by Ali Winters
Something wraps around my wrist and pulls me up to my feet. At first, I think it is yet another demon, except they all vanish. Then an arm wraps around my waist.
I thought he couldn’t protect me. I breathe out and slump against my savior. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome, my dear Clara,” he purrs my name against my ear.
I tense. Not Oliver. I twist in my savior’s arms and face him, and the cruel sneer marring his handsome face.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” Alaric’s casual words are betrayed by the threat in his voice.
I swallow, unable to think of so much as a single word in response.
He lifts one dark brow. “Do you not understand the creatures that lurk in the forest, or are you really that foolish?”
“Let me go,” I demand, but it’s nothing more than a breathy whisper.
“You are my ward.” His hold tightens around me. “You are my responsibility, and you won’t be getting far with that twisted ankle of yours.”
I shove away. He lets go without resistance. I stumble back several steps before bumping into a tree and using it to regain my balance. Each time I put weight on my left foot, sharp pains shoot up my leg.
“I’m leaving,” I say. “I won’t let you stop me.”
He laughs, and the sound, deep and rich, makes my stomach tighten. “You wouldn’t make it halfway back to that dilapidated hovel before something, or someone killed you… or worse.”
“I don’t care. It’s better than…” my voice cracks. “You are a vampire,” I say quietly. Those few simple words are enough, but it’s not everything. There is much more between us than just that. There has been more than that single fact for some time now.
His face changes into the neutral mask I have come to recognize as his armor.
“Yes, my dear Clara, I am.” Though the words agree, he says them with such anger… and hurt—then it’s gone, and I’m not sure if I’ve imagined it. “But by running away, you have broken both bargains you have made with me.”
“I know,” I say. My fingers dig into the trunk at my back as though my life depends on it.
“What you did that day in the forest—” He takes a step closer. “What you are trying to do—” Another step. “—it is punishable by death. You are aware of this?”
I nod.
He now stands only inches away from me.
“Do you know why we have the claiming?” he asks, changing the subject.
I’m not sure where he’s going with this, so I shake my head.
“To keep the humans in line. To keep you from rebelling and starting a war that you cannot hope to win. A war that would only end with your enslavement.”
A war that would start if humans fought back—if we openly killed the monsters that take us, that rip our lives to shreds as if we don’t matter.
“Pretty words to hide monstrous deeds,” I say. “You treat us as food, tear families apart, and prey on us until everyone fears you. We are not a resource to use and throw away—and I’m not your prisoner!”
He looks at me for a long moment, his expression even, unflinching from my outburst. “I never said you were, but you killed a vampire, my dear Clara, and now we both must suffer the consequences of your actions.”
I want to disagree with him, to point out every time he has made that claim… but has he?
Alaric reaches out, his fingers brushing against the base of my neck as he glides a lock of hair off my shoulder.
“I did not force this fate upon you,” he says softly, his eyes staying locked on the pulse in my neck, mesmerized as he speaks. “Your father was the one who offered your sister up like chattel and you who offered yourself in her place. When I came to your home, I had no such designs to curate such a situation. I merely accepted your offer.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” I say.
“There is always a choice.” He gives me a sad look filled with pity, but there’s a coldness in it. “It is lucky I found you before anyone else did.”
I scoff. “You and I have very different ideas on what constitutes as luck.”
“Believe me when I tell you this,” he says, leaning closer still. “Your fate at the hands of another vampire would have been a long, painful, and drawn out death.”
I swallow hard as he pulls back to look me in the eye.
“Alaric, please,” I say, but I’m not sure exactly what I’m begging for—a quick death, or mercy, or something else entirely. “If I owe a life debt, then take it.”
Alaric looks at me, and I can’t for the life of me begin to imagine what is going through his mind.
He closes the small distance between us, pressing his body against mine, one hand resting on my hip, his other by the side of my head, caging me in. Even now, with these slight touches, my heart pounds, not entirely out of fear.
He lowers his head so I can feel his warm breath on my ear. “Why are you so eager to die? Do you think so little of me because of what I am?”
I think of Mother, of her face, her features that are slowly fading from memory as time passes. I can hardly remember the sound of her voice anymore. “Vampires only know how to destroy. You are all dangerous.”
“So are humans, my dear Clara. Surely there is more to it than that.” He moves his hand from the tree to cup my face.
“A vampire killed my mother…” Shit… I don’t know why I admitted that out loud to him. “Kitty and I were left with only Father to take care of us.” I pull in a shaky breath, forcing myself to be brave and look him in the eye.
His arm around me is strong and unmovable like a solid steel beam. The way Alaric holds me feels like a lover’s embrace.
“It’s okay,” I say.
A thin red line encircles his irises as his fangs descend. Even now, he hesitates.
I turn my head to the side, close my eyes, and wait for the pinch of his bite as he pierces my skin, and kills me.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Alaric
Instinct wins over, standing this close to her. Our chests are flush together. I can feel every breath she takes with painful precision. The pulse in her bared neck beats wildly, calling my inner demon out, taunting and luring and daring me to kill her.
I lean forward, mesmerized by her heartbeat until my lips brush her skin. My fangs scrape that same spot. That thin layer of flesh is the only thing that separates me from the thing I crave the most.
Clara tilts her head further to the side, offering no resistance. I stay like that for a moment, feeling the beat of her heart beneath my lips.
“I don’t regret what I did,” she says quietly. “We all do what we must for the people we love.”
Following the words that nearly set my bloodlust free, is the faint scent of salt and water.
I inhale sharply and pull my head back, blinking and feeling like I am coming out of a trance.
A single tear glides down the side of her face. She’s crying.
“Do it already, you heartless bastard.”
I blink away the bloodlust as I regain my control. What a vexing creature she is turning out to be. I lift my hand and brush the strand of hair that had fallen over her face.
I can’t remember the last time I saw someone cry. Brushing my thumb over her cheekbone, I wipe away the tear. Clara shudders, her chest rising and falling as she prepares herself for a death I have had every intention on drawing out as painfully as I could a moment ago, a death I no longer think I can deliver. A death I do not want to deliver.
For the first time since meeting her, I look at her—really look. The pain of having her life ripped apart is evident. My goal has been to make her suffer for her crimes, but at every attempt, all I can hear is Rosalie’s voice admonishing me for my actions.
She murdered Rosalie—she doesn’t deserve my pity.
Clara’s pain shines through her bravado, even when she is willing to die. It tugs on me and, though I am loathed to admit it, we have something in common.
I thought I would have to spend my days and nights torturing her. But somehow in an attempt to use her repulsion of what I am against her, it became an entirely new game between us. And what should have kept us from interacting, has become my addiction.
I curse my soft mind and heart. Rosalie’s kindness that I’ve held dear for so long… the kindness that has kept me close to the humanity I’ve been clinging to since the day I was turned, has made me soft… weak.
Slowly, I release her and step back. It’s several seconds before she moves.
Clara peels open her eyes and stares bewildered. Her wild, long, dark hair frames her face.
“No.”
“No?” she asks, echoing me.
“I have taken nothing from you, and I do not plan on taking anything now.”
She wrinkles her forehead. “I don’t understand… then how am I to pay my debt?”
“Do you wish for death so desperately?” I ask. Was I wrong to think she didn’t want to die? As willing, as she seemed, her tears said otherwise.
Clara drops her gaze, her features hardening. “If it is a debt I owe you, let me pay it or let me go.”
“Do not tempt me, Clara.” I take one more step back and lift my chin, looking down at her as though her very presence offends me… “I will take nothing from you, but that doesn't mean there's nothing I want.”
There is something about her I want… her humanity.
It has been so long since I have been around mortals who were anything more than shallow worshippers that offered up their blood to have the mark of a vampire.
She shudders, her eyes sliding closed for the briefest moment. I’m not entirely sure it’s from revulsion either.
She takes a few steps away from the tree, favoring her left leg. This will make the trip back long and arduous.
“I won’t go back with you,” she says.
“I could always return you to your home and claim your sister. Would you prefer that?”
“No, Kitty is innocent. Leave her out of this.”
“The innocence of others hardly matters.” I don’t know if I am growing fond of her defiance or find it tiring. “You have no choice. A debt is a debt. Now come, we must leave.”
I walk away from her in the direction of the manor. She doesn’t follow at first, then after a moment, she does. The howling of demons growing bolder without my presence no doubt spurred her on.
“My ankle,” she says. “I can do little more than hobble.”
I pause to look at her. “Then, you better learn to hobble faster.”
I keep up my pace, stopping every several minutes, allowing her time to catch up when she lags too far behind, and my reach to keep the demons can extend no further.
Demons and saints… The average human pace is slow enough to drive me mad, but this… this is a new agony. To her credit, she doesn’t complain once.
I stop and finally look back at her upon her footsteps silencing. She stands, leaning on a tree with her weight off her left foot. Sweat glistens across her brow, and the grimace of pain tightens her features.
This woman has no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. She is behaving as though it were the middle of a bright day and not late into the night—as if we weren’t surrounded by higher demons that would rip her to shreds after possessing her body and breaking her in every way imaginable.
Clara looks up and begins walking once more. Her limp is more pronounced now, and her breathing labored even as she fights to keep it slow and even.
She stumbles and falls to the ground. She presses her hands into the dirt, her fingers digging in with the strain as she tries to push herself up.
I shouldn’t help her. She deserves to walk all the way back after the trouble she’s caused. Nevertheless, I stride over to her and lift her up, positioning her in my arms to carry her.
“What do you think you are doing?” she asks, every muscle in her body tensing.
“It will take us all week if I let you continue on at your pace,” I say, starting to walk. It’s a relief to finally make some headway. What would have taken hours at Clara's pace takes me minutes.
After she adjusts to the much faster speed, she relaxes into me. Then after another moment or two, she rests her head on my shoulder.
The little fool has allowed herself to grow comfortable when I am barely able to keep myself from destroying her—it is only her humanity that keeps that dark part of me at bay.
Sharp, searing pain shreds down my back. I stumble and we fall. We collide with the ground, a tangle of limbs as the growl of a demon snarls from behind.
“Stay down,” I order as I get to my feet and face the higher demon invading my territory.
It is one thing for lesser and higher demons to roam as they please, having no master. But all higher demons were once considered the most powerful of greater demons that bonded to an individual vampire. It is what grants both the demon and vampire their powers.
This was not a random attack—this nightmare was sent.
The demon morphs and changes shapes, avoiding the form it has adopted so I can’t identify its master.
“Who sent you?”
I pull in a deep breath and call to my power. It curls like a viper in the pit of my stomach, ready to strike.
“Youuu arrre weeeak,” it hisses. “Thissss isss gooood forrr usssss.”
The abomination’s red eyes lock onto Clara as it licks its nonexistent lips. It lunges. I lift my arms and send all the power I can summon to banish it. The movement does nothing, but it helps me focus the command.
Red, demonic power veins over my hands and up my arms. It rolls over my skin, snapping and cracking as it shoots out.
The demon fights against my hold, inching closer to Clara. Its large, gaping maw opens in an attack, waiting for its chance to strike.
I step to the side, placing my hands on the craggy skin, and push my powers into it.
The hardened rock-like flesh is so cold, it burns. I suck in a sharp intake of air between my teeth.
Long skeletal arms swat at me, talons digging into my back and slicing down.
I will not allow this trespass to go unpunished. I use every bit of power I possess, more than is wise, to send it away.
The demon rears up, eyes growing wide. It sways back and forth in the air. “Weee arrre nooot finisssshed,” it hisses the warning.
In the sigh of a breath, its corporeal form turns into black mist, vanishing into the night to return to their master.
I have several ideas who might be responsible, but… there is no time to dwell on that now. We must get back to the manor.
I feel my strength draining as the poison of its cutting claws seeps into me.
I turn to Clara and find her cowering against a tree. Her wide eyes still staring at the spot the demon had been seconds before.
“Are you all right?” I ask, reaching a hand out to her. Her sharp eyes finally look to me. Her throat bobs, but otherwise, she doesn’t speak or move. “Clara, we must go now.”
She slips her icy hand into mine and allows me to help her stand. If I fall outside the manor grounds, she will be taken by any demon that is in the vicinity. We must return to the manor before that happens.
I scoop her up once more and run.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Clara
He runs with me in his arms at an incredible speed. I tighten my arms around his neck and close my eyes against the dizzying blur of everything passes us by.
I find myself being lulled into relaxing against him. We make it to the manor in what could only be minutes. I expect him to set me down and leave me to find my way to my room, or yell at me for attempting to break our bargain.
But he doesn’t. Alaric slows to a walk. I try to wriggle out of his arms, and he holds me tighter, carrying me until we are safely inside. He kicks the door closed with his foot and storms into the drawing room where a blazing fire awaits.
I want to tell him to let me go, but judging from the g
lower on his face, he is beyond furious, and I don’t dare speak.
He stops next to the fireplace and releases my legs, lowering me gradually to the floor. With my hands braced on his shoulders, my body slides down his, caressing every line and muscle. My face warms.
Alaric’s chest heaves as his dark eyes narrow. I can’t fight the instinct that makes me back up. He advances with every step, closing the distance I create until my back presses against the wall.
“I told you,” he says low and dark. “Not to wander outside at night. What part of that did you not understand?” He grabs my face with both hands and moves my head around, then takes a half a step back and looks at the rest of me. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” I say, and I’m not thrilled that it comes out as little more than a breathy whisper.
He leans forward, resting his forearm against the wall next to my head. It’s so similar to when he found me in the forest and yet so different. His hands gently move over me, and this time there’s no anger in his posture.
My eyes flick to his mouth and linger on those full lips as he leans closer and closer. Heat washes over my body.
What is he doing?
Alaric’s eyes slide closed, and I don’t know if my heart thunders in my chest from anticipation or fear.
I open my mouth to protest as he leans against me. He’s heavy. The warmth spreading through me seconds ago, dissipates.
“Alaric?”
When he doesn’t respond, I know something is wrong.
He slumps. I manage to wrap my arms around him before he falls. There is a wet, sticky warmth where my hands touch his back.
He’s hurt.
Struggling to keep him from dropping, I lower him to the ground, positioning him on his side. I crouch and carefully examine his back, moving the scraps of material to get a better view. Several long, deep gashes cover his back.
His face is pale in the firelight, and he’s unconscious. For a moment, I don’t know what to do. There is no way I can drag him up to the third floor to his room. I should pull the dagger from my boot and end him now.