“Yes, that’s probably true,” I say. “A lot has happened.”
“I’m worried our friendship can’t survive it,” she says, tears springing to her eyes. She plays with her long, blonde hair and looks away.
I swallow back the lump rising in my throat. “No, no, that’s not true, Cara. I care about you. I’d do anything for you. We hit a rough patch but everything is okay now.”
“Is it?” she asks. “I mean, I haven’t seen you since I got home from the hospital. You didn’t visit when I was there.”
“I was…not well myself,” I say. “It took time to heal.”
“So tell me what was going on with you, Amy. Tell me. I’m your best friend. You’re supposed to tell me everything.”
I look away, feeling my shoulders tense. I am so tired of lying to people. “I can’t tell you about this, Cara. But know that I would if I could.”
She sits quietly for a long time. Finally, she says, “I’ve got some work stuff to catch up on. Maybe we can talk again when you feel like being honest.”
“It’s not that I don’t feel like being honest, Cara,” I say. “There are just some things that would put you in danger if I shared them with you. That’s the nature of my job sometimes.”
“And it’s your job that has caused all of this for you. Made you unwell, I think is how you just put it?” She looks unconvinced.
“Because of a case, I was pulled into some things that got very ugly. I mean, you know my dog was killed as a threat to me, right?”
Her face softens. “Yes, I remember.”
“It got worse. Much worse, and since then, I’ve been pulled into some pretty dangerous business. But it’s not important now. What’s important is that we’re both safe and healing.”
“I really wish you could open up,” she says. “I wish you could explain because I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”
“Maybe someday I can,” I say. “But I promise I am here for you if you need me.”
“I’m not sure I believe that,” she says tensely, crossing her arms. She inhales and exhales sharply. “I think it would be good if you could go now.”
I stand and nod. “I’m sorry, Cara. I love you. If nothing else, remember that. You are like a sister to me.”
She doesn’t respond as I walk out the door.
Still mulling over the tense conversation, I decide to take a jog before heading home. Cara’s neighborhood is quite a bit nicer than mine and feels safer for a nighttime run.
I start out slowly, knowing that that last thing I want is to end up cramping as I did earlier. The pace is good, though, and once I’m over the initial cardiovascular stress, the running feels amazing. I can’t even begin to describe what running does for a person like me. I tend to overanalyze things, it’s the scientist in me perhaps, and running allows me to put one foot in front of the other and focus only on my form and my movement and the way my body feels.
As I push forward, I’m so lost in my thoughts that I don’t notice Vincent until he grabs my arm, jolting me back to the moment. I immediately go into self-defense mode, launching a roundhouse kick to his sternum.
It helps in getting him to let go of my arm, but it’s also like kicking a tree, so I hop around a little, my foot and leg smarting a bit, while he looks at me with a semi-amused expression on his beautiful face.
“Vincent?” I stammer, holding my hand to my rapidly beating heart as I shake out my leg. “You’re lucky I didn’t take your head off just now. You can’t just go around grabbing people!”
“I doubt very much that you could accomplish such a feat,” he says, smirking. “I barely felt that kick and I assume that you are stronger than most human females.”
“That is true and frightening,” I answer. “Guess I’d better start carrying a wooden stake, then. I bet you’d feel that.”
He nods, considering this. “Yes, I believe I would,” We both pause for a moment. A sense of longing lingers between us. It feels like an eternity since the last time we saw each other. “But that is irrelevant to the reason I came to find you.”
I can’t help myself, maybe it is all the endorphins from running, but I suddenly find myself unable to control my emotions. “Oh, you mean you came to tell me where the hell you have been?” I ask, jerking my arm away. “I nearly died saving you and then you just disappear?”
“I thought you might want…space,” he says. “You were very badly injured and I felt it was safer to leave you alone to process and heal.”
“You just…left,” I said. My heart is still beating fast but it’s not because of the running or because he startled me. “You left after I told you I thought I was in love with you.”
He stares at me as if he can see right through me, his blue eyes brilliant in the evening light. His long, blond hair flows around his broad shoulders and he reminds me of the cover of a romance novel.
“I don’t think that you understand, Amy,” he says. “I nearly killed you. I thought I had killed you. I was ashamed.”
“You were…ashamed?” I ask, confused. “Vincent, you’re a vampire. I can’t have been the only person you’ve ever drunk dry.”
“No, that is true,” he says, “but I very much like you alive. As well, I knew that you were willing to give your life for mine, and that was too much to bear. I have had more than 500 years on this earth. You are so young. It is not an even trade–your life for mine.”
“Well, that’s what you do when you…” I don’t finish the sentence. I switch gears, saying, “You have done the same for me, and for the people I care about. I was simply returning the life debt.”
“For what it is worth, it has been torture leaving you alone. I have thought of you many times,” he says. “I have thought of your sacrifice, of course, but also of your bravery.”
“I thought you were going to say you’ve thought of my body,” I say, laughing nervously. “Sorry, I make weird jokes sometimes.”
Vincent lacks in the humor department. There are things that amuse him, for sure, but my dumb jokes are not among them. The story of a nerdy girl’s life, I guess.
“I did think of your body, as well,” Vincent says, moving closer, his lips very near the sensitive skin of my neck.
Feeling suddenly dizzy, I look around and realize we’ve somehow moved off the lit street and into a darkened alleyway. How the hell did that happen? Vincent steps close to me, his arms on either side of my head, braced against the brick I’ve run into.
“Amy,” he says quietly, his lips now touching my ear.
A shiver of lust runs down my spine to pool in my core. I thought maybe this attraction would have faded, but it has not.
“Vincent,” I respond, a little breathlessly. “I can’t…this isn’t…I’m with Damon.”
His lips are on mine in an instant, quieting my protests. It’s a searing kiss, hard and hot. No other parts of our bodies touch but they might as well. I could probably have an orgasm just like this.
When he breaks the kiss, he steps back, pushing his hands through his hair. I know that stopping is probably not easy for him. For vampires, sex is a mixture of claiming and war and sensuality. It is not an act of love, and it involves the exchanging of blood. Once the act begins, it is very hard to stop the bloodlust.
I try to peek into his mind, to feel what he is feeling in this odd moment, but he shuts me down.
“I am sorry,” he says. “I should not have done that. But please do not look into my thoughts at this time.”
I feel a little disoriented. I shake my head to clear the lust-fog that kissing Vincent has created. “You’re right. I should not have entered your mind like that,” I say. “But I haven’t felt connected to you at all since…”
“I have purposely worked to stay disconnected from you mentally,” he says. “I truly wanted to give you back to him. It is safer for you that way.”
Oh great, another man thinking he knows what’s best for little ole Amy, tiny little helpless female.
&nb
sp; I narrow my eyes at the vampire. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I hate having other people decide what’s best for me without consulting me on the matter. I am an adult, you know that right?”
Vincent’s mouth quirks. It’s not a smile, but he does seem amused by my outburst. Oh, now he thinks I’m funny.
“Vincent,” I say, “I am going to go find a piece of wood right now and put it in your heart if you don’t stop smirking at me. And if you kiss me again, I’ll…”
“You will like it,” he says simply, putting his hands in his pockets.
I sigh. “Vincent, I’m glad to see you. I truly am. But what is it you need?”
“Okay, yes,” he says. “There is a reason I came to find you, aside from kissing you.”
“Oh, well, thank goodness for that,” I say dryly.
“The coven is concerned about the growth of a dark power in the area recently,” he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hip, motorcycle jacket.
“The coven?” I ask. “Oh, you mean Joseph, Mika, and Ivanka?”
He nods once, sharply. “They like you quite a lot. They wanted me to make another offer for you to join them, learn from them. They were, in fact, a very powerful coven of witches in another life”
I take a deep breath and look around. “They did offer that, to help me learn. They promised not to harm me.”
“I believe they would keep that promise,” he says. “But you do realize, Amy, that while they are not like most vampires in many ways, they are still vampires. They would find a way to help you hone your power, but it would not come without a cost.”
“Yes, I understand,” I say.
“Do you truly?” he asks. “What Olivia did was manipulate you by threatening people she knew were meaningful to you. She used your relationships to get access to your unique power. Imagine how you could be manipulated by vampires you have come to trust.”
“You think they would use me only for my powers,” I say. “But they were witches before they were vampires. They understand what it is to have this kind of power.”
“Regardless of who they were before immortality,” Vincent says, “They are vampires now. And few things move us like power. It is very valuable to be able to feel the feelings and intentions of those who might want to do us harm. And I think we all believe you have only begun to understand the extent of what you can do, and why. You do not want the wrong people to know, once you figure it out.”
“Vincent,” I say, “would you use me like that?”
“I do not think you should trust us. Your hunter friend is right about that, at least.”
My heart sinks a little. I do believe that some vampires can be okay, almost human. Maybe I am more naïve than I think.
“Do not approach the coven without me,” Vincent says. “Can you at least promise me that?”
“Yes. I can promise that,” I say. “I do know what they’re concerned about, though. I felt it too. I think I have it pinpointed to a strip club not far from here. Three women murdered by loved ones, but none of the suspects remember anything about the murders. They all worked at the same club and when I went there, the dark magic inside was nearly suffocating.”
“I felt it, Amy,” he says. “It was fuzzy but you were more intoxicated by it than suffocated.”
“Semantics,” I say. “I didn’t like it and I think it’s linked to these murders. And you said you weren’t linked to me these past few days.”
“We are always connected. Sometimes we can make it quieter, though. I will ask the others to keep an eye out,” he says. “And I will tell them that you may need to speak with them.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I need to go.”
“Would you like a ride?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “No thank you. I actually drove to Cara’s. I’ll run back to my car and drive myself home.”
“I enjoy watching you run, Amy,” he says.
“That sounded creepy,” I answer, walking away. “But thank you. I think.”
“And thank you…for saving me from certain death,” he says.
When I turn back, he is gone.
* * *
When I return home, Damon is sitting in the living room with baseball on the television. I silently plod in and sit next to him on the couch.
“I never knew you were a baseball fan,” I say as I slip out of my shoes.
“It’s mindless,” he says. “I needed something to keep me occupied to keep myself from coming to look for you. Though I was a kid once, and I did play baseball.”
“Well, I appreciate the effort,” I say.
“It was not easy,” he admits.
“You played baseball?” I ask, changing the subject, trying to lighten the heavy mood.
“A little,” he says. “And football. I was lucky to have had more of a childhood than some Hunters I know.”
I sit for a moment, thinking about Damon as a child, trying to imagine him that way and failing miserably. After a while, I stand back up and stretch, announcing, “I’m going to take a bath.”
It’s not until the hot water and luxurious bubbles surround me and I’ve been soaking for a while that Damon comes into the bathroom. He leans against the bathroom door, bulky arms folded across his broad chest.
“Did you have a good visit with Cara?” he asks.
“No, not really,” I answer.
“That sucks,” he says. “Anything specific? Did you argue?”
“No, we didn’t argue,” I answer. “But she knows there are things I can’t tell her and she feels I’m hiding something from her on purpose. Cara was always great at telling when I was lying. She now feels the damage to our friendship is irreparable, that we’re different people than we were before all of this. I disagree, but I know it will just take time to repair our relationship.”
“I’m sorry,” he says. “For what it’s worth, I do understand how it feels to have to lie to those closest to you.”
I consider this for a moment. “Ah, Tristan and the other hunters.”
He nods. “They’re like brothers to me and they cannot understand why I would leave for you.”
“They’ve never been in love?” I ask.
He scoffs. “No. They view women as means to an end. The hunt is their first priority always. Sex is just a release.”
“Oh,” I say. “Why do you feel differently?”
“About sex?” he asks. “I didn’t, not really. Not until I met you. When I met you in that alley, I felt connected to you somehow. Like we were meant to know each other,” he says.
“I felt very safe with you immediately,” I admit.
“I never meant to fall in love with you, Amy,” he says. “But I did. And that means that I feel protective of you. I want you in my life, and keeping you safe will allow that to happen. But maybe we moved too quickly.”
“It was fast,” I agree. “Maybe too much too fast?”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t change how I feel,” he answers. “I do love you and I won’t apologize for it. Or for wanting to keep you safe.”
“And I won’t apologize for wanting to do the same for all of the people I care about,” I say.
“Including Vincent.” It’s not a question.
“Including Vincent,” I repeat. “I saw him this evening, by the way. I feel I should be honest.”
“Great,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Let me guess, he was lurking like a creep in some alley.”
“Close,” I say. “He wanted to ask if I’d come across anything weird, dark magic, or stronger power brewing.”
“I’ll bet,” he says. “He probably reached into your mind and plucked out some excuse to come see you.”
“So what if he did?” I ask.
“Amy, I left my hunter brotherhood for you,” he says.
“You mentioned that earlier,” I say, probably too sharply. “Go back if you want. I won’t stop you.”
I know I should not have said that. It was unkind, but it is unfair
of him to keep lording this over my head. He made a choice–I did not ask him to do it.
He huffs. “I want this to work. I want to be with you but I can’t if you won’t move forward with me. That means leaving the past in the past.”
“I…” I start. I get up, water splashing out of the tub. As I wrap myself in a towel, I say, “I can’t, Damon. I do care about Vincent. I’m confused about it. About all of this.”
His mouth hangs open for a moment before he snaps it shut, grinding his teeth.
“I won’t stay here and wait forever,” he says. “For a little while, I will, because I think you are worth it. But not forever.”
He turns and wanders out of the room. When I make my way to bed, the soft light of the television remains in the living room. He watches the baseball game with the sound off.
I think about sitting down next to him, about crawling on top of him, riding him in the soft light of the television. I think about using my body to show him that no matter what else is happening, I do feel this with him. My body wants him. My heart as well, even as confused and twisted as it is. Damon and I are intertwined, now. He is a part of my life and I cannot imagine him not in it.
I don’t reach out, though. I don’t speak or touch him. I just turn and head into the bedroom, tossing and turning because I am confused and angry and frustrated.
It takes a very long time to fall asleep and when I finally do, Damon still has not joined me in the bed.
Chapter 6
When my alarm goes off, I hit the snooze button, but shift to push myself out of bed anyway. If I am going to get back on Rick’s good side, being late will not help.
I’m stopped by a big arm, which pulls me back, Damon spooning me from behind. His erection presses at my backside.
“I’m still mad at you,” he says after a long yawn. “But I love you.”
His hand explores my stomach and my breasts and my body responds in kind, my nipples hardening and heat pooling between my legs.
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