I pad out of my bedroom, a little self conscious to be around Bryce while I'm only wearing my ratty PJs. He's seen me in them before, but something's changed between us since our date. And since I told him about what Emma and Carlton are up to. I'm guessing it's because I proved myself completely trustworthy and not about to destroy the vampires at the first chance I get.
"How are you feeling this morning?" Bryce asks, putting a mug of tea on the table in the spot that indicates it's for me.
"Hmm." I wave my hand to indicate I'm so-so, as I drop into the seat and close my hands around the mug, letting the heat seep into me.
The chair opposite me scrapes back, and Bryce takes a seat.
"No blood this evening?" I ask, nodding to his plain black mug.
He shakes his head. "Haven't you noticed I don't drink every day?"
Huh. Doesn't he?
He chuckles. "I see some of your prejudices are still alive and well," he teases.
"I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I don't mean to be that way..."
"I know," he assures me. "But a lot of vampires don't drink daily, or if they do, it's not very much."
"It's all so different from what I was told as a kid," I admit. "We were always told that vampires were bloodthirsty. They'd do everything they could for blood, even if it meant murder."
"I suppose that makes sense. Some vampires centuries ago did everything they could to put that idea in people's minds. And even some vampires now aren't doing a great job of convincing people otherwise. Just look at what they're doing in the City Of Blood."
I clear my throat, an awkward question burning at the back of it.
Bryce's lips quirk up into a smile. "You're going to have to come out with it if you want an answer," he points out.
I take a deep breath. "Do you like blood?"
He chuckles and leans back in his chair. "That's not what I was expecting you to say."
"Sorry, should I have asked about the desire to rip someone's throat out?" I ask sweetly.
"Then I can counter with the startling piece of information that I've never once killed a human."
I'm not surprised in the slightest. The more I've gotten to know him, the more I've come to realise he's not the kind to even think about that. He hates the killing he's had to do, and he won't do it again unless he has no other choice.
"I figured as much," I admit, not wanting to leave him hanging for too long. "You don't seem like the type."
"Have you?" he asks.
Startled, I stare back at him, unable to come up with an answer.
"A human, I mean?"
I think back to the way Ravi and I had hunted Ashryn, and guilt floods through me. I don't suppose it counts, she was already a vampire at the time, and we never managed to kill her. I'm not sure that lessens my guilt.
"Not that I'm aware of," I say. "But I don't think it matters. I've taken lives. Human, vampire, does it matter?" I take a sip of my tea, mostly for something to do. I'm too lost in my past to even taste it.
"You were brainwashed," Bryce assures me. It's such a change from how he was when we first arrived here. What a change a few weeks and a kiss can make.
I flash him a weak smile. "I wish that helped me feel better."
"Maybe it's good that you don't."
"Does it make you feel any differently about your past? The way you were forced into it, I mean?"
He shakes his head. "If anything, it makes me feel worse. I like to believe I'm a strong person, as I'm sure you do too. But if that's true, then why was I so easy to turn? I barely hesitated. I just did it, without any thought to the consequences of what I was doing."
"It's not your fault," I reassure him, but it's probably more to him than me.
"But it is. I killed them. I heard their screams..." A haunted look flits over his face.
My heart breaks for him. I wish I could take the pain away, but I know it isn't possible. This is something he has to work through on his own.
We both sit there in silence. Both wearing the clothes we've slept in. Or maybe the ones we're pretending we slept in. I hate wearing anything more than a t-shirt while I'm in bed, but I'm hardly going to walk around in nothing more than that the rest of the time.
"Did you manage to talk to Dimitri about what I heard?" I ask softly.
Relief for the change of subject flits over his face. But then he shakes his head. "He's been out of the den, I think. But I promise as soon as I can talk to him about it, I will."
"Thanks." I wish I could feel relief at that, but the more time passes, the more worried I am. But that's not Bryce's fault. I know he's trying.
"What have you got on tonight?" he asks.
I shrug. "Politics, history of vampire hunting...the normal lessons. We've got a couple of hours before the first one." I grimace. He's only awake so early because he's learned that I haven't quite adapted to the vampire rhythm yet. Though I think I'm finally starting to get there.
He nods, then opens his mouth as if to say something, but shuts it before he can.
I cock my head to the side. "What is it?" I prompt. I want to add that he can ask me anything, but I'm not sure whether or not that sounds too awkward.
"Is this everything you want it to be?" he asks. "Here?"
I frown. "At Grimalkin?"
He nods.
I lean back in my chair. "I don't know," I admit. "I don't think it's what I expected it to be. But I've found some aspects particularly enjoyable." I wink at him, but make a complete hash of it.
Bryce laughs, the booming sound chasing away all the ghosts of our earlier conversation. Maybe we shouldn't be flirting and talking about the bad things we've both done in one sentence, but then, I don't see any other way of us getting past it. We're guilty of crimes, but we're also the product of our upbringings. And while that's not an excuse, it is something we have to work past.
Perhaps in forgiving ourselves, we can start towards earning the forgiveness of other people. As a child, I never dreamed of becoming someone who killed for a living. Now I'm an adult, I don't know how to deal with what's become my past.
"You look lost in thought," he says. "Anywhere good?"
"Try nowhere," I mutter, then sigh loudly.
"You shouldn't let guilt overwhelm you."
I smile at him, but I'm certain it comes out more like a grimace.
"Lily..." he starts.
I shake my head. "It's not important."
I go to pick up my mug, but he catches my hand in his and squeezes it. Despite my grim mood, it makes my heart skip a beat.
"I've been thinking about your visions," he says abruptly.
My eyes widen, but I don't pull away from his touch.
"What about them?" It feels odd to talk about them as candidly as this, but I also like it. He puts me at ease in a way I certainly never thought a vampire could. Huh. I don't even think about the fact he's a vampire most of the time.
"I want you to have something, for your protection." He pushes a small package towards me. It's been on the table the entire time, but I've dismissed it as nothing to do with me. I've spent my entire life turning a blind eye, it seems the habit has continued without me even realising it.
"What is it?"
"Haven't you gotten a present before?" he asks with a laugh.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "No," I admit. "At least, not that I can remember. I'm sure I did before I moved to the guild." A lump forms in my throat as I speak.
"I'm sorry, I should have thought..."
"It's not your fault," I assure him. "It's not something I've ever thought about before. No one got presents at the guild, so it didn't feel odd not to."
"In which case, I'm pleased to give you the first of many."
I giggle, a surprisingly girly sound coming from me. "I think that involves knowing many people," I point out.
"I meant from me."
"Oh." I glance between him and the package.
"Open it, Lily," he prompts.
I pull my hand away from his and pick up the package. It isn't heavy, and it's longer than it is wide. Unable to take the suspense any more, I tear the paper from it.
A knife clatters to the table. My eyes widen.
"Bryce..."
"I want you to be able to protect yourself."
"I don't think this is a good idea." They haven't given me a weapon since I was taken into custody. With good reason. In Ashryn's position, I wouldn't give me one either.
"It's been approved," he promises. "Kind of."
I raise an eyebrow.
He rubs a hand around the back of his neck nervously. "I got permission to give you a weapon if I thought your life might be in danger."
I swallow hard. Not only because it's a thoughtful thing to do, but also because I know he's right. Death is coming for me, if my visions are anything to go by. Though I don't think a knife will make much difference.
"Thank you. It's beautiful." I pick it up and balance it in my hand. There's nothing special about the outside of it, but one touch of this weapon and I can tell it's a high-quality one. He hasn't skimped on it in the slightest.
"You're welcome. But please, promise me you'll try and keep yourself out of trouble?" he asks.
I nod. "I will." And I hope I'm right.
Chapter Sixteen
I wish Bryce will hurry up and catch up with me. He's supposed to walk me between classes, and I feel so exposed without him next to me. But he got a call, and didn't want to put off answering it. Which makes sense. We've been hoping to hear from Dimitri for a few nights now.
The rest of the students mill around, oblivious to the way I'm feeling. That seems about right. They don't care that I'm not used to roaming around the halls. At most, the only thing that matters about me to most of them is that I'm human, and I've been here long enough for that fact to have become mundane gossip.
I shuffle my bag more comfortably onto my shoulder and push through the growing crowd of students. I'm not sure why so many of them are standing this still. Surely I'm not the only one who needs to get to a class.
I step through another cluster of students and find myself in a ring of them. I frown, glancing around. Why is no one crossing it?
My stomach drops like a rock as some sort of realisation sinks in. I've seen this before. And it does not end well for me.
I search for Bryce in the crowd, hoping I'll see his face. If I do, then perhaps this isn't the day I'm going to die. I gulp down my fear. He's nowhere to be seen.
"Come on, Bryce," I whisper under my breath. "Please?"
There's no response, which is to be expected. Some of the students pull away from me.
Should I go for my knife? A small part of me thinks I should. That I should do everything I can to get out of this situation alive. But the rest of me knows there's no point. The vision has already made it clear what's going to happen. There's no need to make things worse for anyone else.
As if on cue, Emma pushes through the ring of students and steps in front of me. I glance at her hands, but there isn't a knife in her hands.
I back away, but the students behind me push me back in. One look over my shoulder sends a shiver of fear down my spine. Carlton and his friends seem to have formed a barrier between me and the students who may stop my death because they're good people.
It barely even crosses my mind that I'm about to start bleeding out in the middle of a corridor filled with vampires. It'll test even the strongest of their resolves not to drink blood. It can't be helped.
"Are you okay, Emma?" I ask, my voice shaking ever so slightly.
She smiles sweetly at me, which only makes my stomach drop further. This isn't good.
"I will be."
"Oh, is there something I can help you with?" I clench my hands together, letting my nails dig into the palms in an attempt not to try and scratch her eyes out.
"You can answer me a couple of questions..."
"If I know the answers, I'll answer you."
"Why did you kill Julie?" she asks, hurt and anger warring for dominance in her voice.
I step back, confusion about what's going on whizzing around my mind. None of my visions included talking to her, but I don't suppose that means anything. I'm not sure how they work, but none of them have ever come to pass in the exact way they appeared to me. Which isn't particularly reassuring, given the circumstances.
I rack my brains, trying to think if I've ever killed anyone called Julie. The problem is, I don't know. I almost never knew who I was killing. They were only ever whats.
Somehow, I don't think that's the answer Emma is looking for.
"I was told to," I answer honestly. "Someone ordered me to do it." There's no lie in my words, but from the look on her face, anyone would think I had.
"And you just do what you're told all the time, do you?" she sneers.
I shake my head. "I'm sorry, Emma. I..."
"Don't say my name!" she shouts. "You don't deserve to use anyone's name. I can't believe they let you come here."
The sting of tears surprises me. "I'm sorry," I repeat. "I don't like my past any more than you do..."
"But you came here anyway?" she hisses. "You tried to become my friend?"
I want to point out that it's the other way around. She's the one who has been trying to become my friend. Though now I'm wondering what her motivations are regarding that.
"I'm sorry," I say again. There isn't anything else I can say. And it's true. There isn't a moment that goes by when I don't regret my past. But there's nothing I can do to change it. Something she should know too. But grief does funny things to people.
"Why aren't you making excuses?"
"There are no excuses to make," I answer.
I look around at the other students, but I already know they won't step in to help. The ones that know about my past already will most likely see things the same way Emma is. Those that don't will want to know what's going on between us and what they can spread around the academy in response.
"How dare you." Her hand slips into her pocket.
I hope the terrified look on my face is giving her all the satisfaction she desires. I'm not usually the quivering type. I've faced many vampires in my day, and I'm the one who has lived to tell the tale. But those times were different. I had a knife in my hand, and didn't have the knowledge of certain death. Something about that makes this situation a lot worse.
"There's no excuse I can offer," I say loudly. "I did what I did because I was told to. I was saving my own skin. The truth is, I don't know why I killed Julie. I don't even know if I did. All I can say is that I'm sorry I did it all, and if I could take it back, I would."
The other students are eerily silent, all of them watching and waiting for what's going to happen next. So far, Emma's only shouted at me. They have no idea this is going to turn violent.
Bryce's face appears behind the crowd. I almost sigh with relief, but my attention is pulled away by the glint of the knife in Emma's hand..
I take a deep breath and meet her eyes. I'm going to make her look at me while she does this. She can live with the nightmares of my expression as she stabs the knife into my stomach.
"Lily!" Bryce calls.
I cry out as the pain rips through me.
She twists, making it worse. Black spots float across my eyes. I try to take a deep breath, but that only makes it hurt more.
Emma pulls the knife out, then drops it, staring at the blood on her hands. Her eyes aren't filled with hunger, as I expect it to be, they're filled with horror. Perhaps she didn't think she could go through with it.
My hands rest on my stomach, and I try not to think about the wetness being my blood. My whole body begins to shake, and my knees weaken. I fall to them, the jolt of my weight hitting the ground sending another spasm of pain through me.
"Lily," Bryce says again. His voice is closer this time.
I reach out, my blood-covered hands wanting to touch him, to reassure him I'm not alone.
Then it hits me. He can stop what's happening to me. He can change this so it's not the end. Do I have the right to ask for that? I'm not sure about that. On the one hand, it's sort of what I've been asking for since I came under the custody of the vampires. On the other hand, why should I be afforded a second chance?
"Bryce," I whisper, unable to say his name any louder than that.
"I'm here," he assures me. "Someone go get one of the witch healers," he barks at the students.
He catches me as I slump over.
"Stay with me, Lily."
I stare up at him. He's the only thing I can focus on. At least I'll die with something pleasant in front of me.
"Don't let it take you, Lily," he says. "Help is coming."
I shake my head. I can feel the blood loss starting to affect me. There's no doubt I'm not going to last much longer.
"Please, Bryce. Don't let me go," I whisper, my voice hoarse.
Understanding dawns in his eyes. He's understanding what I'm asking without words.
The pain has almost vanished from my stomach, though I know the wound is still there, and that it's fatal, but that doesn't matter anymore. This is it. What dying feels like. It's more peaceful than I expect.
The last thing I see before my whole world goes black is Bryce smiling down at me.
Chapter Seventeen
I want to scream. Shout. Scratch at my skin. I'm not sure it's painful, but there's something...itchy about it.
Faces pass my thoughts too. Ones I haven't thought about in years. They bring the guilt with them.
I'm sorry, I think at them as they pass. But none of them say anything back. I shouldn't have asked Bryce to change me. I should have passed on from the world. I've brought so much pain and suffering to people, and all to save my own skin. I can say all I want to about being forced into it, but I made the decision. I drove knives into throats.
Worse, I let Ravi have his way.
Thinking his name triggers something, and my thoughts begin to blur.
Oh no. A vision? Is that possible while I'm half-dying? I'm not so sure. I can have them while sleeping, so I suppose it makes sense that I can now.
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