by Jen Pretty
I pushed at Drew’s chest, and he set my feet on the ground. Vaughn took in my face and appearance.
“Is it over? Is my brother dead?” he asked, his face serious.
I looked down. I didn’t want to be the person to tell him I had killed his brother. I was sure he would take it the same way Vincent had and reject me, kick me out of his house.
He scooped me up in his arms and swung me around. “Thank you, Durga, for freeing my brother from his pain.”
I tried to look at him, and he set my feet down. My confusion must have shown.
“He was a good man and a gentle soul before he fell. He tried to lead us all on the right path,” he said. A tear fell from his eye, and he smiled sadly. “He was a good man. I am glad he is finally free.”
“Is Vincent here?” I asked. Not sure what to say to Vaughn. His reaction was unexpected.
“My brother stopped by to say goodbye and then left for home about an hour ago,” he said.
I nodded and moved to go up the stairs. Drew had gone that way, I wanted to find a bed and sleep in it for a few days.
“He will come around,” Vaughn said from behind me. I stopped my foot on the first step and looked back at him. Vaughn blinked at me with the same eyes as Vincent; as Elliot. I felt a stab in my chest at the thought. I took a deep breath and smiled at Vaughn though I didn’t feel happy. I didn’t want to rest all my hopes and dreams on one vampire. It was too much, but if that witch had shown me the future, Vincent would have to forgive me someday. I climbed the stairs and followed the sound of my lion snoring to a bedroom with a big plush bed. I hoped it was a spare room and Singh hadn’t just stolen someone's room as I kicked off my shoes.
I peeled off Vilen’s jacket and my bloody T-shirt. My sports bra wasn’t too disgusting, but my pants had to go. My broken leg had soaked my pants with blood. I grabbed the first thing I found in the closet and took a shower. It was harder than I imagined scrubbing the dried blood off my skin as tears blinded me. The clothes from the closet turned out to be a giant sweater, I pulled it on and crawled into bed with Singh, curling into his warm back. I couldn't sleep, but laying down with my eyes closed felt good. My muscles ached, but mostly my heart. What a ridiculous life I was living. After about an hour of watching Singh twitch in his sleep, I got up.
There were no pants in the closet that would fit me, but the sweater hung almost to my knees. I could apologize to whoever owned the sweater I had stolen, but the size suggested I was in Vilen or Ninel’s. I had met no other vampires as big as them here.
I wandered through the house towards the kitchen. Several vampires were in the dining room as I went by, but when I walked into the kitchen, Kelly was the only one around.
“Oh, you look like shit,” she said. I felt like shit, so it wasn’t a surprise. I laughed though. The laughter soon turned to sobs and her thin arms wrapped around my shoulders. I cried on her shoulder for several minutes as she rubbed my back.
“It will be ok, Lark,” she whispered when my sobs turned to sniffles.
"I’m sorry," I said, straightening and noticing the tear stains I had left on her shoulder. Shit. "I'm sorry."
“Don’t worry about it. Why don’t we get out of here? You could probably use a drink.” I think I loved Kelly at that moment. She picked out some clothes for me and shoved me toward a shower. I hadn't done a great job in the first shower, so I took my time and got clean, washing my hair and then brushing it too. I put on a cute tight dress and heels. Not my typical clothes, but I wasn’t feeling my typical self anymore. I wanted to be someone else for one night.
When Kelly stopped her car in front of a nightclub with music pounding, I knew I loved her.
We walked in, and eyes followed us. We nearly matched in our outfits. The fog of sadness faded. A few drinks later, I forgot my sadness completely. I danced and drank the night away. Feeling young and normal. Durga left me alone, but I felt her sadness under the surface occasionally when I was too sober. A few more drinks and I forgot all about Durga too.
By the time the club was closing, Kelly and I were laughing and chatting with some cute Russian men. Well, Kelly was talking, I was ogling and didn’t hide it.
“Lark,” a voice said behind me. I froze. I knew the voice and knew, deep down in my bones, something had happened, and I wouldn't like it.
I turned to look at Drew’s serious face. Singh and Ninel stood behind him.
I considered making a run for the ladies' room so they couldn’t say the words I didn’t want to hear.
Too late, he was right in front of me.
“They are reporting the slaughter of an entire village,” he said. Ruining my night completely and bringing me back to the real world. I looked at Kelly. She was still talking with the Russians. Laughing. Oblivious. Her life was so much simpler. I wished for her life.
I walked back over and said goodbye.
She hugged me and told me to be careful. I turned back to the team.
“All right, let's go to India,” I said.
At least it would be hot there.
The End
Mourning Lark Copyright © 2019 by Jen Pretty. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Cover designed by Kudi-design
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Jen Pretty
Visit my website at www.jenprettyauthor.com
Printed in the United States of America
First Printing: Jan 2019
ISBN-9781775290667
