by A. M. Hudson
“But it was okay for David to do it?”
“I—” all my words dropped out onto the pavement in front of me.
“See?”
“David didn’t torture Rochelle.”
“Didn’t he? Did Jason show you the whole story?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you notice anything odd about the way she was sitting?”
“Rochelle?”
Eric nodded; I wandered back through my mind, trying to find the memory Jason shoved down my throat, but there was nothing. It was gone. “I don’t remember.”
“What if he did? What if David tortured that poor girl so badly she prayed for death?”
“Stop it. Don’t say that.”
“Amara. Tell me. What if he had? Would you still love him? Would you think David justified to have revenge on Jason if it were the other way around?” He waited for my answer, clutching closed fingers around his knee. “Look, I’m sorry you were the entity of one man’s revenge—you just got in the middle of the wrong feud, is all, but Jason’s not the bad guy.”
“Or maybe they both are.”
“But you still love David. And you still haven’t gotten up and walked away from the very same creature that they are.”
I looked down at my shoes. He’s right. I should leave. But I can’t. “People make mistakes, Eric.”
“So you forgive Jason?”
“No.”
“David?”
“I love him.” I shrugged. “I can’t help how I feel.”
“And Jason loved Rochelle.”
“So you’re siding with him?”
“I don’t take sides. You’ll learn that about me very quickly, kiddo. Neutral is safe.”
I wanted to slap him, but the truth was...I needed him, so I smiled instead. “Well, since you’re neutral, you’ll just have to be my informant then.”
“Informant on what?”
“On what’s going on with...with these laws and changes.”
“Hm.” He nodded. “Want me to keep an eye for David, huh?”
I twiddled my fingers in my lap. “If you could.”
“Does that mean we get to hang out?”
“I guess so.”
“Then it’s a deal.”
“But only if it’s arranged—none of this stalking stuff. Okay?”
“Shake on it?” He extended his hand. When I placed mine in his, a small quiver of electricity charged our touch—making me tingle from fingernails to elbow. I dropped my hand into my lap.
God, he makes everything on me tingle—makes me forget everything I want or don’t want, everything I like and dislike. I looked sideways at him, trying not to smile at his smug grin, wondering if he might possibly be reading my mind. “What?” I asked finally.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that—” he took a breath and swallowed, “David said your eyes were amazing, but I never imagined they’d look like the sun shining on the bluest ocean. It’s a shame you won’t love again—I’d have fun with you.”
“Love? You?” I laughed.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re a vampire.”
“So, you loved David, he was a vampire.”
“I didn’t know that when I fell for him.”
“You’re falling for me.”
A moment of silence hovered around us. “I’m not.”
“Denial is a river in Egypt. It has no place here.”
“Oh, shut up!”
Eric laughed warmly when I slapped his thigh with the back of my hand. Then, sobering himself with a wipe of his palm across his jaw, he said, “So, you drank his blood, huh?”
“Yes.”
“And he drank yours?”
“What’s your point?”
He looked at my lips. “How was it?”
While the memory of that day by the lake flooded my heart, I closed my eyes. “It was—beautiful.”
Eric stared ahead and tapped his foot. “I’ve never done it—with a willing human. Must’ve been exhilarating for him.”
“I wouldn’t know, and neither will you—not with me.” Time to go. I stood up, folding my arms over my chest.
“Aw, come on, Amara,” Eric called, following me across the road. “Just do it with me once. Just once.”
“No way. I could never trust you with my blood. I can’t get bitten again, Eric—I might not survive.”
“Well, what if I let you drink mine? I won’t take yours.” He stopped on the median line.
I stopped too, thinking about it—imagining it. “No—” shaking off the image, I unlocked my car. “It’s too intimate. I’ll never do that again.”
“I’ll keep trying until you say yes,” he called as I hopped in and slammed the door.
Oh, my God. I wrapped my fingers in a bone-white grip around the steering wheel. I want to say yes—I want to get out of this car right now and tell him to come home with me.
I watched him in my rear-view mirror, walking down the street—back toward the music shop, then shook my head and flipped the mirror so I could see my own face. “If we’d been alone, then...” I said, touching my cheek. I would’ve done it. I know myself. I definitely would have. When I drank David’s blood, it made me feel so good—energised me; I felt light and yet kind of powerful. The life force in their bodies must seep out through their blood as well as their, er...seed. I’m sure it has healing properties, too, because after that, my bruises healed a little faster than normal and even the slit where he took my blood healed within the week. But it wore off so quickly—leaving me craving and bitter inside.
I’d better stay away from Eric. If he keeps pressing me, I will give in. I want to give in.
But, no more vampires. I have to stay away from anyone who is at risk of my falling in love with them.
Chapter 3
As I knew it would, the weekend finally arrived. I slammed the front door on the Friday behind me and called into the house to see if anyone was home.
“In here, baby.”
Emily, when I walked into the dining area, sat back in her chair, wiping tears of obvious hilarity from her eyes. “Mike’s been filling me in on all your quirky little habits, Ara.”
“Mike!” I dropped my purse onto the hallstand near the archway.
“What?” He shrugged. “You’re funny.”
Emily stifled another giggle when I glared at her.
“Well, I have a few funny tales of my own.”
“Go ahead.” Mike stood up and carried his and Emily’s plates to the bench. “But there’s no way any stories about me will be as funny as your Perkins Park one.”
My eyes widened. “You didn’t?”
He chuckled, looking at Emily, who couldn’t hold it back any longer. “Oh my God. I’m gonna wet myself,” she cried, running from the room.
Mike and I looked at each other for a second before we both chuckled.
“I can’t believe you told her that.”
“Aw, Ar, she doesn’t care. She’s your friend. She loves you.”
“Hm.” I walked over and plonked down on the kitchen chair. “Well, I’m glad to see you two are getting along.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? We’ve always gotten along.”
I shrugged. “I dunno. It’s just weird that she doesn’t hate you anymore.”
“She never hated me.”
My arched brow responded.
“Well, she musta got over it pretty quick. My devilishly handsome face’ll do that.” He took on the pose of a male model, strutting his stuff as he placed a glass plate on the table in front of me. The warm smell of rice and green beans filled the air with a homely feel—Mike’s homely feel.
“So, what did you get up to today?” I asked.
“Stayed home. Em did too.”
“She did?”
“Yeah, well, she came out all dressed for classes, but we got talking, and she ended up just staying home.”
“You’re a bad influence,” I said, digging
into my dinner. “But I’m glad to see her smile. I was worried about her today.”
“She’s worried about you, too.”
“Me? Why?” I said with my mouthful.
“She thinks you’re not eating.” Mike laughed, looking at my full gob. “I told her you’re incapable of starvation.”
“Why would she think that?”
He lifted my wrist with his fingertips. “This.”
“What, so I’m a little skinny—so what?”
“She thinks you’re starving yourself deliberately.”
“Why would I do that?”
He shrugged, then wandered over to the kitchen again.
“Wait, you don’t agree with her, do you?”
He shrugged again and folded his arms, leaning his butt on the edge of the bench. “Are you?”
“No.”
“Okay then.”
Incredulity rose up in me like heat. I wanted to jump up and wipe the smug grin off his face, then erase all the gossip those two had shared today. Conspirers. How dare they. They don’t know me! They don’t know what’s going on in my life. I dropped my fork onto my plate. “You big fat jerk. You do agree with her, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really know what to believe. The fact is, Ar—” he turned back to face me, pointing to his thumb, “—you are thinner than usual. Emily says she never sees you eat, and—” He stopped.
“And what?”
“And...Emily thinks it might be ‘cause of me.”
“What? Why?”
“She...she thinks you’re not over me.” He turned back to the sink, resting his hands on the edge of the bench; I caught a flash of yellow from the corner of my eye and turned to look at Emily, hiding behind the wall with a look of apology in her awkward grin. She waved at me; I scowled at her, then smiled.
“What would not being over you have to do with starving myself,” I said the last words a little louder, aiming them at Emily with a hint of spite.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“That maybe...you’re punishing yourself. That maybe you...maybe you feel like you made a mistake and now you...want me back.”
“Oh.” I looked down at my dinner; the steam had wafted away, the cold turning the rice gluggy. “She’s right in one sense.”
He turned his head a fraction to gaze sideways at me, past his shoulder.
“I know I made a mistake leaving you, but—”
“Ara.” Mike rolled his head back. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Mike, you know I still love you. Why is it so ridiculous to think I might be aware of what a big mistake it was to let you go?”
“Because I’m really struggling with losing you. I’m not okay. So please don’t hurt me by saying things like that.”
“I’m sorry, Mike.”
In the hallway, Emily covered her mouth, her eyes filling with signs of concern. I sighed heavily. There’s no way to fix this. I don’t know how to be just friends with Mike—how to be around him without wishing he’d love me.
“You see?” I said, feeling like an idiot. “This is why I didn’t take your calls, Mike.”
He stood, wordless, by the edge of the sink, looking into the drain of useless emotions. “I needed to see you, Ara,” he said out of the blue. “I need to have you in my life, but you have to be careful. I’ll always be your friend, but if you don’t want to love me then please don’t say it—it burns me.”
“I’m sorry. But I do love you, and you being here has unearthed all those feelings. I forced myself to let you go, for your own good—and now you’re back.”
“I promised you, Ara.” He turned to face me, and even though I could see anger in his eyes, it still felt so good to see his face—here, in my kitchen, where I never thought I’d see him. “I promised I’d always be here, and I intend to keep that promise. When I left you, I was only going home to tie up loose ends. There’s nothing there for me now.”
“We can get past this, Mike, we’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.” He sniffed, then nodded to my plate. “Eat.”
The evening light snuck through the window then and outlined the contours of his broad, round shoulders. We watched each other, silently exchanging thoughts through our facial expressions. I had to hold back the smile in me when I followed the scruffy stubble along his cheeks and neck, making him look incredibly gruff—in a sexy way.
When he saw my obvious look of lust, the hard line of tension that pressed his lips dissolved, and we both just smiled. There was no point trying to deny that we wanted to smile. And it seemed pointless trying to deny my feelings. Fact is, I do love him still, and I don’t like it when he’s mad with me. I want it to be like it used to be, when I could hug him or lay in his arms, and neither of us thought anything of it. I liked it when we were just friends.
But, I guess, in truth, we were never just friends, really, were we? We both always wanted more. Sadly, I still do, though I can’t explain it to myself and it would make no sense to anyone else if admitted that. Quite simply, and repeatedly, my own answers to my “What should I do?” are always “You should have married him.”
“How’s dessert coming along?” Emily beamed in her usual, bright manner, as she came around the corner.
Mike took the breath that ended the argument, and opened the fridge. “Pie sound good?”
“Pie sounds great,” I said, overly chirpy.
“Fine with me.” Em shrugged, and as soon as Mike leaned into the fridge, she bent over and said, really close to my ear, “You need your head read, Ara.”
As she sat down, I mouthed the word “Why.”
She nodded to Mike, who was sniffing the custard carton. “He’s a good guy.”
“I know, Em. But it’s not enough. I—”
“We need more custard,” Mike said, looking up, showing a hint of confusion under his frown when Emily and I suddenly sat back in our chairs. “Uh...so...shall I go get some?” He held the carton up.
“No. I’ll do it,” I said and stood up. Emily followed me out to the front entrance.
“What the hell do you want, Ara?” she raised her voice softly, pointing toward the kitchen. “Love wasn’t enough with David, the perfect guy isn’t enough with Mike—what are you looking for?”
“I don’t know.” Because love was enough with David, but not enough to make him stay with a mortal. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
Emily grabbed my arm in her gentle, feminine grip. “You’re going to lose him if you don’t wake up.”
“If I could wake up, Em, I wouldn’t be in this nightmare.” I brushed her hand off me, grabbed my keys and walked away.
As the engine stopped and the vibration of the car halted, I stared at the house for a moment. That’s funny. It got dark unusually quick tonight. I could’ve sworn it was lighter when I left work. There must be a storm on the way or something. Now...I had something I needed to do, but I can’t remember what it was...
“Ara?”
I jumped and looked up at the person who tapped on my window. “Hey.”
“Where’ve you been?” His voice came muffled through the glass.
I wound down the window. “Work.”
“No. You went to get custard—over an hour ago.”
My body flooded with a shock of heat. Custard. I did too. “I know I did. I was being funny.”
“So—” Mike looked to my passenger seat. “Where’s the custard?”
I looked too—at the empty seat. “They were all out.” Yes, brilliant! “Sorry. I tried other stores, but...”
Mike stood back and opened my door. “Are you okay, baby?”
“Me? Fine. Why?”
“Mike?” Emily popped her head out the front door, holding a mobile phone.
“Yeah?”
“Dodger’s on the phone.” Her tone rose in question, probably at the weird name.
Mike sighed, then looked at me before backing away. “Thanks, Emily.”
�
�Hey, beautiful.” Eric popped up before the front door even closed.
“Eric!” I covered my chest to steady my heart. “You scared me.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” He took my hand and pulled me from the car.
“What are you doing here?”
“Dinner. Remember? We’re supposed to be going out tonight.”
“Oh yeah.” I slapped my palm to my head. “I remember now.”
“Wait, you forgot? Dinner? With me?”
“Get over yourself, Eric,” I said. “You don’t exactly occupy all my random thoughts.”
“As long as I occupy the ones you have when you’re alone...at night.” His wicked, suggestive grin saturated my arms and legs with liquid heat, and most probably turned my cheeks pink. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that’s a yes.”
“It’s only because you’re a vampire.” Nothing to do with how sweet and gentle and charming you are.
“Well—” he looked away for a second, shuffling his feet to hide his bashful smile, “—I’m kinda starting to like you for more than just the unbearable desire to feast on you.”
“Good to know.” I nodded, then looked at the car. “Should we go? I’m starving.”
“Imagine how I feel then.”
My response was nothing more than a shake of my head as I sat back in the driver’s seat.
“You know?” Eric said, appearing in the passenger side before I had my seatbelt on. “We could go somewhere private instead.”
“Private? Why?” I clicked my buckle into place, then started the engine.
Eric’s smile gleamed in the gentle light reflecting off the garage door. “I can hear your heart beat, Amara.”
I swallowed, silently cursing the rapid thumping in my chest. “And you think it’s because I want to do things with you? In private?”
“I love it when you do that.” He held my gaze.
“What?”
“Pretend you don’t want me. It’s very endearing.”
“I don’t want you.”
“Yes, you do.” He looked to the front again.
“Well, even if that were true—” And it is, “—I won’t give in to it. You’re making me want you—it’s not fair.”
“And what do you think you’re doing to me?” He shook his head but kept his smile. “Every time your heart beats or you smooth your tongue across your lips or uncross your legs...” He shook his head again. “I’m a guy first, Amara, vampire second. I have needs.”
