Finally, she turned to him. “There’s so much more to life than what you know, but I can’t force you to see what’s right in front of you. It’s your choice.”
“My choice to do what?”
“To live.”
“Why do I have to choose?”
“You are already choosing—whether to be in the shadows or in the light. There is no such thing as not choosing because not choosing is a choice, too.” She moved close to him. “I know it will take time for you to want goodness in your life, but when that time comes, I’ll be waiting.”
“I’m not sure what you’ll be waiting for. There can never be anything between us.” And he believed it. She was crazy to think they could have any kind of relationship, even that of a friend.
She tilted her head slightly. “Maybe you’re right.”
A ribbon of moonlight stealing in through the window illuminated her sea-green eyes. He wanted desperately to read her calm expression, but there wasn’t a hint as to what she might be feeling or thinking.
She returned to the bed and sat down. “Why did you save me when I fell from the bridge?”
“I find you interesting,” was the most he could say.
“So is an ant farm. Why did you jump after me?”
He waited a minute before answering. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you being in pain.”
“And yet you hurt me tonight.”
A pain wracked his heart.
“I need you to see the monster I am,” he said with barely enough air to get the words out.
“If you truly are a monster, then why do you feel guilt?”
The pain in his heart raced to his head. These questions were twisting his brain all kinds of wrong.
“My life is complicated,” he said, because he could think of no other answer.
“Then uncomplicate it.”
“I can’t do that.”
Her shoulders dropped, and her eye closed briefly. “What happens now?”
“I’ll leave you alone.”
“I don’t want to be left alone.”
“You won’t be. You have good friends. And Charlie.” He tried not to say his name spitefully but couldn’t help it. “He would follow you to the ends of the earth.”
“I don’t want Charlie following me.” Her voice rose. “I found you for a reason.”
Lucien said nothing.
Eve stood. “Fine. You’ve made your point. You prefer your empty existence over a life of happiness.”
“It’s not like that.”
“It’s exactly like that.” She crossed the bedroom to the door. “Go back to your alley or wherever you live and keep being depressed.”
“I’m not depressed. I’m a realist.”
She gave him a cold, hard stare, and then stormed over to him, taking his hand in hers. The cells in his skin leapt as if reacting to a fierce heat.
“This is real!”
He pulled his hand away. “Not to me.”
Eve shook her head and inhaled deeply, the tight lines in her face relaxing. “I’m sorry. I said you could choose, and I meant it. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”
“Please don’t apologize. This is for the best, you’ll see.” He turned to leave but stopped to say one last thing. “I’m sorry for ruining your kitchen. I’ll send a company by in the morning to fix it.”
“I don’t care about the stupid kitchen.”
“And I’m going to leave my number downstairs. If you are ever in trouble, please call me.”
He left before she could say anything else.
Back in his car, he leaned forward and rested his head against the steering wheel, exhausted. At least he knew who she was. As for why she sought him out, it was probably more out of some sense of responsibility she felt toward him for saving her life than any deep connection between them. Sure there was a physical reaction when they’d touched, but that could be because it had been so long since he’d experienced physical contact with someone, especially that of a woman.
He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. It was better this way, he told himself as he started the car. Now that he knew who she was, he could leave her alone. Mystery solved. End of story.
13
Instead of returning to the hotel, he drove to the marina. He sat on his favorite bench that overlooked the sea and thought about nothing—for the first ten minutes. Then all he could think about was Eve.
He tried to hold still, but he didn’t remember the bench being so uncomfortable. He tried to stretch out on it, but he was too long. He tried slouching into it, but his legs were too cramped. He tried sitting up, but the back of the bench forced his body forward. How had he ever been comfortable here?
He stood up and paced the boardwalk. Behind him, the city lights glowed in the darkness.
Eve wanted to be with him. Him! Of all the people in the world, she foolishly thought he was the one who could make her happy. He couldn’t make a leech happy, let alone someone as beautiful and complicated as Eve.
Anger swelled in his chest. In one swift motion, he picked up a garbage can and tossed it far into the sea. He had to get out of Seattle. Now.
He hopped in his car and drove away from the city, not stopping until he parked his Hummer in front of his home by the coast. He couldn’t actually call it a home. That was something you lived in day to day, a sanctuary to run to. No, this was just a house—a very strange house.
It had three towers encased in grey stucco that reached into the sky like deformed fingers. They were an ugly obstruction to the rest of the house, which had smooth, architectural curves. Windows appeared where one wouldn’t expect, and the front door was almost entirely hidden by a curved stone wall.
By merely glancing at the eccentric home, onlookers often assumed the home had no door, but if they were to approach by way of a stone path, the front door seemed to materialize out of nowhere. A clever optical illusion.
The house had been on the market for over three years until Lucien had bought it, paying full price. Scott tried to convince him that it was worth only half that, but Lucien felt strongly that this house had been built for him. He would not pay less than what the builder wanted. It had been months since he’d come here, and as he walked to the front door, he wished he had never left.
Lucien stepped outside onto the deck overlooking the beach. There was just enough light in the early morning sky to watch the tide recede. A hundred yards from shore, black rocks stood as if a city floating on the water. Waves crashed against their jagged surface, spraying water in all directions.
The sea had always been an important part of his life, as it was a constant reminder of his insignificance in the world. If ever he felt greater than others because of his heightened abilities, he only had to look at the ocean. It had more power than he could ever achieve.
Four days passed. Four days of pacing and mindless reading. The odd house he normally loved felt more like a prison, but he couldn’t trust himself to go back to Seattle without seeing Eve. He hoped with enough time away from her, his strange attraction to her would wane. And maybe Eve, too, given enough time, would realize how ridiculous her feelings for him were.
It was almost two in the morning when his cell phone buzzed. Not recognizing the number , he almost didn’t answer, but at the last second, he turned it on and listened without saying a word.
“Lucien?” Eve whispered into the phone. Her voice was full of fear and panic.
“Eve? What’s wrong?” As he said the words, he was already racing to his car.
“They’ve found me again. Please, I need help.”
Lucien closed the door and revved the engine to life. “Who’s found you?”
“Vampires. I’ve killed two, but there are two more, and I’m too weak to fight them,” she breathed through great gulps of air.
“Where are you?” He pressed on the gas, forcing the car to 120 mph.
“I’m in an airplane museum somewhere on Tukwila road where they forced m
e off.”
“I know the location. Stay on the phone with me. Are you in a safe place?”
“I’m hiding in a Ford Trimotor, but they’re out there looking for me.”
“It’s best if you talk as little as possible. I don’t want them to hear you.”
It was a long time before he asked, “Are you hurt?”
“Not anymore.”
Lucien punched at the steering wheel.
“I think they’re gone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “How have you been?”
“Fine. And stay where you are and keep your voice down. They might come back.”
“I’ve missed you.”
He wanted to say it back, but couldn’t. Instead he said, “Tell me about the lady in the restaurant.”
“What lady?”
“The one you slapped.”
For a second, she was quiet, then said, “It wasn’t one of my greatest moments. I sensed that the man next to her was getting ready to call her a horrible name. Because I didn’t have time to react and since she was closer, I slapped her. The man ended up calling me the horrible name instead.”
“You were helping her,” Lucien said more to himself than Eve.
“Not really. I should have hit the man, but everything happened so fast.” She paused. “How often did you spy on me?”
“You didn’t know?”
“There were a couple of times I sensed you, and Charlie, too, but not all of the time. Did you follow me a lot?”
“I never left you.” The words were out his mouth before the logical part of his mind could stop them.
“I wish I would’ve known, maybe—”
She went silent.
“Eve?”
Her quiet breathing quickened.
Metal twisting against metal echoed into the phone. Eve screamed, and then the phone went dead.
14
Lucien was still several minutes out. He slammed on the brakes and parked the car on the curb. He burst free from the vehicle and used his vampire speed to cut through parking lots, back yards of a neighborhood, and across a canal until he came to a screeching halt in the parking lot of the museum.
Eve’s car was parked out front with the front door wide open, her purse lying on the ground and her keys on the driver’s side floor mat where she must’ve dropped them in haste. There were no other vehicles around.
In a flash, Lucien was inside the building, standing still, listening to the sounds of the massive room. All kinds of airplanes hung above him, most of which he recognized. He’d been to this museum many times as planes were just as interesting to him as rare cars, but he didn’t stop to admire any of them now. Across the room, he spotted the airplane Eve must’ve been hiding in; the side had been torn off.
Lucien tilted his head, focusing his hearing. Someone was being dragged across the floor in the back. He sped to the rear of the building and peeked around a corner. A vampire with spiked hair was holding a door open while another vampire dressed in all black dragged Eve by her hair through the opening. Her body was limp, and the smell of her blood was strong.
Anger, intense and powerful, drove him forward. Lucien attacked the spiked-haired vampire first. After punching him in the jaw, Lucien tossed him into the air and into the side of an Air Force One. He turned to face the All-black vampire who looked like he was trying to decide between fighting Lucien or running away. Lucien decided for him and rushed him, fangs extended to their full length.
Lucien swung his fist, but the vampire ducked and kicked back at him hard in the stomach, knocking Lucien to the ground. Before he could get up, All-black jumped on top of him and slashed at his face with long fingernails. Lucien managed to block many of the blows, but the first several claws cut deep into his cheek. He punched All-black in the throat, collapsing his larynx. The vampire fell off him, temporarily stunned from the lack of air to his lungs.
Lucien rolled away and jumped to his feet, quickly withdrawing a wooden dagger from within his jacket. All-black growled and rushed him, his face contorting into sharp lines and angles. Just as he reached him, Lucien dropped to the floor on his back and jabbed the dagger upwards, slicing clear through All-black’s kneecap. All-black screamed and fell forward, but before he hit the concrete floor, Lucien was on top of him and shoving the dagger into his heart. The vampire burst into a million pieces, coating the ground with his ash.
Lucien scrambled to his feet and glanced around for the other vampire. When he couldn’t hear or see him, he knelt at Eve’s side. Her blood stained the floor in a long crimson trail leading back inside the museum. He held his breath, fear clenching his chest.
Lucien quickly inspected her body. There had to be a wound here somewhere! There was simply too much blood.
When he couldn’t find anything on the front of her, he carefully rolled her body over. Directly under her arm, on the left side, a metal blade with no handle was embedded deep into her chest. It must have been what was preventing her from healing. Lucien tried to grip the blade, but her blood made it too slippery. He cried out in frustration.
Lucien stood and looked around the giant room, trying to see past the many planes. Using his vampire vision, he located a janitor’s closet on the opposite wall and sped to it. In one fluid motion he ripped the door from the hinges and took mere seconds to find a pair of pliers inside of a toolbox.
He returned to Eve, heart pounding and sweat dotting his forehead. Very carefully, he clamped down on the blade and pulled, sliding the deeply embedded blade from her flesh. Blood gushed from the wound, drenching her already blood-stained white shirt. Lucien pressed his hand to the wound to slow the bleeding.
“She can heal,” he said over and over again, his eyes closed tight.
After a few minutes, she sat up straight, eyes wide, and sucked in air as if taking her first breath. On the exhale, she yelled, “Lucien!”
Lucien cradled her face with his palms. “I’m here. I’m right here. No one’s going to hurt you.”
She frantically searched his face until finally there was recognition. Tears filled her eyes, and she threw her arms around him and buried her head to his shoulder. It startled him briefly, but then he wrapped his arms around her until she stopped shaking and her breathing returned to normal.
It took a little longer for his own breathing to regulate and fear to release its grip around his chest—a sensation he wasn’t used to feeling.
“We should go,” he said finally, gathering her in his arms.
“I can walk,” she mumbled.
“I would rather carry you, if that’s all right.”
She nodded weakly and slumped her head to his shoulder.
Lucien carried Eve to her car out front and, after reclining the chair, gently placed her in the passenger seat. Her arms hung limp in her lap, and her head dropped to the side. He closed her door, inhaled deeply, then rounded the vehicle to the driver’s side where he scooped up the keys and brought the engine to life. He would have to go back for his Hummer later.
Lucien drove into the night, choosing no particular path. He didn’t know where he was going nor did he care. He could only think of the woman sitting next to him and her delicate hand resting upon her thigh. In his imagination only, he reached for it, letting his hand move slowly over her long slender fingers. He thought it strange that her fragile hand had almost entirely disappeared beneath his. He made a promise to himself, right then and there, that he would protect her until the day he died.
“Why do they keep coming for me?” she asked, her voice full of despair.
The image of their interlocked hands disappeared. “This isn’t the first time?”
“They attacked Charlie and me in New York a couple of times.”
“Do you know who they are?”
“All we know is they came from Ireland.”
Lucien stiffened. His birthplace again.
“What is it?”
“It’s nothing. Has anyone tried to figure out who’s behind t
his?”
“We have a vampire undercover in Ireland now. The only thing he’s been able to discover is the location for a big meeting coming up. The gathering is for vampires only, and he plans on being there.”
“A vampire works at the Deific?”
“Three of them that I know of.”
Lucien tried to hide his surprise. He’d never met a good vampire. It was almost impossible to believe.
“What are their names?”
“Michael and Alana. I don’t know their last names, if vampires even have them. They are both in Ireland, Michael is the one undercover.”
“And the third?” Lucien finally turned the car around and headed back to Seattle, figuring he could protect her best there.
“His name is Henry. He is the founder of the Deific.”
This really surprised him. “But he’s a vampire.”
“What’s your point?”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“Does it have to? He still has his free agency, just like you. You can ask him about it yourself. He wants to meet you.”
“How does he know me?”
“He said he met you once. That you changed history.”
A stabbing pain struck at Lucien’s head, and he fell forward into the steering wheel. The car swerved sharply to the left.
“Lucien!” Eve forced the wheel in the opposite direction, trying to straighten the vehicle onto the road.
Lucien leaned back, shaking his head as if trying to rid himself of the sudden pain. He pushed on the brake while Eve guided the car to the shoulder.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure—pain,” he stuttered. After a few deep breaths and a lot of concentration, he managed to shove it to the back of his mind.
Eve stared, eyes drawn together, lips turned down.
He squirmed under her gaze. Forcing a smile, he said, “I’m fine, really. That was strange.”
“You’re not fine.”
He pulled the car back onto the road and changed the subject, all the while pretending he didn’t have a massive headache. Something she’d said had triggered images in his mind: flashes of decayed bodies, burning corpses, and screaming humans. Lots of them. Afraid this was one of the memories from a past he had long ago buried, he used his will power to shove it back into the recesses of his mind.
The Devil's Angel (Devil Series Book 2) Page 7
