Bewitch(62)

Payne flicked a glance down to Antoine and Sera. The aristocrat male was bleeding badly but he would live. He only needed time to begin healing, someone to clean the wound and some blood to speed the whole recovery process. Something told him that Snow was too far gone to register that. His brother had been injured and he had gone off the deep end, a beast with only desire for blood and violence, mindless with rage and driven by dark instincts. Not bloodlust. This was something else. Something far more terrible.
Snow lunged at Payne.
Payne brought both arms up and blocked his swipe, taking the hit on his forearms. He cried out as Snow’s claws shredded his flesh and then threw all of his remaining strength into his attack, slamming the flats of his hands into Snow’s chest and sending him flying across the stage and crashing into the wall on the right of the theatre. He fell in a heap and pushed himself up, and shook his head. Red tainted the white lengths of his overlong hair.
Snow growled and bore his fangs.
Andreu and Chica leaped on him before he could get up, trying to pin him down.
“Snow, listen to me.” Chica grabbed his hair and tugged his head up. “Payne is not your enemy. We’re good here. You hear me?”
Snow roared and reared up, easily shaking them off him. He stumbled to his feet and loped towards Antoine. Sera stared at him, tears streaking her cheeks.
Snow’s eyes verged on black.
They moved to Payne and then Elissa. She gasped and Payne felt her fear in his blood, felt the boy in her arms stir as her strength began to fade, her terror stealing it away. The wounds on Payne’s arms throbbed, blood rolling in rivulets down to his palms and dripping to the black stage floor. He shut out the stinging pain and the sense that he was weakening, focusing on protecting Elissa and her youngling. He wouldn’t allow Snow near her. He wasn’t in any position to fight the larger older male, didn’t want things to go down that route, but he had to keep her safe.
“Snow,” Antoine whispered, his voice hoarse and laden with pain.
Snow’s black eyes fell to his brother. He snarled at Sera and she shuffled backwards, giving him access to Antoine. Payne remained on guard, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding every inch of him, and his claws at the ready.
Snow collapsed to his knees beside Antoine and grasped his hand, rocking back and forth as he murmured words in a foreign tongue. Antoine swallowed hard and opened his pale blue eyes, fixing them on Snow above him. Snow’s pale eyebrows furrowed and he bore his fangs. Antoine shook his head a fraction but whatever passed unspoken between them didn’t stop his older brother. Snow opened his mouth and bit his own wrist, burying his fangs deep and tearing open his flesh.#p#分页标题#e#
He offered it to Antoine.
Antoine shook his head again and sounded weary as he spoke. “I cannot take it.”
Snow growled and it tailed off into a whimper, and Payne’s grey eyes shot wide when he clawed at his own chest, tearing through his black t-shirt and gouging deep gashes in his flesh.
Antoine grimaced and tried to sit up. Sera rushed to help him, kneeling behind him and supporting his back. With visible effort, Antoine grabbed Snow’s wrist.
“No, Snow.”
Snow didn’t stop. He whined and slashed his arms, his wrists, blood flowing freely. Andreu and Chica grabbed his thickly muscled arms, trying to restrain him. Payne helped them but Snow was too strong. He tried to shake them off, growling and whining, the sound harrowing as it echoed around the theatre.
Antoine grasped Snow’s hand and Snow stopped to look at him, a lost expression on his blood-streaked face.
“Calm yourself, Brother,” Antoine whispered and swallowed. “You did not do this.”
Snow’s face twisted in agony and he offered his wrist again, his entire arm drenched in blood now. It pulsed from the lacerations, dripping thick and fast onto the black stage floor.
The corners of Antoine’s lips lifted in a pained smile. “I will take it... there is no need to spill more for me.”
Snow moved his arm towards his mouth and Antoine closed his eyes and fixed his lips around one of the cuts. From what Payne could tell, he only took a little blood from his brother. Was he afraid that he would make Snow worse if he took more than a sip? Payne didn’t want to find out the answer to that question. Snow was scary enough as it was. He didn’t want to encounter Snow in a darker wilder mood than the one he was in now.
“All the pretty colours... do you see them... Aurora...” Snow rocked, his eyes locked on Antoine, and then tilted his head back and stared at the black ceiling of the theatre, his eyes glazed and face streaked with blood. “Come home with me... we can go together... don’t go away.”