. Finding Marcus lying in this filth was evidence of my abandonment.

“How do you bear it?” Marcus slurred.

“It gets easier,” I said flatly. “Rachel, bring me a cloth.”

She scurried off.

“I thought you were staying at the Old Towne Inn?” I gave him a thin smile.

“Rachel took a fancy to the innkeeper.”

“She didn’t?—”

“Drank him dry.” His eyelids fluttered shut.

I shook him. “Did you finish the job I gave you?”

“Are you sure you want to go through with it?” Marcus asked.

“Yes. Though I didn’t account for you getting inebriated.”

“I’m dying.”

“You’re pissed. You have a headache.”

He retched and I dodged his vomit.

“My head’s spinning,” he mumbled. “We can’t eat food. Does that not strike you as strange?”

“We’ve been over this.”

Rachel returned and placed the bucket by my side. I dipped the old rag into the water and washed Marcus’ face.