Back to You (Don't Forget Me Book 2)

by Sia Wales

  Donn’s laughter bursts out again, but then his smile fades to black.

  “It’s not true that you haven’t been thinking about our last conversation.”

  “That conversation has no influence on any choice I make,” I retort.

  His face is taken over by that impenetrability I now recognize so well.

  “You are naïve and you’re fooling yourself if you believe you can’t love more than one person at the same time. You could never count on him as much as you can on me. If he left you once, he could do it again.”

  “That’s not true,” I hiss through clenched teeth. The abyss opens again, the pain comes flooding back. “Could you please behave yourself in future?” I ask, irritated.

  “No, I don’t think so. It’s up to you to decide, Stella. Either you take me as I am – bad habits and all – or you let me go.”

  I stare at him, frustrated. “You’re a cruel man.”

  “Just like you,” he murmurs. “But try not to get too upset. Because lately I’ve decided that lost causes are my new hobby, and I’m not willing to give it up.” He furrows his brow; his words sound like a warning.

  “You’re impossible…” I begin to protest, but he silences me by placing a finger on my lips.

  “But you do want me to stick close to you.” He seems displeased, but that soon gives way.

  “Yes,” I mumble through my teeth, frustrated. It’s impossible to get him to give up once his mind is set.

  “Then I’ll stay near you,” he promises, stroking my right cheek with his cold fingertips. Then he suddenly grabs my chin in his hands, too tightly, hurting me. I can’t tear my eyes from his intense gaze. “Don’t forget what your alternative is,” he adds.

  It takes a moment for me to realize that he’s referring to the song from my party.

  “Consider the alternative,” he repeats with conviction. He lets go of my face and pulls back to see me better. In his eyes, which have suddenly become bright, I see the bright, imminent reflection of what is about to happen. Panic rapidly overtakes me, I’m about to lose control. I want to shake off the awful feeling, and I freeze to try to calm my nerves.

  Donn is wordless, motionless, not even a flicker in his eyes. His irises burn turquoise, they can read my every thought.

  “What is it?” are the only words that come out of his mouth. Then he grabs my hips and twists me onto his chest as he slides into a sitting position.

  He sinks into the sofa and feels as cold and hard as an ice sculpture, and when I slip down onto the armrest by his side, he clutches my waist and holds me tight.

  Questions

  I look at him and hesitate to ask.

  “What is the Council?”

  Donn carefully looks at me for quite some time, before he begins to answer.

  “A very ancient and powerful family. The closest thing we have to a ruling class, more or less. When Aaron was a boy, he moved to America and went to live with them for a while.” Donn’s eyes have that faraway look of someone reliving a fragment of the past. “They occupy the space below the library, their home, and meet in the enormous hall of Council Capital Holding, their business and the seat of their operations, where they play the part of a normal board of directors. Each of them has created their own identity. And they live their lives under the radar, bar a couple of exceptions.” His voice is so low I can barely make out his words.

  “Yes, but what makes them more dangerous that Aaron, J., Vuk or you?” I ask insistently. “It’s hard to imagine anything scarier. And ‘the Council’? It hardly seems like a suitable name for a family…”.

  After a brief silence Donn speaks, choosing his words with care. “You’re right. There is a reason why we see them as our ruling class. Over the centuries, they have taken charge of the cohabitation between us and humans. They meet in the tower or at the headquarters of their business, where they earn a good living and accumulate wealth and assets for all eternity - Percival, the fifth Council member, is practically infallible in his stock market predictions… And they make sure that the rules are respected, which means maintaining their supremacy and punishing those who break them. They only come above ground, so to speak, if duty calls. Graham, however, never leaves the two buildings.” He senses my growing interest in the story.

  “Who is this Graham?”

  “The head of the clan… of the ruling class.”

  “And he never goes out?”

  “Never,” confirms Donn. He pulls the front of his jacket around me to protect me from the cold of his icy body. It’s not quite as comfortable as the sofa cushions, but I much prefer it.

  “There is a woman, Debra, who often stays with him to keep him company,” he continues. “Graham only goes out when absolutely necessary or for ceremonies. He loves them,” he adds, needlessly.

  “So how does he eat?”

  “He gets ‘food’ brought in from outside. Usually he enjoys the fare at Council Capital Holding. Never in the underground tower of the library. That is their secret coven. It’s great fun for the other members. If they’re not busy ruling or protecting the Council residents from intruders…”

  “From people like J…” I take the words out of his mouth.

  “Or they annihilate rebels, obviously,” he concludes. “In any case, they rule with an iron fist.”

  “And who are the rebels?”

  “The ones who break the rules. Over the centuries, there have been those who want to break with convention – out of boredom, madness or for ethical reasons. Anyway, in these cases, the Council intervenes before the rebel goes too far, compromising them or others.”

  “What did they say to J.?” I ask, trembling. Just saying his name has become incredibly difficult. “The other evening, you said he was a…pup. What does that mean?”

  “Shh, baby, calm down,” he whispers soothingly with an understanding smile. But his face is laced with anxiety. “In the first few months after transformation, new-born vampires are unpredictable, wild, basically uncontrollable,” he explains. “This is when they are at their most brutal, driven mad by thirst. Plus, in their first year of life, they are unbelievably strong.”

  “They’re stronger than you… adults?”

  “Yes, because they still have human blood in their veins,” he continues. “Their bodies consume it slowly. That is why they are so energetic. Their strength begins to wane after a year or so. They are usually young, too. Children, in a certain sense.”

  I purse my lips, pensively. “So they have their weaknesses, too?”

  “Of course. But no vampire is as strong as they were in the first few months of their new lives. They are flooded with human blood. Their own, which reacts with the change. It penetrates their tissues, it reinforces them. That is why their strength is often taken advantage of.”

  A chill runs down me, my throat burns.

  “Is there a compromise to be made?” I feel the crater opening up before me, sucking me in.

  “That depends. You can reason with some of them, by teaching them how to control themselves – that is what Aaron was doing with J… But when pups band together…” He shakes his head. “It’s a nightmare, practically impossible to manage.”

  “Why?”

  “They attack each other if they haven’t identified a prey or a precise enemy. But despite the fact that pups are dangerous, if you know what to do, you can defeat them.”

  “How?”

  Donn stares into space. “They are rarely ever master fighters; they are only muscular and ferocious. They have no idea about strategies, they only use brute force. But they are not to be underestimated. If you allow them to unleash their full potential they can annihilate an older vampire effortlessly. But they are prey to their instincts, so they become predictable. And their number is drastically reduced due to in-fighting.”

  I look at him, confused, for a long moment. “I still don’t get it, Donn,” I murmur, my lips barely moving. “So why do you call them pups?”

  “Hu
man blood makes them a little stronger, but it also makes their skin… soft as a puppy. It refers to the consistency of their skin, as soft as yours.” He looks at me warily, and brushes his cold fingertip along my lower lip. My mouth freezes.

  I look down. I wonder if this is really what Jason has become this past year. “So tell me… How did the Council react to J.’s behavior? Are they pissed at him?”

  Donn continues before I can get in another question. His voice is measured; he wants to calm me down.

  “When they said no to him, he decided to break the rules. And I had to put forward a counter-proposal. The conditions had changed: J. was going rogue. He was convinced that he could change the Council’s mind. But he was wrong.”

  “What was the counter-proposal?” I interrupt.

  “To arrange a meeting, by any means necessary. I couldn’t allow a meeting not to take place. and we needed J.’s present to it. At the very least, it would have distracted him from his hunt.”

  “And did he accept?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I can image that his reply was less than polite. But we’ll find out soon. The meeting place is the hearth door.”

  “What’s the hearth door?”

  “You find that out soon, too. It’s in the art room.”

  I’m speechless, dumbfounded. Then I sigh, “I still can’t believe J. reacted that way, that he ran such risks. And I didn’t imagine there were so many rules.”

  “Yes, baby. Where there are ruling classes, there are rules. But it’s not too complicated, and you can figure what the first one is yourself.”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Maybe it’s too obvious. There’s one basic restriction; we have to keep out existence secret. It makes sense to most of us.”

  It does seem obvious, thinking about it.

  “So J.…”

  “And this brings us back to J.,” he interrupts. “He tried to break the first rule. He was in negotiations, but after getting a negative reply, he decided to… go on the hunt. To feed in public. And that is all it takes to reveal our existence.”

  My mind wanders back to the night of last month’s full moon, to the image of J., confused and blurry, reflected in the rearview mirror of the pickup as he pierced my finger with his fang.

  That image is carved in my mind, no human being could ever forget such a thing. The Council couldn’t allow J. to disobey the rules, not if they are to remain incognito in this city, this state.

  And just as I cannot forget that bite, nor could any other potential witnesses, such as students and readers forget seeing a face, as pale, dark and ancient as this city itself. The realization hits me.

  “He wanted to hunt in the library!” I exclaim.

  “Yes, he came very close to doing just that. But he changed his mind when he saw you,” explains Donn.

  I nod, anguished. I can’t feel the same relief that Donn obviously feels.

  “Are we still in time?” I whisper.

  “Yes, we are,” he replies, Calmly.

  I look at him, doubtfully. I feel some relief, but sense that his optimism is a façade.

  “They don’t want to destroy him,” he reassures me. “If others were to join us and the Council killed J., it would be a declaration of war. And Graham would never want to upset Aaron like that. They were friends, as well as being members of the same family. No law has been broken. Aaron was right. Only you could stop him.” His eyes narrow as he speaks.

  “So tell me what the Council expects me to do when we meet.”

  “I already told you, baby. Graham will ask you to allow me to stay by your side until the ceremony, meaning that you have to let me see you whenever I want.”

  “That’s not fair,” I groan.

  I think I can hear his teeth grind. “Well, you have to accept the deal.”

  “Why?” I ask defiantly.

  “To let me protect you, to make sure nothing happens to you. You have to accept, for me and for J.”

  “And that’s the good news?” I stutter.

  “It’s a first step,” points out Donn, taking a few breaths to calm himself down. “I just need to vouch for you. It’s just a routine meeting, don’t worry,” he says, feigning lightheartedness. “Graham is a stickler for tradition, even with regards the most informal ceremonies.”

  My mind wanders back to Aaron’s words in the reading room, as he tried to explain, in vague, disconnected words, the reason for his presence. “He couldn’t live without you,” he had said, anxiously. Donn sees me fidgeting and he wraps an arm tightly around me, kissing my head reassuringly. I shake his kiss off to concentrate on my thought. Then I turn to him questioningly.

  “When I saw Aaron, he said to me ‘I doubt if they have ever found themselves in this sort of situation.’ What does that mean?”

  “It’s not often a vampire has clashed with the Council. Facing death, or whatever other punishment they have in mind,” he confesses.

  I let out a muffled gasp. ‘Unless he’s on a suicide mission.’ Those were Aaron’s words.

  With Donn still holding me close, we remain in silence for a few moments.

  “Well… Graham must already be expecting us. You’d better take me to the library tower, before I get into trouble for being late.”

  But Donn doesn’t move. I recognize that impassible look he gets on that unbelievably perfect face.

  “What is it?” I demand.

  “You’re already in trouble, Stella.”

  “Meaning?”

  “You have to be there for the proclamation, at the Garden in New York. The place has already been decided, but the date will be announced a few days before to avoid rebels getting wind of it.”

  “What Garden? The stadium?” I ask, dumbfounded.

  He nods. “Exactly. The proclamation will be made at the end of the banquet and the ceremony, but before the verdict.”

  “The verdict?” I cry, forgetting all self-control.

  “Exactly a year ago, the third member of the Council was expelled from the family. The verdict will declare what is to happen to him. But he will never be able to return to the clan.”

  “Why not?”

  “He broke the fundamental rule. So his punishment will be exemplary,” he says, emphasizing certain words with his hands.

  “Meaning?”

  He takes a deep breath. “Death, for instance.” His eyes close as he pronounces these words.

  “Death?” I shriek, my eyes piercing him. “Why? How did he break the rule?”

  Donn furrows his brow and tries to avoid the question. “That’s another matter.” For a second, I am hypnotized by his turquoise eyes, a sense of peace momentarily washing over me.

  “We have to get going,” he murmurs.

  I try to get up, despite my numbness. I only keep my balance by leaning on Donn’s arm, as he leads me out of the room. He’s hard, cold and perfect as a marble god.

  We have almost reached the corridor when he suddenly grinds his teeth, stopping in time to avoid having them crumble to pieces in his mouth, and he looks at me.

  “What is it?”

  “Would you do something for me if I asked,” he says, his voice tainted with apprehension.

  I look at his distant expression; it is as if faraway voices are distracting him. “It’s nothing. Would you stay in this room? Trust me. Wait until I come back.”

  “But why?”

  “I knew you’d ask. Vuk is waiting for you in the corridor. I just have to get rid of him, then I’ll be back.”

  “I won’t wait in this room,” I protest, “I’m coming with you.”

  “Alright,” he sighs, not in the least surprised.

  We turn the corner of the corridor on the second floor of the library. That’s when the green light in Vuk’s eyes catches mine. He looks calm and collected, but his body is rigid. His face hardens as he sees us approach, side by side.

  He towers over the other students and readers in the library, as he leans against the windo
w overlooking the courtyard. I realize that everyone is looking at him fearfully, as if he were dangerous. I, on the other hand, see the fear and worry in his eyes.

  “Looking for me?” I ask confidently.

  “Wrong,” interrupts Donn. “Vuk Wolf wants to see me. He’s here to talk to me.”

  I see the shadows of passers-by cross his tight short-sleeve black top, that he wears despite the fact that it’s cold.

  “Why isn’t she in the reading room?”

  The people passing by are avoiding walking near him, as if he has a bubble around him that no one dares invade.

  “We needed a… safe place. Somewhere crowded, otherwise it would have been impossible to talk today.”

  I notice the faces surrounding us: readers, students, a couple of my classmates, Jonathan and Mark. They stare at Vuk, six and a half feet tall, his body tense and leaning forward.

  “Why should Vuk want to talk to you?” I ask.

  He hesitates, uncomfortable as I am so close to such a restless werewolf. “He doesn’t want you to talk to Graham. He’s not comfortable about you going into the tower. He knows that in there, whatever happens, he cannot intervene.”

  Donn stops a few yards from him.

  “I guess you know why I’m here,” Vuk says, his fists tightening.

  “I know what you want to say. Consider me warned,” replies Donn warily.

  “Message received. But it’s not that easy…” retorts Vuk, his voice hoarse and rasping.

  “You could have called me,” says Donn, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “You knew I’d be in the library today.”

  “Sorry,” sneers Vuk. “My library card doesn’t allow for calls to bloodsuckers.”

  Donn’s hand forms a fist, which he hides behind him. He uses his body as a shield between me and Vuk. “This is not the time or the place, stray dog.”

  Vuk shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Oh, I think it is.” He is visibly shaken, his arms and legs quake.

  A group of students has gathered behind Jonathan, who is still standing by Mark.