Tainted Crimson

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Tainted Crimson Page 17

by Tarisa Marie


  "Screwed?" I shudder.

  "Well, I'm strong. Really strong actually but he has the capability to be far stronger."

  "But he has to feed off of people and use their power to get his own right?" I ask.

  "Correct, yep." He nods while speeding up on the highway.

  "So why don't we just do the pop in and pop out thing?" I ask dumbfounded that we are wasting the time driving to this place when we could just pop over there.

  "Because when I do that it leaves what we call an essence trail which is basically a magic residue or footprint. It would give away our location and the hiding spot would be given away," he continues as we approach the chunk of land he's invested in.

  "Ah," is all I can muster. I'm shaking with fear. So much for being strong or whatever but I think having a complete psycho chasing me around justifies my feelings of absolute terror. Here I was thinking I was safe in Taverd and getting comfortable there. Stupid. I should've trained harder. I should've been ready for this. Did I not expect this day to come? I spent all my time trying to overcome the fact that supernatural beings are real and drooling over the guy sitting next to me instead of spending extra time preparing myself. Idiot.

  "We'll be alright," D reassures me when he looks over to see my grimace of terror. He grabs my hand in his and squeezes it tightly as we slow down to turn into the field.

  He parks the car almost exactly where he did last time and gives my hand one more squeeze before he jumps out. He opens the trunk of his car and pulls out a duffle bag.

  "What's that?" I ask trying to distract myself and not actually all that interested in the bag.

  "Just some emergency stuff I keep in the car. I have a bunch of them stashed all over. Warlock stuff."

  "Oh," I whimper while twiddling my thumbs nervously. "Are in the boundary of the spell thing?" I ask anxiously.

  "Of course."

  "Thank god," I mouth but don't say out loud.

  I follow him down to the clearing and the small body of water. He throws the duffle bag down and then disappears into the bushes. He comes back a moment later with his hands full of all sorts of crap. I wonder where the hell he got it. Obviously he didn't pop out anywhere because it would leave an essence or whatever.

  At my confused expression he says, "I've been preparing for this just in case. Do you really think I wouldn't have a backup in case something went wrong?"

  "What is that?" I ask nodding towards his hands.

  "Oh I have a bunch of stuff hidden in the bushes over there. A tent, food, chairs, a bunch of stuff. Never know how long we could be here, a couple days, a couple weeks." He shrugs.

  "How do we know when it's safe to go back into town? How did they even find us?"

  "It's safe when I go back, check that there are no vampires, and then report back to you. They haven't found us. Marco controls all of the vampires. He has packs of them that he sends around like bounty hunters when he wants something. The problem is that a few of them seen me and I had to kill them. It will be suspicious that some went missing but I hope that it gets written off as witches in the area or something and he doesn't think twice about it. I'll have to keep calling your dad so he doesn't come back to town right away because I'm sure they'll be checking out town for a day or two. Unless they suspect we’re here then maybe they'll be here longer. I'm not sure."

  "Is that safe? To call him I mean?" I wonder.

  "Yeah, we have burner phones in case of emergency."

  "Why are they in Sweden?" I ask, assuming that I'm not going to get much of an answer I never do but I need to keep talking so I don't freak out. He takes in my expression and understanding fills his eyes.

  "They're over there because they're having a meeting with some of the other immortals and a few rogue witches and warlocks. They're hoping to recruit them in their attack against Theenis. Obviously they're not telling the others about your existence which is why I've been in charge of you while they've been running around getting things in order," he explains and then adds, "you're terrified."

  I swallow hard. You'd think I'd be used to feeling scared by now. He pulls a large blanket from one of the bags he's brought and lays it down on the grass. He sits down on it and then pulls a chocolate bar from one of the other bags. I sit down on the blanket too. He breaks the chocolate bar in half and hands me one of the pieces. I take it although I don't feel like eating and begin nervously picking at it.

  "I can help if you want, I can block some of the emotion. If that's what you want," he offers while taking a bite of his half of the candy bar.

  I immediately shake my head. The idea doesn't sit well with me. He's done this to me before, without my knowledge, back when we left Denver and I did not like the intrusion.

  "Just talk about something, distract me," I beg while holding back tears. Eventually this Marco asshole is going to find me and do what to me? That's the big question isn't it? What does he want from me? I think about all of the students at my old school, all of the ones that were murdered because of Marco, because of my existence. Is it my fault?

  "Ari, you're okay," D says softly and wipes something wet from my face. I realize that I'm crying. I'm reminded of something that Jacob said a while before we left Denver. He told me that it's okay to cry, that holding it in would only lead the sadness to build up and one day I would explode. He was right. I think I'm exploding right now at the worst possible time. I’ve had months to do this, months, why now? God damnit, Ariella!

  I feel D's arms around my shoulders. I lean into him as he pulls me against him and I let the sobs violently wrack my body. I can't stop. I vaguely wonder if I'll ever be able to stop.

  Then suddenly it's dark and I realize that I fell asleep. I'm still in D's arms only we're now lying on the blanket instead of sitting.

  "You're awake," his husky voice states blankly.

  "I didn't mean to fall asleep," I whisper. I'm not sure why I whisper, maybe because the night is so quiet. I'd hate to wake nature.

  "It's okay, you needed it. I got ahold of your father and Jacob. They're staying in Sweden until further notice. They're safe."

  "Good," I say so quietly that I barely hear myself.

  "How are you feeling?" he asks then.

  "I don't know," I answer honestly.

  I realize that although I'm in his arms, cuddled against him, I don't feel like I shouldn't be. I don't feel like it's awkward either, it feels right. He runs his fingers through my hair mindlessly and says nothing. Why do I keep telling myself that i should be weirded out by this? Why do I keep telling myself that there’s no way that we can be together when it’s all that I’ve wanted these past months? Who cares if he’s been alive for three centuries? Who cares if he’s my father’s best friend? I love him as a friend and although I keep trying to deny it, I think I may love him as something more.

  "You're not sleeping? It has to be the middle of the night," I say finally.

  "I was watching you sleep," he murmurs.

  "It's pitch black."

  "I can see in the dark, Ariella." He laughs.

  Oh, yeah.

  "You're beautiful, even in sleep," he whispers softly. So softly that I'm not even sure he's meant for me to hear it.

  His lips are only inches from mine and it's driving me nuts. I want to close the space between us and let our lips meet. I imagine it. My body yearns for it. I feel his breath on my face, it smells warm like lavender. It's compelling.

  I feel his body tense and I can't help but wonder what he's thinking. Does he feel the same way? I'm no match for him. He deserves some lingerie model or someone outrageously gorgeous to come even close to him. I’m not match for him, yet he’s professed his care for me so many times over. I just don’t understand why he feels this way about me. I’m so plain.

  One of his hands moves down from my shoulder to my waist and I suck in a breath. I hope he hasn't heard.

  "Ariella?" he whispers.

  "Y-yes," I stutter breathlessly.

  "May I
kiss you?" he asks also sounding breathless.

  My heart hammers in my chest. I feel like I'm drowning. My head spins.

  My body makes up my mind before I even have the chance to think it through. "Yes," I whisper back.

  Then his hot lips are on mine in an instant. First slow, but then hungry, like he's been in a desert for days and I'm water. I can't help it when a moan escapes my lips. This only seems to make his kisses more urgent. His hand grabs my waist tighter and he uses his other to push himself off of the ground and on top of me. When his body relaxes on top of mine I let out another slight moan and find myself wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer. One of my hands gets lost in his hair while my other one reaches for his shirt.

  Then it's gone. His shirt just disappears. I let my fingers trace the finely sculptured art piece that is his body. This time it's him who moans and the sound sends me whirling into a frenzy. Then suddenly he's off of me and I'm left breathing ridiculously heavy.

  I feel next to me for him, wanting more, but he's no longer there. I sit up and squint into the darkness. I see the outline of his figure standing with his back to me a few meters away.

  I stand up and close the distance between us. "What?" I ask sadly. Why has he stopped? Has he realized that he’s made a mistake? My heart burns with hurt in my chest.

  "Your father and brother would kill me if they ever found out about this," he murmurs with concern.

  "They don't have to know," I say as if it's obvious.

  He sighs deeply. "Something about you has gotten me from the first time that I saw you. I've wanted you so badly but have known that I can't really have you. Not if I value my life or my friendship with your father. Only now do I realize that I would throw away my friendship with Theenis, as well as my own life, to be with you and that is absolutely nuts and it’s cheesy as hell but it's one hundred percent true. I've tried to change the way I feel. I've tried to ignore it and I can't. I can't get you out of my head. I can't stop worrying about you all the time. God, I pretended to not understand that ridiculous high school mathematics just so I could spend even more time with you than I was already which is crazy because I spend nearly all my time with you already. But I can't shake the feeling that you look at me like I'm some old guy or something. I know that makes no sense because I am old but you just have to understand that I don't feel old. I know you can't possibly understand but it kills me to think that you consider me to be old," he rambles and I watch as he nervously runs a hand through his hair.

  I'm frozen. I don’t know what to say. "You're not actually bad at math?" I finally get out even though it's the last thing I want to say.

  "No, I'm actually excellent at math," he chuckles and although I can't see his face I imagine that famous smirk of his splashed upon his face

  I want to tell him that I've felt the same way since I met him but I find myself speechless and tongue tied. I want to tell him that I don't see him as old. I want to tell him all kinds of things but nothing will come out. I take another step closer to him and intertwine my fingers in his. He doesn't resist. I look up at him knowing that he can see me although I can hardly make out the silhouette of his face.

  "I can't believe you're not bad at math," I murmur.

  "I'm not bad at anything," he says cockily.

  "Sure you're not." I laugh.

  "Okay, in all seriousness, I'm terrible at... No, I've got nothing. I'm good at everything," he teases.

  I roll my eyes.

  "I do think you're old," I finally get out. "Because you are old. But it's hard to consider you old when you don't look old. Trust me, I've tried to convince myself that you're not old and to stop thinking about you like...you are, but I can't because you are old."

  "That's exactly what I wanted to hear since I met you, Ariella. That’s all you had to say and I’d give up trying to make you feel the way I feel about you."

  My eyes widen slightly with surprise, he’s misunderstood me. “No, it’s not like that. Listen, I just can’t bring myself to understand why someone like you would want to be with someone like me. It doesn’t make sense. I feel like this is wrong on so many levels because I shouldn’t be interested in you and you shouldn’t be interested in me. Yet, here I am, very much interested in you and vice versa. I’ve been interested in you for a long time. I just haven’t been able to show it because I feel like I’m committing a crime or something.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  “Because you're supposed to be dead, D. You shouldn’t even be alive. You’re three hundred years old. It makes no sense in my mind that I feel this way or that you're alive. All of this is new to me. I can’t comprehend it all at once. I can’t get the fact that you’re three hundred years old out of my mind. It’s not something that I can just make myself stop thinking about. You are old, D, I can’t just stop knowing that. I’m just taking a while to get used to the fact. I don’t need to not feel like you’re old, I need to get used to knowing that you are.”

  “What?” he asks, confused.

  “I know I’m not making sense. I just don’t know how else to explain it. This whole time I’ve been trying to convince myself that you’re not old. I’ve been trying to convince myself of a lie. You are old. Instead of trying to convince myself that you’re someone that you’re not, I need to learn to accept who and what you are. Does that make any sense?” I try.

  “No.”

  “It’s not the fact that you’re old that is making this so hard and making me pull back. It’s the fact that I’m trying to convince myself that you’re not old when I know that you are. It’s like trying to convince myself that you’re human when you’re clearly not. In order for me to actually be able to be with you, I have to stop lying to myself and start accepting you for you.”

  “So you’re saying that you don’t care that I’m old? That you’re just as okay with that as my not being human?”

  “Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to say for the last five minutes,” I admit, annoyed at myself for rambling so much.

  “And you’re not disgusted by me?”

  “Absolutely not,” I reassure him, shocked at the thought. How could I ever be disgusted by this angelic man?

  “You’re not weirded out that I’m not human?” he questions.

  “Don’t you think that would be silly seeing as I’m not exactly human either?” I giggle.

  “You’re not human, but you were raised to think you were. I know that at heart you consider yourself to be human,” he says and he’s right. I do consider myself to be human.

  "I mean, every time I'm with you, I tell myself that you're old but then force the thought out of my head because I feel like I can't be with you because you're old. But that shouldn't matter. It shouldn't matter that you're old. Age shouldn't matter just like you not being human shouldn't matter. I think I'm confusing myself by thinking that it does matter when it really doesn't. I'm sorry, it's hard for me to put into words but basically what I'm trying to say is that I really like you. I don't care if you're old or if you're not human."

  Although I still can't see his face, I know that he's smiling. He turns, wraps his arms around my waist, and lifts me into the air.

  I scream out in shock. "What are you doing? Put me down!" I demand.

  He doesn't. He carries me back to the blanket and lays me down gently. His lips meet mine for another few quick moments, then he pulls away from me and I want to scream. I want more from him, so much more.

  I feel the heat of his body next to mine and I have to will myself not to get any closer to him.

  “You don’t know how glad I am to hear that, Ariella. Now go to sleep,” he says in a whisper. Then my eyes close as if his words are magic. The thing is, I know that they are exactly that because no way would I be able to fall asleep right now without someone forcing me to.

  Chapter 18

  I wake up surprisingly warm. I quickly realize that I’m wrapped in D’s arms. I wish I could stay like this forever but unf
ortunately I have to pee. The air is muggy with dew and the sun is just coming up over the tops of the trees around us.

  I glance at D. He’s staring up at the sky. Big surprise, he’s not sleeping.

  “Good morning, lovely,” he says and makes eye contact with me. I blush.

  “Good morning,” I reply and sit up. I wonder vaguely how terrible my hair is this morning but realize quickly that my problems right now are much larger than my hairdo. I walk over to some bushes to pee and surprisingly D doesn’t question me about where I’m going.

  When I return he’s munching on some beef jerky. He offers me some and I take a couple pieces. I’m starving.

  “Now what? We just sit here and wait this out?” I ask while prying open a juice box that he offers me.

  “Yeah, basically. I found you a feather to practice lifting,” he laughs and hands me a black feather. I take it, more motivated to lift something than ever. While I nibble on my breakfast I lay on my stomach and hover my hand over the feather. I close my eyes and imagine it lifting off the ground just like D taught me. Then I open my eyes and do the same thing. D isn’t looking, he’s rummaging through the storage container full of snacks he’s stockpiled. I take a deep breath and focus all of my emotion on the stupid feather and will it to lift. To my complete and utter surprise, it does. It lifts not only an inch or two but nearly a foot into the air and stays there hovering. At first I wonder if it’s the wind but once it hovers for a few seconds I realize that it’s not. It’s me.

  “D! D! Look! D!” I shout and hit his shoulder maybe a little too hard.

  He glances over to me confused and alarmed and his face lights up. “Nice. Next lesson, lifting a brick.” He chuckles.

  I stare at the floating feather in amazement. Look at me go! I want to scream with happiness. How long have I been trying to do this one little stupid trick? I was starting to think that my magic was useless like Jacob’s.

 

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