The sound of the chains snapping in two echos deafening in his ears. Seared skin all but singing hosannas at the removal of that particular torture. The constant burn in his blood lingering but losing strength slowly. And there’s a moment where he swallows thickly as the worlds put to a new tilt, as the woman does what she can to get him to his feet. A miracle really for as heavy and useless as his limbs are right now. Though some how his legs manage to wedge themselves under him as she lifts. Something he can only assume possible because his body is already rushing to repair the damage.
“Troi’yin’, lass…oi dunna…react well ta….ta oi’ron.”
A labored breath. An attempt to help balance himself by a hand to the wall nearest them.But the truth is–he’s putting way more of his weight on her than anything else. And if she were anything other than she was? He’d have easily keeled back over by now, crushing her in the process. But regardless he attempts a shuffled step. He no more wishes to spend another minute here than she wishes to be caught trying to get him out. Still though the question she offers isn’t one he can answer. Not exactly anyway.
“Dunna be…sure. Usually be avoidin’….ye lo-lot.”
Even with the struggle that it is to keep his feet, to move forward as she needs him to, he hears it. The opening and close of a door. The movement of foot steps above them and mix matched eyes blink upward. The rest of him freezing up with unfettered tension. Waiting. Listening. Taking in air on his tongue to scent it. But everything is so god damn fuzzy right now–he can’t pinpoint whether its danger or otherwise. Though self preservation is screaming at him to get moving again.
“D’ere be…some o’der way–ou’ o’ here….?”
Iron seems to be to him what silver is to vampires. He’s not human so what the hell is he? One thing’s for sure, he’s fucking heavy. Good thing she’s a vampire or they’d both pretty fuckin’ doomed. Speaking of doomed, Eric’s going to kill her. Or Pam. Or both..
Well, maybe Pam will protect her. She is, after all, her sire. Whatever, doesn’t matter, Tara can’t very well go back on her promise to get the Immortal out of here now and luckily for them, Eric and Pam are still far away from here.
“None taken.” She, sometimes, avoids other vampires too. Most of them are vicious and sadistic. Case in point: Eric fuckin’ Northman. He’s one awful bastard, chaining this guy up for whatever stupid ass reason he has. Whatever the reason, Tara doesn’t care.
The sound of the door opening and closing hits hear ears. The sound of a heartbeat thuds in a rhythm in her ears. Not a vampire. Good. Must be Ginger or some other poor human. They still have time to get out of here and she can use her mind compulsion on them if she has too.
“It’s probably just Ginger. Stupid bitch won’t even notice us and if she doesn’t, I’ll just compel her. I’m afraid there’s not another way out. You’re just gonna have to suck it the fuck up and keep moving.” But first, it was worth a try to give him her blood.
Fangs pop out audibly and the arm not supporting Luka is lifted to her face, teeth bite down to tear through the flesh of her wrist before she’s offering her bleeding wrist to the Immortal, crimson red blood pours from it like a river. It’ll leave behind drops of blood on the floor but this room has seen far worse. “Drink. Can’t hurt to try it. Ain’t never heard of vampire blood hurtin’ anyone so drink up.”
