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Wicked Kiss

Page 52

   


“Leave me alone.” He pulled away from my grip and started up the stairs. I followed after him. My head still swam from the memory meld, but there was no possible way I was going to let Stephen out of my sight now that I’d found him again.
Bishop was right about him being here. Now all I had to do was convince him to help me. I’d been so close at the mall yesterday, I knew it. I’d seen it in his eyes. Witnessing his fear about stasis had changed something inside me when it came to Stephen. For so long now I’d blamed him for my misfortune, for my hunger and troubles. I still did. But he wasn’t totally the villain I’d made him out to be—unrepentant and evil to the core. He was just somebody else in over his head, dealing with the ramifications of his own bad choices.
There had to be a way to help him, too. Being a gray had changed him, but not completely. I’d seen the way he looked at Jordan yesterday. How I knew he wanted to protect her, even if he chose to do so by being a standoffish, passive-aggressive jerk.
There was still good in Stephen. And I was going to give him another chance to prove it to me.
“Where are you going?” I called after him.
“I need to leave.”
“You don’t look so good.”
Stephen glanced over his shoulder as we ascended the stairs. It took all of my energy to keep up with his long strides. “I don’t feel so good.”
He was so pale, even the color of his eyes seemed faded. And he was shivering. The cold was getting worse for him, even worse than it was for me.
My throat closed. “You’re going into stasis.”
He didn’t answer, instead quickening his steps. When we reached the lobby, I didn’t have time to get my coat out of the coat check. If I did, I knew I’d lose him. Instead, I emerged with him through the doors into the night, only the thin cotton of my shirt to protect me from the chill. It would have to be enough.
He walked so fast I had to literally run to keep up with him. “You can’t just keep ignoring me. Please, Stephen. You need to help me. You know you do.”
Finally, he stopped walking and turned to face me when we’d gone about a block from the club. His expression was bleak. “It’s too late, Samantha.”
I shivered, and crossed my arms tightly over my chest to try to stay warm. “I know you’re scared. If you help me, I can help you, too.”
“You think so? Afraid not. Nobody can help me. And nobody can help you, either.”
His words were like a slap—which was how he’d meant them. He was lashing out at me because he felt so desperate and alone. But I wouldn’t let myself be put off that easily. Not tonight. “You can’t lose hope.”
He laughed, a dry and humorless sound that sent a fresh chill down my spine. “Natalie promised me a lot of things when she was still alive. She said it was going to be great. That nothing would get in our way. That we’d be together forever. I believed her. Mostly.”
Empathy welled inside me. He’d been played by my aunt like a fool. She’d used him any way she could. “Don’t tell me you were in love with her.”
“Hardly.” He glared at me. “Don’t you know by now, Samantha? I’m an opportunist, always have been. Natalie represented an opportunity for me to be more than what I was. I took it. In fact, I jumped at it, sacrificing everything in the process. I deserve this as my punishment.”
“You’re not that bad.”
That earned another laugh that echoed coldly off the dark buildings surrounding us. “No, I’m worse.”
“You broke up with Jordan to save her. That proves to me that there’s still something inside you that gives a damn.”
His laugh broke off and he sent a look at me so sharp that it almost cut. “You don’t know anything about what happened with Jordan.”
He started walking again, but I scooted around to block his path. The two of us were momentarily lit up by a set of headlights from a car turning the corner. It only showed me how pale Stephen was. And that even though he shivered from the cold, there was also a sheen of perspiration on his forehead. He looked sick.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “Maybe I’m just guessing. But I saw something in your eyes at the mall. You don’t like hurting her. I’m not saying I get it. I mean, to me Jordan’s a total bitch. But maybe down deep—maybe with you—she was different. Maybe she saw the real you, and vice versa. Maybe it was true love.”
“Shut up.” His voice shook. “It’s over—everything is. I’m going into stasis and right now I need to be anywhere but here.”
When he moved again, I literally shoved him back a step. “Stop. Just stop. My friends...they can help you. I’m serious.”
He didn’t look at me, he looked at the ground by my feet. “Yeah, right. They can help by putting a knife through my heart.” He rubbed his forehead as if his head ached. “I still have just enough self-preservation to want to crawl off somewhere private if I’m going to die tonight. I don’t want to be killed. If that makes me a coward, then fine. I’m a damn coward.”
With that, he pushed me out of the way.
“Stephen, don’t go. Please.” My voice caught.
He looked over his shoulder at me, his face shadowed by the small amount of light from the nearby streetlamp. “I’m sorry, Samantha. I’m sorry I did what Natalie told me to do. I shouldn’t have taken your soul.”