I racked my brain, tried to come up with some way around it, but there are too many what-ifs left hanging by not doing this.
The cold breeze nips my neck as I close the French doors and step out onto the terrace.
Brooke shivers and clutches my arm tighter as I lead her down the stairs, through the garden, and then to the trees lining the back. I don’t want any prying eyes. I’m the closest to tears I’ve been in years.
When we cross underneath the canopy’s autumn shield, I stop. I take a deep breath to steel myself and face Brooke.
“What is it, Mirko?” She releases my hand and holds my face. She sees right through me.
I haven’t done well closing off my emotions. They’re too painful and push too hard against the lid I try to shut over them.
I work my throat, trying to relax the muscles before I can speak. “Your dad’s here.”
“Yeah …?” She raises her eyebrows.
“He’s come here to claim you as his daughter.”
Her face lights up. “I know. Can you believe it? He never even knew my mom was pregnant, so it was never that he didn’t want me.”
My throat hurts.
How can something so painful for me cause her so much joy?
I curl my lip at her happiness despite my sorrow. “Do you remember the night we spent in the cave?”
She grins and tilts her head mischievously. “I remember,” she whispers, her voice thick and creamy.
God, I want nothing more than to pull her close and slide my hands under her shirt, up the warm, smooth skin of her back.
I constrain the urge.
Focus.
“You asked me about us being together. If we were allowed to be together …” My words hang in the air. I don’t want to do this.
Her eyes dull as if she understands where I’m going with this. “No,” she says on an exasperated breath.
“He’s claimed you, Slatki.” Pain thick and potent rides my voice, and I can hear the torment they twist into my heart.
She hears it too because her eyes well with tears. She wipes at them forcefully with anger. “No.”
The dam breaks and the words spill out as fast as they can before I can’t say them. “It was unacceptable for us to be together with you serving with the Društvos, but it wasn’t forbidden; it wouldn’t kill you to be with me. But Zladislov is the Head of every Pijawika in the world. A powerful Pijawika would have been enough, but he rules over every one of them. If he knew we were together—that we actually love each other—he could banish me from ever seeing you again. Or worse. I can’t have you in the position you’re in and not know if you’re safe, Slatki. To not be on the inside of your security detail. No matter how much it kills me, I can’t not be near you.” My throat finally closes off, and a single, lonely tear climbs onto my lower lid and falls, running down my cold cheek.
That spurs the tears Brooke holds back. They stream down her cheeks in groups of two.
“No.” She wraps her arms around me. “We won’t tell him. He doesn’t have to know.” She steps back and looks at me. “If he can’t know, he won’t know.” She has so much determination and desperation on her face.
Something inside of me shifts, slips, and melts away.
Courage is what carries you forward in your resolve when something is difficult, and that is what I lost.
What I’m about to do is completely selfish and cowardly. I don’t deserve her.
“No one can know. Not your mom, not Jaren, not Kaitlynn, no one, Slatki. Do you understand? No one can know about us. Absolutely no one.”
What am I doing? This is dangerous. For both of us.
She wipes her face and smiles as if she’s happy and confident in our decision. “I promise. Whatever we have to do, we’ll make it work. No one will know. I won’t breathe a word of it to anyone.” She brushes delicate and fierce kisses across my face.
It isn’t that I don’t trust her, but to not touch her, to not kiss her in front of anyone else is going to be difficult enough. But to have to control my body language, my face, and my eyes from betraying us is going to be damn near impossible.
I pull her close to me and hold on to the most important thing in the world to me.
As long as we love each other, I’ll never be able to let her go.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Brooke
I run across the white-pebbled walkway toward the house, trying to focus on pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
Mirko told me we can’t be together.
I won’t live without him.
The ache returns and I try to push away all thoughts that it isn’t real. Everyone has to believe it is. I don’t feel like crying anymore, but I force the tears to come anyway. Guilt weighs on me for being a lying brat, but I have to do it in order to keep Mirko. And I’m willing to do anything to keep him.
I sprint up the terrace stairs, tear through the back sitting room and east rotunda, down the hall, and finally reach the billiard room.
David and Kaitlynn wrestle on the couch, Kaitlynn in a laughing fit. Man, I hope somewhere down the line Kaitlynn forgives me—that she’ll somehow understand.
We don’t lie to each other. Ever. By doing so, I’m carving a huge rift in our relationship—all so I can keep the one I have with Mirko.
Jaren looks up and immediate concern turns his features down. “Brooke, what’s wrong?” He stands and moves toward me, but I put my hand up for him to stay away.
Kaitlynn and David stop wrestling and turn toward me. “Brooke?” Kaitlynn asks and pushes David off. She jumps from the couch and rushes to me.
More tears stream down my cheeks, but they’re spurred from guilt at having to lie to my best friend in the whole world, from having to break her trust. It physically hurts me to be disloyal to her.
When Mirko asked if this is something I could do, I looked at his face and had no doubt. But being in front of Kaitlynn and seeing the worry on her face, I falter. “Upstairs?”
She wraps her arm around me. “I’ll catch up with you later,” she tells David and then leads me out of the game room.
We pass by the library where my mom’s hanging out. “Brooke … Kaitlynn?”
Crap, her too?
She comes out and joins us. “What’s going on?”
I cry harder. Although my mom lied to me about almost everything, I still hate lying to her, and I hate even worse having to deceive Kaitlynn.
This plan better work or I’m going to be friendless, a boyfriend short, and in the path of a scorned mother.
“Upstairs,” Kaitlynn says for me. The three of us trek the stairs.
I’d like to make it up there before anyone else comes over. I’m kind of hoping I’ll tell them and then they can slowly trickle the information to everyone else.
I’m a horrible person! Expecting to take the easy way out and have them do my dirty work. Acid rises in my throat because that is exactly what they’ll do. I’ll play it off as not wanting to talk about it, and they’ll make sure to tell everyone who needs to know. And I won’t even have to ask them.
I deserve to rot in hell for being so selfish and shady.
My mom shuts the door behind us as Kaitlynn and I sit down on my bed. My mom sits on my other side. “What is it?”
I whimper, feeling sorry for myself that I actually have to lie to them to keep Mirko from breaking up with me. “Mirko told me that because my father is claiming me, and it’s forbidden for Zao Duhs and Pijawikas to be together, we can’t be a couple.”
“Oh, honey,” my mom says. Her voice trembles as she wraps me into her chest and pets my hair. She knows what it’s like to love someone she isn’t supposed to. By those two words, she seems to grasp what I’m feeling much better than she understood my breakup with Jaren.
With Jaren, he’s simply a stupid boy.
With Mirko, our story is tragic.
She also seems to trust me more with Mirko than she ever did with Jaren. She never acts weary of me h
anging out with Mirko like she did when I was with Jaren. Maybe it’s because she’s desperate for what Mirko offers—protection for me.
“Aww, Brooke, I’m so sorry.” Kaitlynn rubs my back. “Did your dad say something to him?”
I pull away from my mom so I can talk and wipe my eyes. “No, Mirko said if my father found out about us, he would send Mirko away, and Mirko can’t handle not knowing if I’m safe.” It hurts to even repeat the words. The act of hiding our relationship doesn’t change any of that.
Is our plan the right thing to do after all?
Of course it’s the right thing to do. Nothing has ever felt more right than being in Mirko’s arms.
“I can’t believe they’re so crazy about who people should and shouldn’t be with. It’s stupid. And racist,” Kaitlynn says.
“It is,” my mom adds, “but it’s been this way for hundreds of years. I don’t think they’ll ever change. I’m sorry, Brooke.”
Tears fall faster down my cheeks, partly because they should at this moment and partly because I hate that I’ll have to hide my feelings, my time spent with Mirko, for the rest of my life.
My mom makes a clicking sound with her mouth, the one she makes when something is really sad. “I know, honey. I know.”
We sit quietly, their comfort welcome, and yet it feels wrong.
After a while, my mom leaves, but Kaitlynn stays a couple of hours longer. “I can’t imagine not being allowed to be with David. It makes no sense to me. As long as both people are happy, they should be able to love each other. How is your loving Mirko hurting them?”
“It doesn’t. They’re bigoted idiots. Hollywood makes vampires seem so cool. Remember all the vampire movies we watched and thought they were so great?”
She smiles and nods.
“Well, in the real world, they’re not. In the real world, they suck. They may be full of power and strength and speed, and a thousand different crazy gifts, but they make sure you live a life closed off and limited in the most important ways. Being a vampire is not glamorous at all. You’re controlled. Suffocated. Isolated and rejected.”
She furrows her brow in agreement. “I can’t even imagine.”
“If it were David, would you try to talk him out of it?”
“Oh, of course I would. Things with David are different—I am way more attached to him than I have ever been with anyone else.” She smiles.
I grin, genuinely happy for her. She and David are perfect for each other. He’s playful like she is, giving when she’s stubborn, tough but gentle enough in every way she needs. “I’m glad to hear it’s working out with you two.” I think if she were in a situation similar to mine, she would do the same thing to stay with David. “So, you’d fight to keep him?” I mean “lie,” but saying so will make her suspicious. I can’t risk it. I told Mirko I could stick to our plan without giving anything away, and I will.
“I so would,” Kaitlynn says, as if to encourage me.
Geez, I love this girl.
I hope she remembers our conversation and the emotions she feels right now. I’m confident that as long as she does, she’ll forgive me for lying to her.
Experience gives a person a different perspective on situations, and I believe Kaitlynn is experiencing love in a way that will allow her to pardon me later for lying. At least that’s what I tell myself. Considering how I feel about Mirko, I think I would be able to forgive her if the roles were reversed.
***
I mope around for the next few days, and I’m sure word spreads about Mirko and me. Everyone gives me sympathetic glances and is careful about mentioning Mirko’s name in my presence more than they have to.
Jaren, though, recognizes an opportunity when he sees one. When he starts chatting me up, I’m sure he figures whatever is going on with Mirko and me is a chance to get me back. And I know for a fact it drives Mirko nuts—he tells me so. He hates that he can’t do anything about it, and that he has to be strictly business whenever we’re around anyone else.
I hate it too.
The last thing I want is for Jaren to approach me about it.
So, of course, he does.
We’re in study hall. I’ve already convinced Mirko to keep his distance. If he doesn’t, it’s too hard for me to act like nothing is going on between us. This leaves me alone at the circular table in the corner of the room.
Jaren sits and plops his English book down in front of him.
I peer up to spy his book and wait to see if he’ll try to talk to me. I catch Mirko out of the corner of my eye, stepping behind a bookshelf.
Oh, great.
“Hey, Brooke,” Jaren whispers and leans closer to me.
I look up and am surprised by his stunning smile. The one I fell for over two years ago. The one I used to dream he’d shine my way, for only me. The one I haven’t seen in a couple of weeks. I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed it … until now.
I smile back, happy to see him happy again. “Hey,” I whisper.
“See? I knew your dad cared about you.”
My grin widens because he did tell me that. “Yeah, I didn’t see that coming.”
“I did.” His voice is soft but jovial. He winks at me.
His dimples, the wink, the hushed, masculine tone of his voice, all of it used to drive me crazy. But having all of that in front of me right now only reminds me that it used to mean more than it does now.
“So,” Jaren says hesitantly, “I’ve been wondering. With you … with him … do you ever … miss us?” he stumbles.
I freeze, my pencil midair.
I expected him to flirt with me. I expected him to try to flatter me. I did not expect him to come right out and ask me something like this. How can you feel someone out who’s already made her choice—and it wasn’t you?
I guess the only way he can—grow a pair and trade up for balls of steel.
“What I mean,” Jaren says more confidently, “is do you still love me?”
Wow. Jaren’s turning into the man of steel.
I’m with Mirko, but I can’t tell him that. I can’t tell him how much I want to be with Mirko, either. But sure, I still have feelings for Jaren. They’re not as deep as my feelings for Mirko, at all, but he was the first guy I ever said “I love you” to, and you never forget your first love.
What am I supposed to tell him? I don’t want to lead him on, but I don’t want to lie to him—anymore than I have to, or to Mirko.
“Yes,” I answer.
It’s like Jaren’s body melts against an invisible wall and he smiles, his dimples deepening.
“But we can’t go back, Jaren. We can’t change what we’ve been through or what we’ve lost. We can’t change that I love Mirko.” I don’t like having to remind him of that, nor do I like having Mirko hear that I still have feelings for Jaren.
This is so confusing. Do I say what I think and feel, or what someone else wants to hear?
Jaren slumps back in his chair. “Brooke, I’m sorry. It’s all I’ve ever known. When my dad was hurt or confused, he pushed me away. I was scared and I pushed you away. I’m sorry. But I’m learning. I like who I am when I’m with you. I like who we could be together.”
There was a time when I couldn’t have agreed more. I would’ve smiled and reached over to touch my lips to his. And I feel bad that he never got the chance to set things right with me. That he was never able to show me he could move past that, that we could move past that together. But it isn’t enough to pull back the part of myself that reaches toward Mirko.
I look at Jaren regretfully. “I’m sorry too.”
“I don’t get it. We had time to get to know each other. For months, we built a foundation of getting to know each other—a connection. You haven’t known Mirko very long at all.”
How do I fix this? The hurt and confusion on his face pains me, but at the same time I’m frustrated that he discredits my feelings for Mirko, simply based on a ratio of time spent. “That’s so not fair. You were wi
th Tiffany for two years. Does that mean I should’ve expected you to have loved her more than you did me?”
“No, I already told you it was never with Tiffany like it is with you.”
And that’s when he gets it. That he’s my Tiffany. That no matter how much sense it makes that I should love him more and choose him, Mirko will always mean more to me.
Jaren’s right. Mirko and I didn’t have the time to slowly ease into each other. But we don’t need that. A part of Mirko recognized right from the beginning that something within me completed him. It took me a while to recognize it myself, but once I did, I wondered how I didn’t see it before, how I didn’t feel it before.
Jaren straightens his back. “Sorry to bother you.” He grabs his book, chair screeching against the floor as he slides it back.
“Jaren … you’re not bothering me.”
But by then, he’s already walking away.
I drop my head down over bent arms and exhale deeply, a motorboat sound vibrating from my lips. Maybe the Tiffany comparison was too harsh?
Mirko sits down in the chair next to me.
“Don’t say anything, you creeper.”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to say anything about your confession of still having feelings for him—”
My eyes widen. “You just did!”
“But I am going to gloat,” he continues as if I didn’t speak.
I eye him warily. “Oh, yeah. About what?” I can’t recall anything that would have Mirko acting so smug.
“You diverted him back to ex-boyfriend status. After all his flirting with you and irritating me when I could do nothing about it, this made up for all of that. And I didn’t have to do or say a thing. It was all you, Slatki.” He looks at me endearingly prideful.
I want to smack him and lick his face at the same time—smack him for being so happy in the wake of Jaren’s pain, and lick him for the way his eyes smolder.
I decide I should probably do neither. “You should get back to sleuthing behind your bookshelves before I lick your face.”
He leans in closer. “What if I want you to lick my face?”
My insides melt and constrict at the same time.
Enemy Within (Vampire Born Trilogy, #2) Page 9