Something Secret This Way Comes

Page 29

Desmond let out a huge breath, and my mouth tingled with the limey taste. “Marcus wants to help Peyton turn the human race into slaves.”
“Starting with one of the biggest cities in the world. Can you imagine if the rogues of other cities saw this? Even if they didn’t succeed, think of how many innocent lives would be lost in the attempt. Peyton has already killed or turned some of the prostitutes. He’s starting with the people who don’t matter, but by doing that he can infect so many more before people begin to notice.”
“The girl who attacked you?”
“She was somebody someone will miss. She was someone who mattered. He killed her because I saved her life. He wanted me to know I wasn’t capable of protecting anyone. I killed one of his children that night and in return he took a life I’d saved.”
“He has something against you personally?”
I nodded with renewed weariness. We were out of the car and making the half-block trip back to my front door. He draped his arm around me, and I leaned my face into his chest, breathing him in. He had given me his jacket after I’d left Calliope’s, which protected me from prying eyes, and I was grateful for the illusion of modesty.
Desmond would need a little more of my personal history if he was going to understand why Peyton hated me so much.
“When I came to New York I was sixteen, and saying the city was overwhelming is an understatement. I had it in my mind that because a vampire attack had caused my mother to abandon me…” shit was that too close to the truth? I continued in a hurry, “…I would kill every vampire I met.”
“You were sixteen?”
“I was an idiot.”
He smirked at this.
“I did pretty well for myself at first, actually. But that was because the vampires I was finding were new, stupid and reckless. I’d been here a few months and was feeling pretty big in my britches, and then I found Alexandre Peyton. Or I guess he found me. I didn’t have the same reputation with vampires that I have now, but he still knew about me. He must have heard about some little girl trying to kill vampires and decided to have fun with me. He found me while I was hunting, and before I knew what was happening he was on me, feeding from me. Killing me.”
Desmond’s grip on my shoulder tightened. Having arrived back at the apartment, neither of us had sensed any dangers lurking within and had locked the door behind us. We faced each other in my living room.
“What happened next?” he asked, standing in front of me. He slipped his hands under the lapels of the jacket, his bare palms rubbing over my shoulders, pushing the garment off me and onto the floor.
I let out a shaky, uneven breath as his hands continued their path down my arms.
“He was cocky. He was so sure he had me beaten he stopped feeding. He started to tease me, make me feel foolish for believing a little girl could kill the monsters under her bed. That’s what he called me, little girl. It’s what he still calls me, though he knows better now. He went in to take the last of my blood, and that’s when I hit him. Did you know vampires can heal almost anything, but they can’t regrow teeth?”
He arched his eyebrow.
“It’s part of the reason vampires have retractable fangs like cats’ claws. Because it’s their weapon and their only way to feed, it must be protected whenever it’s not being used. Fangs are only exposed when a vampire is taken by the bloodlust or when they are provoked in anger. Or when they’re aroused.”
Desmond was less than a breath away, the tips of his finger trailing up and down my arms. I put my palms against the softness of his sweater and dragged my fingernails down to the waistband of his jeans.
“What happened next?” He lowered his mouth to the exact spot on my neck Peyton had once tried to rip out, and licked the place where only the memory of a scar existed. I shuddered, and my body pressed anxiously against his as our wandering hands moved lower. Keeping my own fangs from extending was only possible because I’d just fed.
“He was ready to feed…” as I said it Desmond nipped my neck and I let out a little yelp, “…so he was vulnerable. I kept hitting him until I knocked out one of his teeth, and that’s when he let me go.”
Desmond’s arms were around me and his mouth was traveling from my neck to my chin. I was running out of time to tell my story. “I…” My breath quivered as my fingers found his belt and struggled to undo it with the lack of space between us. “I was lucky. Peyton was a rogue, and Keaty had been looking for him too. Keaty found me that night and saved me. He trained me and made me who I am now. But Peyton never forgot, and he’s been meaning to repay me for the last six years.”
“He won’t get the chance.” Desmond spoke the words right into my own mouth. “I won’t let him.”
Finding I was lacking any further words, he pressed his lips to mine in the same moment I freed the belt from his jeans and worked my way through to the cage of his zipper. His kiss was hot, devouring, and we didn’t get to the loveseat before he pushed me down onto the carpeted floor. Within seconds he relieved me of my own ridiculously small pants and was in me with such force it arched my back off the ground.
I knew what I had to do soon, and because of that I was willing to let Desmond take me over completely. This might be the last time we’d be together, and it was the only way I knew how to say goodbye to him.
I closed my eyes and fell into the fierce rhythm of his movements so he would not see me cry, thankful the heavy makeup on my eyes would hide the pink tinge of my tears.
I never wanted this moment to end. Once it did, my whole world would come crashing down.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I sat on the lawn in Central Park, wearing a now-familiar wedding gown, its front still stained with a palm print of my blood. This time there was no one with me, no wolves chasing me and nothing but the silence of the night.
I shifted the layers of the gown so I could sit without being uncomfortable, then lay back to look at the stars. As I watched, the sky grew brighter and bluer until the stars faded out and I was left blinking into the screaming light of day.
My arms went up to protect my face, and I huddled in a ball of wedding gown, waiting to burst into flame at any moment. It took me cowering for awhile before I realized I felt only the warmth of day on my skin rather than the fire of incineration.
“Do you miss it?” said a small, female voice.
I saw Brigit, with her bronze skin and glowing blonde hair, beaming at me, looking healthy and alive.
“How can I miss what I never had?” I asked, unable to keep the sadness out of my words.
“I miss it.” She ran a hand through her hair, and large blonde clumps, scalp still attached, came off in her fist. She held them out to me with a defeated expression, and the golden strands disintegrated between us. I reached out to her, but before I could, her eyes boiled and melted and her skin began to slip off her like thick wax. Everything that left her body turned to ashes, and I was staring at a pile of rubble where the pretty girl had once been.
“It’s because of you, you know?” Lucas was standing behind me, but he wasn’t dressed in a tux. He was no longer coming to our wedding. He looked down at me, then offered me a hand to help me to my feet.
“I didn’t change her.”
“No. But everything will change because of you.”
I took a step closer but stumbled on something. Casting my eyes downward, I recoiled in horror. Desmond lay at my feet, his body red with blood. Looking back to Lucas, I saw he too was covered in blood so thick it ran down his hands. My dress was soaking in it, turning everything from white to red. The whole gown was crimson and bloody.
“It’s all because of you,” Lucas said.
“No. Not this.”
“Aren’t you afraid of the daylight?”
“I’m not afraid.” But my voice trembled.
“Then go.” He put a hand on my shoulder. Desmond’s body was gone and Brigit’s ashes were no longer there. Instead of the gown, I once again wore my own clothes and a gun was in my hand.
We stood in front of an old movie theater, its façade worn down and grimy from lack of upkeep. The shadow of the marquee blotted out the sun. I could see everything better now. Lucas gave me a sad smile.
“You must go or it will all fall apart.”
I was about to ask him what, when he too was gone, and the doors of the theater opened like a yawning mouth waiting to swallow me whole.
My eyes snapped open, and I took a moment to get my breath back.
I was lying on the carpet in my living room, which was an incredibly stupid and dangerous place for me to have fallen asleep. Next to me, snoring softly with his arm cast across my bare stomach, Desmond slept peacefully. On the other side of the room, rays of light were sneaking through the window, illuminating the chair below. It wouldn’t be long before the sun reached me.
I recalled the dream and Lucas asking if I was afraid of the daylight. There was no way to lie to myself now. Not only was I afraid of the sun, I was shaken to my core at the thought of what I had to do next.
Watching Desmond sleep, I couldn’t keep from seeing how good his olive skin looked in the natural light of day. What was he doing in my dark life?
Blinking at the bright window, I knew I didn’t have much time. The sun didn’t have the muted hue of early morning. Looking at the clock over the fireplace, I confirmed it was almost one in the afternoon. I was glad I’d fed at Calliope’s, because it meant I’d been able to rouse myself when I normally would have kept sleeping. Like a kid on Christmas morning, my anticipation was the only other thing that had gotten me up. The real miracle was that Desmond hadn’t awoken. I gently removed his arm from my belly, wishing I could stay with him longer, but knowing it was out of my control. I had to leave now before the urge to go back to sleep got too strong.
I got to my feet and padded naked through the apartment to my bedroom. Once there I was calmed by the comfortable darkness and set to work preparing myself. Donning my jeans from the day before and a long-sleeved black turtleneck, I dug through the closet looking for anything suitable to wear outdoors. Bless Grandmere for still being concerned about my health, even knowing what I was, because every Christmas she sent me sensible grandmotherly things like scarves, hats and gloves.