Trusting Eternity (The Sullivan Vampires, Volume 2

by Bridget Essex

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  “Rose? Rose!”

  I woke up to someone’s hands on my bare shoulders, cold hands so chill that I shuddered beneath their gentle touch, opening my eyes and lifting my arm to block out the glare.

  There was a light over the bed, with white-hot florescent bulbs, and this light was turned on now, shining down on my face so brightly that, for a long moment, I couldn’t see clearly. I blinked back the shadows and purple spheres from staring directly into the light, and I looked up at the one shadow that remained.

  Kane. Kane sat next to me, gripping my shoulders with tender fingers, staring down at me with a furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, her lips pursed.

  “Are you all right?” she whispered to me, letting me go and smoothing an errant strand of hair behind my right ear. She cupped my face gently. “You were screaming.” Her eyes, now bright blue, as blue as the sea before an impressive storm, flashed dangerously as she clenched her jaw. “I was in the other room and came back instantly because…because I thought someone was hurting you.”

  The events of last night slowly started to filter back into my mind. The happy ones—like the fact that Kane and I were finally together, had finally slept together, and it had been magnificent—and the terrible events, too.

  Like the fact that two vampires had tried their absolute hardest to kill me.

  “No…no one was trying to hurt me,” I told her tiredly, sitting up on my elbows and glancing down at my right hand, the one that had reached out to touch the burning-hot doorknob. But of course there was no red welt on my skin, no burn, even though the memory of that white-hot sensation searing into my flesh remained with me, and my hand still pulsed as if it were in pain.

  But it had no reason to be in pain.

  It was only a dream.

  “What happened?” asked Kane, her brow still furrowed.

  I blinked and shook my head, smiling softly up at her as I reached across the space between us and took her hand in mine. “I was dreaming. Nothing to worry about. I’ve been having a lot of strange dreams since coming to the Sullivan Hotel.”

  Kane’s brow furrowed even further. “You have? That’s odd, because I have, too, and—”

  Kane’s room was very large, but even though we were far removed from the door, it was still easy to hear the knock that came upon it; it was so loud and insistent—four hard raps, a beat of time, and then four hard raps again. The knock indicated urgency, as if someone was in trouble. Kane moved off of the bed immediately and walked across the room to open the door.

  And that’s when all thoughts of last night and of the dream evaporated.

  Because when Kane opened the door, standing there in the hallway, her eyes wide, her nostrils flared as she stared into the room at me, lying here on Kane’s bed…was Tommie.

  I was hoping, selfishly, cowardly, that we were going to have a little more time, just the two of us. Just Kane and me...before the rest of the world came rushing back in and the hard consequences of what we’d done came crashing down on top of us. Just a few more moments, even, to get the dust of the dream out of my eyes, to stand up, to kiss Kane good morning. I’d never been able to do that, and I’d wanted to, just once. Once, before the pain I’d caused came into the light.

  But karma, as the saying goes, is a bitch. And when Kane opened the door to Tommie, I knew it was time to face the music. It was time to confront exactly what I’d done to her.

  No matter how agonizing it was.

  I sat up in bed and pulled the sheet to my chest as I saw Kane duck out into the corridor, pulling the door behind her but not really closing it, leaving it slightly ajar as she gripped the doorknob.

  And I saw Tommie’s face. Just for an instant. Just before the door obscured it.

  And it was the face of exquisite pain.

  “I was…I was looking for Rose,” came Tommie’s voice, low and wooden from the hallway. “I couldn’t find her anywhere. She was…she was supposed to wait in my rooms for me.”

  I curled forward onto the bed in pain, crumpling as I heard Tommie’s voice behind that half-shut door, the half-shut door that Kane held to her back, still gripping the doorknob in her hand as she shook her head. I could see the side of Kane’s body, could see the cascade of her white-blonde hair over her shoulders and back, could see her chin lift, could see the sad contours of her face.

  “She was supposed to wait in my rooms so she would stay safe,” said Tommie quietly then. And whether she was talking about staying safe from more rogue vampires or from Kane herself, it was impossible to tell. There was so much hurt in her voice, and I put my face in my hands, feeling that pain wash over me like water, absorbing into my skin. I had done this. I had caused this pain—knowingly, willingly.

  “Thomasina,” said Kane tiredly, and her voice was heavy as she spoke her name. “We need to talk.”

  There was a long moment of silence, and then: “Let me see her.” It was not a question, and the words were forceful, sharp.

  Kane shifted her weight. “I don’t know if that’s—”

  My heart in my throat, I clenched the duvet in my hands, and I breathed out. “Kane?” I called. My voice was shaking.

  Both women in the corridor fell silent.

  “Kane—let Tommie in, please?” I said, and I bit my lip, I closed my eyes, and I tried to dredge up a tiny scrap of courage. I felt so low in that moment. Lower than I’d ever felt in my entire life. Tommie had loved me, loved me fiercely, and I’d done this to her before talking to her about it. Semantics were just that: semantics. Yes, Tommie and I weren’t officially dating, but she’d certainly felt that there was something between us, and I had betrayed that trust brutally.

  Kane pushed the door open, and she leaned against it with her shoulder, holding it open for Tommie. She didn’t look at Tommie, but, rather, she looked into the room at me, working her jaw, her bright blue eyes glittering with something unnameable.

  Tommie stood in that open doorway for a long moment, not entering the room, though Kane held the door. She stood there, and she simply breathed, and there was such pain on her face that I was instantly gutted by it. As if I hadn’t been gutted already.

  “Tommie…” I said, shaking my head, trying to figure out what I could possibly say to make this even a tiny bit better. But I could think of nothing to say, and, in turn, Tommie said nothing, too. She stood still for a moment longer, and then she entered the room. She moved carefully, putting one foot in front of the other as if she were walking on broken glass. She came halfway across the space between us, and then she stopped, balling her hands into fists. There was blood on her white dress shirt. Gwen’s blood, I realized. Tommie had taken Gwen into town to get patched up after her accident…effectively letting Kane and I do what we did.

  If I’d felt low before, I didn’t know how low a person could feel. Tommie had taken Gwen to get stitches, probably; her stomach had been bleeding from a shard of glass from the window, and she’d had a concussion. Tommie had taken care of Gwen for me. And then Kane and I had…well…

  “You slept with Kane,” said Tommie, and there wasn't any inquiry in her tone. She knew, didn't have to ask. Still, she watched me carefully, her jaw clenched, waiting. I took a deep breath, held the comforter over my chest, and I nodded, swallowing.

  “Yes,” I told her softly. “I did.”

  Tommie’s green eyes flashed brightly with a pain so piercing that I felt it in every part of my body. I felt that pain, and I felt even greater pain for causing that within her.

  Tommie lifted her chin, and she breathed out in the stillness. Kane watched the both of us, her jaw clenched tight as Tommie took another step toward me. For another long, painful moment, she said absolutely nothing, only watched me, watched my face, watched my reactions. Tears were already streaking down my cheeks, and now a single tear coursed down Tommie’s face, too, a tear that had stood in her clear, green eyes for a long moment before falling. And then Tommie whispered a single word, a single word that broke
at the very end of saying it.

  “Why?”

  There was so much to that simple question, so much that I couldn’t answer right at that moment, nor would I have wanted to. It would have hurt her too much to tell her the deep truth, that Kane and I were meant to be together, that we were deeply in love, that I’d been falling in love with Kane from the first moment that I’d met her. That I cared, so deeply, for Tommie, but that I loved Kane with all my heart, and there was a difference in those two things, and it meant that Tommie and I could never, would never, be together.

  And that was too cruel; I could never tell her that. So I took a deep breath, feeling the hot tears streak down my face as I searched for softer words…and did the best I could. “I love her,” I said to Tommie then, my voice, too, breaking on my words. “I’m so sorry. I love Kane. And I care about you, Tommie. But I love her.”

  It was as simply put as I could make it, and it was said with as much affection as I had within me, but they were still sharp and hurtful, those words, and I could see the hurt clearly reflected in Tommie’s face when she took a single step back, as if I’d punched her with full force in the stomach. There was a haunted look in her eyes, then, and she worked her jaw.

  She looked like she was going to say something for the longest moment, as I sat there miserably, but she did not. Instead, Tommie turned away from me, turned and made her way out of the bedroom as quickly as she could possibly go. She brushed past Kane with her shoulder, but it wasn’t rough, and I don’t think she even meant to do it. Tears were clouding her eyes. Tommie said nothing to her, and then she was out in the hallway, walking away from Kane’s bedroom.

  I couldn’t let her leave—not like this. I needed to talk to her, to tell her how sorry I was. To try to make this in any way, shape or form…better. I didn’t know if I could, but I had to try. I had done a wonderful thing, sleeping with Kane and professing my love for her…but it had consequences, consequences I was now experiencing.

  I’d done a terrible thing. And now I had to try my absolute best to fix it. And if it could not be fixed, which I was pretty much assuming it couldn’t be…Tommie needed to know how deeply sorry I was for hurting her.

  I was completely naked, and I grabbed the closest thing to cover myself with; I pulled the gray, satin sheet under Kane’s black duvet out, and I struggled to my feet while simultaneously wrapping myself in the sheet—the kind of thing a drunken frat guy does at a kegger, pretending to wear sheets as togas. But none of it mattered as I raced out of the bedroom, past a silent, pained-looking Kane, into the hallway.

  “Tommie, wait!” I called after her. Tommie was already at the corner of the hallway, about to round the bend, but to my surprise—and, perhaps, her own—she stopped. Her back to me was stiff, and her hands were balled into fists at her sides, but she turned a little, her eyes narrowed as she took in my ludicrous costume. I held it tightly about myself, and I padded quietly over the red-and-black tile to her.

  “I’m so sorry,” I told her, and then I said it a few more times for safe measure. “I am so sorry,” I whispered, and I gazed at this beautiful woman, this woman who I’d hurt so much, and I watched her expression smooth out, watched her fingers uncurl from their fists. She took one step backward, around the bend, and when I glanced back over my shoulder, I realized that Kane couldn’t see around the corner of the hallway. Not that she was watching. She’d gone back into her bedroom to give us some privacy.

  Because Kane trusted me wholly. Which was, I realized, pretty damn trusting of her, considering I woke in Tommie’s bed approximately twenty-four hours earlier.

  God, I shouldn’t have done that.

  I followed Tommie around the corner and watched as she leaned against the wall, tugging a cigarette out of her blood-spattered dress shirt pocket. She lit it up with a silver lighter, pocketing the lighter back into her rear pants pocket with her pale fingers, and she watched me with narrowed, flashing eyes as she took a very long pull on that cigarette.

  “You love her,” said Tommie, flicking the ash off the end of the cigarette. She blew smoke into the air so that it haloed around her head like light. I nodded, sighing.

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you, should have—”

  But Tommie held up her hand, shaking her head slowly.

  “I knew you loved her,” said Tommie simply. “I was just hoping that, with enough time, you could learn to love me, too. And get over her.” Her jaw tightened as she jerked her chin back in the direction of Kane’s bedroom. “But…something obviously happened,” she said, and it came out a little bitterly. “Kane must have told you how she felt.”

  “Tommie, I’m sorry,” I repeated, because I didn’t quite know what else to say. I swallowed, tried to find the words, anyway. “That was…that was terrible of me. I should have talked to you before Kane and I…” I trailed off, because Tommie’s flashing eyes told me that she knew exactly what Kane and I had done.

  Standing there in the hallway, Tommie’s green eyes glittering, my body wrapped in a sheet and absolutely nothing else, I felt a flush come across my cheeks…but Tommie shook her head again, flicking her cigarette with a sharp motion.

  “No…it’s my fault. I knew you loved Kane,” she repeated. “And Kane gets the girl. Again. Because Kane always gets the girl.” I paled as I remembered that, once, Tommie had loved Melody with all of her heart. And Melody had chosen Kane over Tommie.

  This was history repeating itself. And I was to blame for that.

  Tommie shook her head, her eyes pained, dark, and she pushed off from the wall, ready to stalk back down the hallway, but before she could move past me, I reached out, and I took her wrist.

  “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” I told her, my voice cracking. “But I do care about you. As much as it doesn’t look like I do right now. And I’m sorry; you don’t know how sorry I am. Not that ‘sorry’ makes anything better…but I care about you, Tommie,” I told her, tears leaking out of my eyes.

  Tommie paused at that, and when she looked down at me, her own eyes were softer. Gentler. She put the cigarette between her lips, and she raked her other hand back through her hair. She wasn’t wearing her trademark hat, and I wondered what had happened to it last night in the fight.

  “I care about you, too, Rose,” she said, her voice gruff as she glanced away from me, her jaw tightening. “I care about you too much.”

  I didn’t know what else to say. Tommie stayed where she was, and I stayed, too, my hand gripping her wrist, but softer now.

  “It’s not your fault,” is what Tommie told me then, surprising me. She glanced at me, and her face softened.

  “It is. I should have told you first, before anything happened,” I said. “Maybe I never should have gone on those dates with you in the first place. I just… I did care about you…and…”

  Tommie held up her hand, then sighed when I fell silent. “Those were good memories. I don’t regret them.”

  “I don’t, either,” I told her truthfully. “I just wish I hadn’t hurt you.”

  “Rose,” said Tommie, and she turned, and gently—so gently—she cupped my face in her hands. There was such pain in her own expression, and I stood there tensely, feeling the pain seemingly radiate through her fingertips and into me.

  We stood like that, and I felt that pain, and there was nothing I could do to ease it.

  After a long moment, Tommie shook her head. And then she said something that twisted a knife deep into me.

  “I love you,” she said, her voice so soft that I wondered if I’d even heard her speak for half a heartbeat, but I knew exactly what she said when she looked at me…because there was so much pain in her gaze...but there was also love, the exact same type of love that Kane had shown me last night, a love so pure and true and whole that it was more powerful than anything else in the world.

  “Rose,” Tommie whispered, “I love you, and you don’t love me. And that’s…that’s very sad,” she said, struggling with the word while
she clenched her jaw, a single tear streaking down her cheek to her chin, then falling away to the red-and-black tile beneath our feet. “And there’s nothing that can be done about it,” she said. She took a single step back from me, and her hands left my face, falling to her sides.

  Tommie watched me for a very long moment. I clenched the sheet in my hands over my heart, wrapped tightly around my body, and I watched her, feeling my heart ache inside of me with a pain so profound that I wanted to weep.

  Finally, Tommie straightened, shaking her head again. She lifted her chin, and she gave me the softest, saddest smile.

  “Goodbye, Rose,” she told me. And then she turned on her heel, and she walked away, sliding her hands into her pockets and curling her shoulders forward as she glided across the floor, walking away from me so quickly that there was soon another bend in the corridor, and she was lost from my sight.

  A great sob moved through me then, and I curled forward, putting my face in one hand and trying to hold tightly to the sheet with the other. In a heartbeat, Kane was beside me—perhaps she’d been listening, after all—and she gathered me in her arms, holding me tightly to her. She turned, and, gently, she steered me back to her room. I put one foot in front of the other as I wept, and we were finally at the edge of her bed, and I sat down there stiffly, letting the sheet fall away from me as I folded forward, as I crumpled, putting my face in my hands.

  “I hurt her so much,” I told her, and I shook my head slowly. “I didn’t want to hurt her, and I hurt her so much.”

  Kane took a deep breath and sat beside me, wrapping a cool arm around me and drawing me to her so that she could hold me gently. We sat like that for a while, until my sobs lessened, until my breathing became easy again.

  Then she spoke: “It is just as much my fault as it is yours,” she told me, her words soft, coaxing. “Do not be so hard on yourself. You did not make this decision on your own.” After a long moment, she took a deep breath and gathered up the corner of the sheet in her hands, gently dabbing it on my cheeks and beneath my eyes, wiping away my tears. “We all hurt others in our lives. None of us is perfect. Life isn’t perfect.”