Falling to Pieces

by L. T. Kelly

  “Thomas and I were married as mortals. My lover, Bartholomew, in the knowledge that we desired, both of us, to spend eternity together, gave me this gift. In turn, before I left Thomas I passed the gift to him. A parting token of affection.”

  My eyes widened. I had lived with someone for all this time and had never discovered any of this knowledge.

  “What, Thomas wanted to be a vampire?”

  She shrugged her shoulders stared at nothing in particular for a moment.

  “Who would not? We are all blessed. We have eternity to fix the mistakes we make, we can have fun, an endless existence.” She finished her statement breathily.

  I let out a strange gurgling noise in my throat and wrinkled my nose, causing Victoria to reach out at lightning speed and clasp her hand around the front of my neck.

  “Would you rather he had left you for dead? Left you in that disgusting backstreet in Dublin, my girl?” She released her grip, moving her hand away. “You are an ungrateful one,” she huffed. “You have allowed your maker to exist without taking him to your bed. You have gallivanted around London with, with an, uuugggh. You are nothing short of a disgrace. I wish Thomas had let me kill you. You are worthless little minion. A trouble maker.” She had nodded her head at the doorway with every sentence as though I was not worthy of being looked at by her.

  My frown deepened as I searched her face for a meaning. Take Thomas to bed? What the fuck was she on about? He had always been like a father to me, not a lover.

  “What have I gallivanted around London with?” I struggled to make my words heard because my throat was so dry. My nerves were tingling, letting me know the numbness was starting to subside. I slid my head over the pillow to crane my neck and peered down to inspect myself, realising I was still wearing the white dress I had been in when I’d been attacked. My wrists were bound together with thick steel chains and secured with a heavy padlock.

  “You need not concern yourself with that,” she said, wrinkling her nose in apparent distaste.

  “What day is it?” I asked, realising my thirst for the first time since I had woken.

  “We put you out two days ago to allow Thomas and I time to arrange your passage back to America. You cannot stay here now. You will cause us all too much trouble.” A dreamy gaze spread over her face as she said his name.

  “What about Thomas?”

  “He will stay here with Bartholomew and I.”

  I snorted. ‘Wouldn’t wanna’ be at that party.’ I raised half a smile.

  “Thomas won’t live without me.” I shook my head and shot her pitying glance.

  “Oh, but he must, he has been summoned by The Assembly. They insisted he return to England to take over from a member who wished to retire. Thomas is English, an English vampire. He must perform his duty to his government.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about, lady?”

  Victoria smacked her lips together when she heard my curse.

  She flinched when she saw Thomas appear in the doorway cradling a large wine glass containing thick dark liquid. He gasped when he caught sight of my face, quickly turning away from my scrutiny. Victoria reached up and snatched the glass from him causing droplets of blood to spatter onto the snowy white bed sheet.

  “Are you mad?” She furrowed her brow. ”We don’t want to strengthen her too much.”

  “No, no, of course not my darling. How silly of me.” He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Thomas has been forty-five when he was turned in 1670. Something had changed over the past few days, while I’d been in a drug-induced stupor, because something had made him look his full three hundred and forty three years. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was, perhaps his demeanour?

  He pressed the glass to my lips for a moment. I tried to gulp the blood down but he drew back. His expression remained flat and uncaring. I widened my eyes trying to speak to him without words, begging him to help me.

  “Thomas,” I said his name in a soft tone, “tell me, my precious father, what have I done to deserve such wretched treatment?” This approach had always worked for me in previous years.

  “My child, you have dabbled in a situation you cannot possibly fathom.” His tone mirrored mine, his lips were pressed into a hard line but his eyes shone. If he could produce tears, he surely would have.

  “Come now, my love,” Victoria said softly to Thomas, stroking his arm. I snorted in utter disbelief. Victoria seemed as gentle as a cactus. I was suffering her pretence.

  Thomas and Victoria turned and walked out of the door. He peered back at me, his eyes filled with sadness before he allowed his gaze to flicker to the glass that he’d left on the bedside table. His eyes bounced back to mine and he repeated the gesture. My lips curled into a smile. He closed the door softly.

  I listened to the pair descend the stairs. I looked down at my chained hands and prepared to heave my weakened body off the mattress. I cried out as I finally achieved an awkward sitting position. I dug my heels into the mattress and swivelled so that I faced the edge of the bed, hooking the backs of my ankles over the mattress as leverage to shuffle my ass towards them. Getting there, I placed the soles of my bare feet onto the thick carpet allowing them to support my weight as shuffled along the bed towards the glass. I bent my head down lapping at the liquid, reaching into the glass with my dry tongue. Drips escaped my hungry mouth, dribbling down my chin, spotting and expanding into blobs on the front of my white dress.

  I wondered how I’d failed to notice from the drop I’d taken earlier. The blood was not human. It was Thomas’ blood, the strong rusty taste danced around my mouth. My maker’s blood would make me stronger faster and possessed powerful healing properties. Essentially, it was human blood but it had run through his system before being extracted, therefore had entwined with his venom making the concoction quite potent.

  My fangs had popped out and began to chink a tune out on the glass. I stopped drinking, fearing that Victoria may hear me from downstairs, which is why I didn’t attempt to lift the glass in the first place. The chains that hung from my wrists would have made too much noise.

  I drew in three deep breaths, holding the last one while squeezing my eyes shut and screwing up my face in anticipation. I reached for my left hand with my right, the metal links bit into my flesh with the action. I managed to arrange one hand over the other, causing the radiuses in both wrists to crunch. I bit down hard on my lip to prevent the yelp of pain from escaping my mouth. Having reached the correct angle, I held still for a moment allowing my wrist bones to heal. Finally, I began to crush the bones of my upper hand, wincing and pressing my lips together to prevent a wail from slipping free of my throat.

  I inhaled sharply looking down at my floppy hand, the bones powdered. I slid the chain over the skin swiftly, before the bones had a chance to begin the healing.

  My breathing was laboured. I concentrated on levelling my gasps out as the bones re-formed in my hand, knitting together, mounting each other and sliding back to where they ought to be.

  I held my healed hand out in front of my face and wiggled my fingers around before I reached for the glass, gulping the liquid down my throat as if it were the first drink I’d ever had in my life.

  Carefully, I slowly unwrapped the chain from my right wrist, focussing on preventing the chain from clinking together. I flinched, throwing my head back and concentrating on the noises radiating up through the floorboards. It had to be Victoria. She was moaning softly with pleasure.

  It dawned on me what Thomas’ plan to help me to escape had been.

  I removed the remaining chain with a little less care and attention and got to my feet, tip-toeing towards the covered window. I made light work of opening the wooden blinds to reveal the glass window.

  The moans escaping Victoria’s mouth in Thomas’ bedroom had become desperate, almost a gargling noise.

  As I opened the window and stepped out onto the concrete ledge, I recognised the powerful primal long drawn out mo
an to be her climax. I stepped off the ledge landing in a crouch on the stone path in front of the house.

  Luckily, Knightsbridge streets are quieter at two o’clock in the morning than a lot of London.

  I ran, the force of which sent my hair straight back like a tangerine sheet following me on the wind. My arms appeared blurred with the speed.

  I slowed to a human pace as I reached the end of the street. My shoulders hunched as I stuck out me thumb, my glance darted from one passing vehicle to another on the main road.

  My bare feet slapped on the concrete slabs and the wind picked up the folds of my stained and wrinkled dress.

  I let out a sigh as the black cab drew up beside me, the orange light just above the windshield illuminating the fact that the car was a taxi. I clicked the backdoor open with my thumb and placed one foot on the rubber flooring, the raised circles pressed into my toes.

  “I need to go to Down Street Mews in Mayfair.”

  The driver’s eyes narrowed in the rear view mirror.

  “You got the fare, love?” he asked cocking his head, his eyes flicking up and down taking in my blood stained dress.

  “I’m good for it,” I concluded, snappily pulling on the yellow bar to close the door of the cab.

  The driver shrugged and the doors clicked, locking me inside.

  I lay my head back on the seat, finally relaxed. I ran through what Victoria had said completely at a loss for the things she’d said. Things I wouldn’t be able to get the answers to at this moment, but one answer was available to me.

  The cab drew to a halt outside the address I’d given.

  “Just wait. You’ll get the fare,” I assured him, keeping my voice level.

  I stepped out of the cab, my leg muscles tensed as I walked towards the front door. I rapped the door gently at first, increasing speed and the heaviness of my blows in rhythm.

  I listened to the sound of his footsteps, sensed his presence behind the midnight blue door before it swung open.

  My shoulders were raised to just below my ears, fists balled, teeth gritted.

  “What are you?” I breathed through my gritted teeth as my eyes narrowed to slits.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  His long dark lashes fluttered over his cheeks as he struggled against the sleep still ghosting his face. His hand trailed through his thick ebony hair before rubbing his eyes. Taking in my appearance elicited a gasp of alarm. He rushed towards me and wrapped his arms around me.

  “What the hell happened to you?” He cupped my face firmly between both hands. The warmth burst into my skin, igniting a fire I thought was doused from the trouble he’d caused me.

  I narrowed my eyes and attempted to push the thoughts of snuggling him to the back of my mind. I shrugged off his embrace and motioned to the waiting cab with a nod of my head. “Pay him,” I snapped before striding through the open door.

  He eyed me curiously as I leaned against the whitewashed wall in the entrance hall beside the door. He’d followed me into the house and walked past me into the room opposite the front door, presumably to grab some cash.

  I saw a chestnut brown leather California king bed pressed against the back wall of the room he’d gone into. The bedroom was shrouded in darkness and the white sheets lay crumpled on top of the mattress. I tried to hold my breath and fight against the swirling sensation in my stomach caused by his scent flowing out of the room and flooding my nostrils. It struck me as a little strange that the bedroom lay on the lower floor of the house.

  I heard the jingling of loose change before he walked back past me, his eyes burning into me as he stepped back out of the door. I’d kept my eyes on his, not wanting to be distracted by his state of undress. He wore nothing except for a pair of brilliant white boxer briefs. It was difficult not to notice the contrast of the white against his rich golden tanned skin. I tried to blink each footfall away but really all I’d done was taken photographic images for my memory bank, with the camera set to rapid fire for frame by frame capture.

  He stepped back in the house, closed the door behind him and pressed his back against it.

  “What happened to you, Teagan? Are you in some sort of trouble?” His whispered words led me to believe someone else might be here with him. I honed my hearing to listen for other heartbeats within the property but I couldn’t hear any.

  “What are you?” I asked my question again, my voice strangled trying to fight against the emotion that thickened the air between us.

  He swivelled so he stood in front of me and ran his thumb over my cheek. I choked on my breath as he snatched me up into his arms, effortlessly lifting me off my feet. One of his arms lay across my shoulder blades and the other in the crook behind my knees. He cradled my head to his warm chest, my thigh rubbed against his abdominal muscles with his motion up the stairs that were to the right of where we’d been standing.

  The moonlight shone through a skylight above our heads. Half way up I saw the glass panels surrounding the top of the stairs, giving me a view of the cavernous room. The skylight ran across the ceiling in an oblong strip above the stairway, displaying the night scenery in all of its glory.

  Marc turned right at the top and headed towards the u-shaped sofa, upholstered in a grassy green chenille fabric, and gently laid me on it in a half sitting position with my knees hitched up. He planted a tender kiss on my forehead and moved across the open-plan room to the kitchen. My eyes flicked to the large painting on the back wall, a vivid mix of reds, greens and blues apart from a large black beast standing over a lifeless figure.

  I turned my view to him and watched his muscles contracting on his lean body as he selected a glass from the glossy white cupboard and filled it with red wine. The kitchen took up the long wall on the other side of the glass panels near the stairs.

  The moonlight filled the room casting him with a pearly white light as he crossed the cavernous space back towards me. He hadn’t bothered to turn on a light. He bowed placing the glass into my hand before taking a seat by my filthy feet.

  I squirmed a little, remembering I hadn’t showered or changed in a couple of days, but he wrapped his fingers around my ankle to still me. I sipped from the glass before meeting his smouldering gaze.

  “What happened, Teagan?” he asked again, his voice quiet but demanding.

  “I’m tired, Marc. It’s been a long few days.” It wasn’t a lie, the sun must be due up in the next few hours. My face crumpled and I thought ‘What am I going to do?’ Thomas’ blood may have provided me with super strength, speed and agility but nothing could take away a vampire’s need to sleep before the sun comes up.

  He let out a heavy sigh before releasing the grip on my ankle and ran the tips of his fingers up the inside of my calf.

  “Marc—”

  He held a finger to his lips for a moment before saying, “Just relax.”

  His fingertips swept over my knee and began to zigzag, inner, front and outer thigh sending tingling sensations from the point of contact directly to my sex. I shifted around on the couch.

  “Don’t you like it? Do you want me to stop? I’m sorry.”

  “Marc, it’s just I’m—” I paused and he jutted his cleft chin towards me urging me to continue. “I’m filthy.” His lips parted and he raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I’m dirty.” I laughed as I waved a hand up and down my dress, catching the drift of his thoughts from the look on his face.

  “Oh.” He blinked, turning his head away. His eyes returned to mine. They glistened and gleamed in the moonlight. Slowly, he turned his body to face me and rose up off the seat. He placed a knee on the couch and nudged my knees apart with his hip as he leaned towards me. He took the glass from my hand and set it down on the polished wooden floor. I sat up straight closing the space between us, my hands aching to touch him, to feel his warm skin beneath them. I threw my arms around his neck at super speed making him flinch. I couldn’t control my rapidity while being so emotionally charged as well as being horny as hell.

 
“Teagan, I—”

  I clamped my mouth on his fiercely. I knew he was ‘something’ and I thought he’d realised the same about me. I didn’t want to talk about it right now. It could wait.

  My tongue darted into his mouth, my coldness against his warmth. He used his weight to guide me back down onto the sofa, his body positioned in between my parted legs. Our lips locked as our tongues danced together in an intoxicating rhythm. I raised both of my legs and interlocked them behind his back, pulling him closer to me, squeezing him like a snake attacking her pray, jolting at the bumps of his rigid abs against my pulsating clit beneath my panties.

  He lifted me up so I sat upright facing him on his lap, my legs still wrapped around his torso. I smiled against his lips when I felt his erection brush against me. With him being so much taller than me, I hadn’t realised his evident excitement when we were lying down. I grinded against him, causing a moan to escape his throat and vibrate on my lips.

  He grasped a handful of my hair and pulled my head back exposing my throat to him and planted soft kisses all over my neck. Releasing my rusty locks he stood up and carried me towards the stairway.

  I let my head drop forward, closed my eyes and rested my nose against his, with our foreheads together.

  “You need a shower, you dirty girl.” He slapped my backside playfully.

  I giggled like a schoolgirl as we descended the stairs of the upside down house.

  He brought me into his bedroom and headed straight for the bathroom, hitting the light switch on with his elbow, our eyes were glued together as he stopped. I untangled my legs from around his waist and placed my feet on the creamy tiled floor next to the huge shower cubicle. On the other side of the bathroom was a large oval-shaped sunken bath. The sink stood next to the bath beneath a huge mirror, looking like a bowl on top of a wooden pedestal where red towels had been stacked beneath the sink on shelves.