She looked away. “Don’t smile at me like that.”
“But you made me happy.”
“My only intention is to make you well.”
He caught her hand and brought it to his chest. Her breath hitched as a deluge of emotion poured into her, so fast and vast it tore down her walls and obliterated her defenses. She tried to pull back her hand, but his strength outmatched hers.
“Do you feel it?”
The sharp ache raced up her arm as he stared up at her with pleading eyes. “Let go, Adam. You’re scaring me.”
“Tell me what you feel.”
“Pain. Agony. Fear.” Untethering impulses barely contained, clawing to break free. He was fighting to maintain control and the battle was killing him.
“You can take it all away, Anna. Only you.”
“That’s not real, Adam. That isn’t how healing works.”
His hand tightened on hers, the rapid pounding of his heart thundering against her palm. “This is as real as it gets, Annalise. You can fix me. My soul knows yours. And if you let down your guard and trust that I’ll watch over you and protect you from harm, you’ll see that your soul recognizes mine, as well.”
Her head shook, her mind rejecting anything that stood on a foundation of blind faith. Love and hope didn’t fix people. Doctors did. And sometimes even they couldn’t.
“Please just let me take you to a hospital.”
She didn’t know why she was so upset. It was too familiar. Too bizarre.
“There’s so much cynicism in you, ainsicht. Why?”
She didn’t want to talk about this. “I’m sure there’s an ER nearby. I promise I won’t try to run.”
“Tell me what happened to you. Why are you so distrustful and angry with the world?”
Maybe he could feel her the way she felt him. “Let go.”
“You asked me for truth, and I gave it to you. Return the favor. Tell me who hurt you.”
Visions of falling to her knees at her mother’s grave and beating the loosened earth with her fists as she cursed her life flashed through her mind. She’d had one person in this world and He took her from her.
Her vision blurred, a solid lump forming in her throat. “This isn’t real. It’s just a dream.”
“We’re not dreaming anymore, ainsicht. I promise, this is real.”
“I want to wake up.” A tear tripped down her cheek.
“Tell me who hurt you. If this is just a dream, there aren’t any real consequences.”
Sucking in a jagged breath, she tried to deny her pain, but his overwhelmed her, making her weak and vulnerable. More tears fell. “God.”
His face paled. “God?”
She nodded and swiped at her eyes with shaky fingers. “So when you sit here and tell me all of this is happening because of some entity I despise, pardon me if I don’t want to believe you. God is cruel, Adam. The universe is unkind. And we’re only here for a fleeting second in time.”
“That’s not true.”
“How do you know?”
“I know.”
“How?” she snapped. “Have you ever lost someone? Have you ever suffered a loneliness so deep that you’d consider giving yourself to a complete stranger just to pretend for a second you’re not all alone in a world filled with over seven billion people?”
“You’re not alone, Anna.”
“I’ve been alone since I lost my mother.”
“No, ainsicht, God has a plan for you.”
“That’s right. I’m here with you, a stranger.”
He pressed his hand to her heart, mirroring the way her hand rested against his. Warmth tunneled through her and the knot in her chest loosened. “I’m not a stranger,” he whispered.
Déjà vu filled her and her senses opened wide. If it were possible, she felt more of him, possibly all of him. It wasn’t an intrusion. The presence felt familiar.
He pulled her closer, gentling her like the wild horse that needs a soft touch. “Do not cry.” His fingers feathered across her cheek, catching her tears. “Let me take the pain. Give it to me, Anna.”
She didn’t know what was happening. Their emotions flooded back and forth, mixing until every thought and feeling felt lighter, shared, and somehow easier to bear.
His lips pressed to her temple as he pulled her deeper onto his lap. She recognized the scent of his skin, the soft weight of his lips, and the pulling ache in her heart. It was as if he’d kissed her a thousand times before.
This was their dream—one of them. Sitting in the shadows, overwhelmed by the unchangeable truths and seeking shelter in each other. It made no sense at all, yet a sense of rightness blanketed her.
Warm lips trailed across her damp lashes, pressing kisses to her eyes. “I have you,” he whispered. “I’ll protect you.”
Her gaze lifted, her face angling closer. He was so beautiful, so different from anyone else she’d ever met.
She leaned in, her heart tripping with uncertainty and her curiosity guiding her more than her courage. He didn’t close the distance, but waited for her.
Soft, like the petal of a flower, her lips traced over his. Desire coiled in her belly. Her fingers sifted through his silky hair, pulling him closer. “Kiss me, Adam.”
His eyes watched her closely, his fingers tracing the column of her throat where her pulse thundered. “Close your eyes.”
Her lashes lowered and he caught the back of her head, the hand on her hip jerking her closer as he angled her face. His lips sealed over hers with more intention than any kiss should own. His lips were firm, demanding, and he consumed her with his mouth, his tongue laying claim to parts of her without even touching her naked flesh.
When he pulled away, she panted and blinked up at him. “Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times before?”
“Perhaps it’s the universe telling you we’ll kiss a million times again.”
Her mouth hooked in a half smile. If they were kisses like that, she might not object.
Her brow furrowed as she considered how close they were. She looked down and he caught her chin, giving her a stern look.
“Don’t come to your senses just yet.” He fisted the fabric of her gown and yanked her forward, pressing his lips to hers.
She twisted, climbing to her knees and straddling his lap. Her thighs encased his and while he still wore his pants, she wore nothing beneath the thin gown.
His hand gripped her nightgown, pulling the fabric taut as he nudged her closer. His arousal pressed to her core and she gasped.
He used her surprise to deepen the kiss, driving his tongue deep and sweeping over hers in a coaxing game. He tasted extraordinary, sweet, drugging, and potent. She wanted more of him.
Tightening her arms around his broad shoulders, she rocked her hips. His indisputable masculinity emphasized the delicate feminine traits of hers.
He eased her to the bed, his body covering hers as their kisses intensified, stirring a deep hunger in her she wasn’t sure even sex would satisfy. His body ground into hers.
Her fingers knotted in his hair as her body lifted against his, grinding, greedily stealing every inch of friction she could feel.
“More,” she whispered, teasingly biting and nipping at his mouth.
He growled and pinned her with his weight, digging his erection against her core and dropping his mouth to her shoulder. He panted against her ear, his tongue licking and teasing.
“Yes,” she breathed, stretching her neck and angling it closer for his wicked mouth.
He tore his mouth away, turning his face into her shoulder. Everything stilled except their heavy breathing. He no longer kissed her but still held her pinned beneath him.
“Adam?”
His breath caressed her shoulder as his body trembled against hers. She touched her fingers to his spine.
“Is everything all right?”
He practically preened into her touch like a cat. “I nearly lost control.”
She frowned.
Her gown raveled around her hips, leaving her sex exposed. The only thing barring his erection from entering her was the panel of his pants.
“Maybe we both did.”
He slowly sat up, drawing the material of her nightgown over her thighs. She drew her knees together as he draped his legs over the edge of the bed. He wouldn’t look at her, his hand covering his mouth and his eyes closed.
“Are you upset?” He looked as if he couldn’t bear the thought of what they’d just done.
“I need a moment to find my bearings.” His face angled away.
She wasn’t sure what this was or why he suddenly couldn’t look at her, but it felt an awful lot like rejection. “I thought you wanted to.”
He noticeably stiffened. “If you trust one thing, Anna, trust that I do and will want you for as long as I live.”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
“Because I think the day has taken a toll on you and I don’t want to make it worse.” He dragged a hand over his face, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m better now.”
She continued to frown. “Better?”
“You push my control.”
She didn’t know if that was a compliment. “Sorry?”
He sighed and glanced at the door. “Stay the night with me, not because you can’t find your way home in the dark or because you feel like a prisoner here, but because you want to.”
“You’d really let me leave?”
“If that’s what you truly wanted, I wouldn’t stop you.”
Somehow knowing she had the freedom to leave made staying less frustrating. If she could just walk out the door, she’d rather do it in daylight. “If I stay, will we…”
His chest expanded. “I want it to mean as much to you as it does to me.”
Her lips twisted. “I’m not—”
“I know. Which is another reason why I stopped.”
Now that she felt less like a hostage, she saw a bit of that honor everyone claimed he had. “It would be really great if you actually were a good guy.”
He smiled. “I plan on spending the rest of my life proving that to you.”
She was undecided if she’d leave tomorrow or stay a few days, but she liked this side of him. “I’ll stay tonight.”
His hand reached for hers and squeezed. “That makes the fear of thinking you might leave worth the worry. I prefer you to be here of your own free will.”
That made two of them.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Come to me.”
Annalise awoke, strangely relieved to find herself still in Adam’s room and disappointed to find herself alone. The dark curtain covering the window illuminated with a pre-dawn glow of silver and blue. She swept her hair away from her face and touched her toes to the cool wood flooring.
“Come to me.”
Adam’s voice whispered through the walls. Her gown fell in gossamer ripples to the floor. Though the morning light shined through the curtains, the hall was dark.
“Adam?”
“Come to me.”
She stepped into the hall only to find herself standing amid a dark forest. Creatures chirped and hummed from every direction. The skeletal silhouette of a leafless tree towered in the distance. She’d been here before.
“Adam?” Her call echoed, emphasizing the hollow distance and vastness that surrounded her.
She strode deeper into the woods, not yet penetrated by the encroaching dawn. The fresh air wore the scent of rain, awakening the earthy smells of the forest and pulling her deeper into its secrets.
Dragging her fingers along the palm of a long fern, she sucked in a breath and jerked her fingers to her mouth. The metallic taste of blood met her tongue.
She examined the damage. Nothing more than a paper cut. She should keep moving.
Her next step landed awkwardly, and she slipped, catching a branch and steadying her balance. She lifted the piece of fruit that tripped her. An orange.
The bright golden peel vibrantly contrasted the gray surroundings. Her thumb pierced the rind and the fruit split open, a sticky trickle escaping down her thumb to her wrist and racing all the way to her elbow.
So thirsty.
She pulled the rind apart, drawing the dark red pulp to her lips and sucking the juice. “Mmm.”
She peeled more of the skin and sank her teeth into the fruit. The pulp was so dark with juice, the inner pink flesh stained her fingers with crimson. It must be a blood orange. She drank from the tissue, a crush of flavor so intense she spared nothing.
Drippings dampened the front of her gown, but for the first time in a long time, her thirst was quenched. But only for a moment.
She tossed the hollow rind away and continued toward an old tree that drew her near. The air wore a sweet perfume that lured her.
Chirps clicked and squeaked from unseen shadows, materializing in a tonal roar so loud it seemed audibly tangible. Her thirst returned. The sultry heat drained her body until she could barely swallow.
She searched the forest floor for water. A brook or a puddle. Anything. But the ground wavered and her equilibrium shifted. When she looked up, a plump orange dangled from a decrepit branch as if it were a relic from the Garden of Eden, placed there simply to tempt her.
She pulled it from the vine and ripped it open, gorging herself on the sweet center. She fed from the fruit with such gluttony she lost sight of her surroundings.
Something brushed her foot and she lifted her face from the orange, her lips dripping with crimson and her tongue slowly licking along her teeth.
The insidious chirping smothered all other sound, darkness snuffing out all light. The tree rippled as if the branches were alive and something tumbled to the ground.
She staggered on the unsteady ground, the earth tickling at her feet, hoping to find another orange. She squinted through the dark as something, no larger than a hummingbird, flapped and tossed around on the ground. She edged closer, trying to see if it was wounded.
The incessant chirping and squeaking had her hands subconsciously lifting to her ears. When she finally got close enough to see, she froze. Not a bird. A bat. And it wasn’t the only one.
Her gaze jerked to the tree, the branches bending under their overwhelming weight. Hundreds of bats gathered along every square inch, squeezing in wherever they could fit and fighting for whatever was underneath.
She stepped back only to trip over a twisted root and fall to the ground. The deafening screeching swallowed her scream as one looked directly at her and hissed, exposing twin fangs. It crawled on all fours, little claws protruding from the wings like talons.
Red dripped from its rumpled snout. She crab crawled away as it charged toward her, and slipped to her elbows when it rose on its tiny hind legs and spread its wings.
The ground rippled against her skin, something sharp puncturing her thigh and she screamed. They were everywhere. Thousands of tiny bats crawling like spiders to get to her skin.
Swarms of them crawled over her limbs, pulling her down as she screamed. Clammy wings slapped against her flesh as their fangs pierced her skin. Tiny sores burned everywhere they bit. Like furry frogs, they squealed in the night, their cries overlapping and swallowing her own.
Blood seeped through her gown as they dug their claws into her, biting into her flesh. She thrashed and scraped her hands down her legs and torso, ripping their teeth from her skin and flinging them away, but they kept coming.
One bit into her throat and pure hysteria took hold as she screamed for help.
“Annalise!”
Her body jerked and the screeching stopped. Shaking and panting with jagged breath, she opened her eyes. Adam wore a pained look of concern, begging her to focus and look into his eyes.
“Look at me, Anna. I have you.”
Disoriented, she scanned the room. A dream. But how much was a dream?
He cupped her cheek and she flinched away from his touch. He frowned and whispered, “You’re safe.”
She g
lanced at the door, unsure where the dream started, and reality had left off. “I’m still here.”
His brow tightened. “You said you would stay.”
She swallowed, tasting a hint of sweetness on her tongue. She looked at her thumb, examining it for a cut.
“What’s wrong?”
“I cut myself.” She thought she had.
“When?”
“It was just a dream.” She dropped her hand and he grabbed it. When she tried to pull away, he tightened his grip and gave her a warning look.
“Let me see.” He unfolded her fingers and studied her hand. He drew in a deep breath through his nose. “You’re not bleeding.”
“I know. It was just a nightmare.”
He continued to hold her hand and frown. “Explain it to me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Please.”
She twisted her lips. “I thought you were calling me. I heard you, but I couldn’t find you. I followed your voice into the woods.”
“You’re sure it was my voice?”
“I thought… I’m not sure.” She didn’t know what was more unsettling, when he acted like he shared her dreams or when he acted like he took no part in them. “This is stupid.”
“No. Tell me more. You followed a voice into the woods…”
She ran a hand over her face. “There was this big tree and I was eating oranges—blood oranges. And this horrible screeching. Everything was black and gray, and it was hard to see. I was incredibly thirsty, but the oranges tasted so good. Then there were bats everywhere, but not normal ones. These were tiny, with fangs, and they sort of flopped and crawled. They were biting me, and I couldn’t fight them off.”
“They were feeding from you?”
She shivered. “Yes.” Her hands brushed down her arms where phantom bites still tingled.
“What did the voice say?”
“Come to me.”
“Anything else?”
“No, it just kept calling come to me, come to me. It’s like I was compelled to follow it.”
He released her hand and sat back, a deep frown furrowing his brow. “I need to speak to my grandfather.”
He climbed off the bed and she caught his arm. “You’re leaving?”
Original Sin (The Order of Vampires Book 1) Page 18
