Dark Secrets Box Set

by Angela M Hudson

  “Amara, kiddo, relax, it’s just me.” Eric grabbed my arm.

  “What are you doing in here?” I quickly covered my bra with the sheet.

  “I was watching you sleep.”

  “Oh my God. Eric, this is crossing the line.” I tried to stay calm but, before coffee, that was hard.

  “Well, you don’t return my calls.” He shrugged.

  “That’s because I’m trying to get you out of my life.”

  “Ouch.”

  “It’s for your own good.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m messed up, Eric.”

  “You look pretty normal to me.”

  “I’m not. I’m indecisive, overly-emotional, and I’ll just lead you on then reject you, if I’m honest.”

  “Well, what if I like the torment you put me through?”

  “Then you’re sadistic, and I don’t want to hang around someone who’s into that kind of thing.”

  “Oh, funny first thing in the morning, aren’t we?” He repositioned himself, lacing his fingers over his knee. “You getting up, or coming back to bed?”

  “Eric. You have to leave.” I pressed my fingers to the budding headache. “Wait, no, not just leave—go away. For good.”

  Smugness curled around his smile. “You won’t abolish your desire to sleep with me by forcing my absence.”

  “I don’t have any desires to do anything with you.”

  “Except sleep with me.”

  A pause allowed me to control my fury. “You’re a rebound guy, don’t you get that?”

  He shrugged dismissively. “I’m okay with that.”

  “Eric.” I rubbed my face firmly. “I can’t do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “I’m attracted to you. Okay. I probably will end up sleeping with you, but I’ll never let myself fall for you.”

  “That’s not what I want, Amara.”

  “Well, what, exactly, do you want then?”

  “Companionship. Sex.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “And you’re okay with me not ever loving you?”

  “If you ask me, that’s perfect.”

  “Hm.” I hadn’t expected that.

  “Come on.” He patted the spot next to him. “You’ve got time before work. Let me show you how real vampires please a woman.”

  For a second, my mind pictured it: his body and mine completely tangled; the muscles on his arms tightening, one hand cupping the bend of my knee, drawing it up over his hips…

  “No.” I stole the sheet completely out from under him to wrap around myself. “I can’t be late for work again. And you need to get out of my bed before Mike walks in and sees you.”

  “Why can’t he see me in here?”

  “Because he’ll think I slept with you.”

  “So?”

  “So, it’ll hurt him.”

  “Why? Shouldn’t he be moving on?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “You’re my friend. Of course it’s my business.”

  “No. It’s not. Now get out.”

  “No. I’ll stay.” He folded his arms and watched me move across the room, then nodded toward the sheet. “I’ve already seen you in your underwear, you don’t need to hide.”

  “Of course I do. I have self-respect.”

  “You also have a great ass. And lovely pink nipples,” he noted. “Very sexy.”

  “When did you see my nipples?”

  “Amara, you walk around your room naked, with your curtains open. I’ve seen a lot of things you wouldn’t want me to see.”

  My heart dropped into my stomach. “You butt-wipe. I hate you!” I grabbed a pillow off the floor and ditched it at his head. He, of course, caught it and laughed at me.

  “Relax. You’re hot. A little skinny for my tastes, but you still look good naked.”

  I shook my head, biting my teeth together hard enough that I heard a small crunch. “You know, if I ever see David again, Peeping Tom, I bet he’d love to know you were hanging around outside my window—”

  “He’d kill me if you told him that.”

  “He’d just read my mind anyway, and—” I turned around to get my clothes out of my dresser drawer, and when I looked at Eric through the reflection of the mirror, saw nothing. Vampire Myth 101 danced in my head; I was sure vampires had reflections.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the empty bed. “Eric?”

  He was gone. Seriously gone.

  Although, now, I felt a little bad. It wasn’t like I wanted him gone, and I didn’t really even care that he’d seen me naked—God knows when that was—I just didn’t want to be late for work again. And, on Mike’s advice, I wasn’t really sure I should be friends with him anymore.

  But then, I wasn’t really sure Mike was right, either. A new relationship might actually be healthy for me.

  Although, I cared enough about this sexy newcomer to worry that my inability to love him wholly might one day hurt him. Despite what he claimed to want from me, through time, he may start to want more. And I may never be capable of giving it. And he wasn’t capable of that, either, since he was bound by Set laws. It would be the David Saga on repeat.

  “Ara?” Mike knocked on my door.

  Man. Did I have to buy peace and privacy from the grocery store in order to get dressed alone?

  “Hang on, Mike.” I wrapped the sheet around my chest and under my arms. “Okay. Come in.”

  “I thought I heard voices in here?” He popped his head in the door, scanned my bed with his eyes, then looked back at me.

  “Yeah, I was just talking to myself.” I flashed him an innocent smile.

  “Mm, of course you were.”

  “You know me: crazy as,” I said, then let out a long, hint-laced breath.

  “Anyway,” he said, opening my door fully. “I was just wondering if you were working today.”

  “Yep, and I’m actually late, so…”

  “Get out?” he suggested sweetly.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “Right. Sorry.” He shook his head and backed away. “I’m off for a run, okay?”

  “Have fun.”

  “You… I know you’re late for work, but… you don’t wanna come, do you?”

  I did want to. I really did. But seeing him all dressed up in his sneakers and gym shorts, his arms toned and muscular under the black tank top, was enough to make me regret our break-up for a single moment. Silly things like that often did. But I was smart enough to know it wasn’t what I really wanted. So, I sobered my hormones, denied my lonely body the touch it desired so badly, and turned away. “No. I’m good.”

  “What was that?” He pushed the door open a little more and walked in.

  “What was what?”

  “What was the way you just looked at me?”

  I smiled to myself, digging in my undies drawer. “I can’t help it, Mike. You’re actually really hot.”

  “And you’re standing here in your underwear and a sheet.” He touched my almost bare shoulder, just a soft tickle of his fingertip. “How do you think I feel to know you’re thinking things I want you to think?”

  My spine lengthened, head rolling up straight as his finger went down, pushing the sheet away to rest under the clasp of my bra.

  “Can you feel that energy between us?” he asked, his warm breath exciting the tiny hairs at the base of my skull. “It’s still just as intense as always.”

  I wanted to let the sheet fall away and fold myself into his chest, but underneath this covering, my body had become so disgustingly thin I knew he’d ask questions I had no answers to. I clutched it to my collarbones and spun around to face him. “Mike. Don’t.”

  “Right.” He stepped quickly back, eyes awash with deep realization. “Shit. Ara. I’m sorry.”

  “Please don’t be sorry.”

  He jerked away again, both hands coming up as I tried to touch him. “Just don’t,
baby.”

  “Mike, it’s not that—”

  “Don’t justify it, Ara. I stuffed up. I’m sorry,” he said, and practically slammed my door shut behind him, leaving me alone with the shudder of cold confusion.

  The thin girl in the mirror stared back at me when I turned around again, the bones in her shoulders sticking out like branches seeking sunlight, her once pretty white skin grainy and bluish, settling around her eyes in a combination of misty grays and purples.

  “That didn't go well,” I said to her.

  Slowly, I lifted my bony hand to the glass, and as the mirrored person beyond did the same, I closed my eyes and imagined for a second that it was David pressing his palm to mine.

  Since the blood transfusions after being attacked last year, my iron levels had been really low. I wondered if that’s why I felt tired all the time, why nothing I ate seemed to put weight on me. All I wanted was to go back to bed and sleep it off. But I had to go to work, to that pokey little shop to teach kids that didn’t want to learn. I just needed to be strong now; to dig deep and find the fight I knew I had inside.

  I studied my hand for a while, loathing the youth. I wanted it to be aged; wanted it to be so wrinkled and ready for death that people would shake their heads and ask how I was still breathing. I could go on today—go to work, face Mike again and pretend everything was fine between us—but only because I knew that each day I fought to live was one day closer to finally dying.

  “I don’t expect you to move on with your life anymore, David,” I said to the mirror. “I understand now. We never will.”

  * * *

  “Mike, you back yet?” I called, wandering out of my room.

  All the windows were open, the morning light helping itself to my dark little world, bringing with it a cool, dewy breeze. I stopped in the middle of the kitchen, suspiciously eyeing the cold toast sitting popped up in the toaster, and the two mugs, half-filled with milk and coffee, awaiting the hot water. There were signs of life, but no Mike.

  “Oh, well, no sense made from wasted toast.” I pilfered the half-cooked bread, poured some hot water into a mug then grabbed it and the plate as I headed for the table.

  “Where’s mine?”

  The sudden appearance of a face scared the dishes right out of my hands, sending them toward the floor. I covered my ears as the clatter of glass on tiles masked my squeal, and coffee splashed into the air, coming back down over everything below knee-height.

  “Eric!”

  “Sorry, my bad.”

  “Argh.” I bent down to pick up the glass, shaking the coffee off my fingertips. “I wish it really was true about vampires and thresholds.”

  “Now what fun would that be?” Eric grinned, squatting down to help me.

  “Fun wasn’t what I had in mind.”

  He winked at me, reaching over to wipe my chin. “You have coffee here.”

  “Yeah, no thanks to you.” We stood up again. “What are you doing here, anyway? I thought I told you to go away—forever.”

  “I came to apologize for being in your bed this morning. That was pretty rude of me.”

  “Yes, it was. And invasive and creepy and—”

  “I know.” He traced a circle on the floor with the tip of his toe. “I thought maybe a forceful-but-humorous approach might win you over.” He offered a remorseful smile. “I am really sorry.”

  “Argh! Fine.” I dumped the pile of glass in the sink. “Apology accepted.”

  “Great. So, are you gonna stop telling me to go away now?”

  I sighed. “Mike thinks I shouldn’t be around you.”

  His face folded in outrage and confusion. “Why?”

  “Because I’m confused and messed-up and still in love with David.”

  “That’s exactly why you should be around me.”

  “How do you figure?”

  He looked at the glassy mess, his hands in his pockets. “Can I take that to the trash for you?”

  “Yeah, thanks. I’ll just get this mopped up.” I headed for the broom closet, stopping when Eric gave a little yelp, jerking back from the sink. “What happened?”

  “Cut myself.” He held his thumb up, squeezing the base until a round, full drop of dark-red blood pooled out.

  “Vampires don’t get cut by glass,” I said with wide eyes, taking a step back. “You did that deliberately.”

  “Perhaps.” He grinned, drifting closer. “You’ve tasted vampire blood before.”

  “Mh-hm.” I nodded, tasting it in the air.

  “It’s addictive, isn’t it? Even the smell.”

  My breath shuddered, cold heat rising up to my cheeks. “David never warned me about that.”

  “He didn’t need to. He wasn’t counting on you making friends with a vampire.”

  “Eric, don’t come near me, please.”

  “Why?”

  “Because… I want it.”

  “Have it.” He offered his thumb.

  I turned my head away. “No. It’s taken me a really long time to stop craving it.”

  “But I’m here now; you can have it whenever you want.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “It’ll make you feel good.”

  “I know, that’s why I don’t want it.” I leaned right back against the counter.

  “No, you only don’t want it because you’re afraid I’ll take your virginity after.”

  “You will.” I looked from his thumb to his chocolate eyes, the pupils spreading out over the whites like ink.

  He flashed that mischievous grin. “I’ll only do what you ask me to do.”

  “Eric, I’m asking you not to do this,” I said with zero resolve.

  “You’ll thank me later,” he said, and cupped the back of my neck, forcing my lips apart with his thumb.

  I tried to turn my head, scratching at his arms like a cat tugging a collar, but a rush of flavor eradicated the fight, giving rise to a thirst—an involuntary desperation for blood—his blood.

  My chest felt bound, thickened and restrained, my lungs expanding the way they did only when I ran—pumped full of adrenaline—until, at last, the sensation of calm saturated me, and the splendor of his taste came into focus. My heart and soul suffocated in the elation of his life-force, fighting only for the will to drink, to make this moment last forever.

  I gripped his hand, drawing at his flesh, swallowing his blood in the small sips the tiny cut would allow. And I didn’t care that it was blood, that it was considered gross by human definition. I didn’t care that, as he moved his knee between my legs, I parted them, completely submitting to my human desires. He was like my favorite meal, the one you have after being on a camp for four days eating nuggets and badly-cooked eggs. I wanted his blood, and I’d give him anything in return for that.

  He slipped his finger deeper into my mouth, and I clamped the base, pushing the blood out and moving it around with my tongue. He tasted so different to David, almost sweeter.

  Eric’s mouth came alongside mine then. I turned my head to invite him—to show him I wanted his touch—wrapping my arms around his neck as he slipped his other foot between mine.

  “Amara?” his whispered hesitantly.

  “Mm?”

  “That’s enough.” The grip released, and his thumb came away, leaving me cold where my lips searched the air for absent flesh.

  “But I wasn’t ready,” I said.

  “I know.” He brushed my hair back firmly, holding my face, his fingers slowly going taut like wet ropes. “But I kinda like you, and I’m about to kill you.”

  When my eyes opened to his smiling face, instant regret flooded my sinking heart, like gravity dropping inside me. “Oh my God! What’ve I done?”

  Eric pressed his brow firmly to mine, his breath spilling into my mouth. “You liked that. Don’t be ashamed.”

  “Ashamed? That doesn’t even begin to describe it, Eric! How could you do that to me? I—”

  “Ara?”

  I jerked back in
voluntarily, eyes darting to the man standing behind Eric. “Mike!”

  “Who’s your friend?” Mike asked, his stance widening.

  Eric walked confidently over and extended his hand. “Hey, I’m Eric.”

  “Nice to meet yo—” Mike’s voice broke off to a grunt as he pulled Eric close with a jerk, flipped his arm over and looked at his wrist, then at me. “What the hell, Ara?”

  “Mike?” I pleaded, watching as the pink in his face became bright red and his shoulder rolled back, taking his elbow with it. I had no time for any reaction other than to cover my mouth as he drove his fist forward. Eric stumbled back, crumbling the kitchen cabinet before rolling away, leaving Mike’s next strike to powder the chipboard.

  “Get back here, you little shit,” Mike yelled. “I’m not finished with you.”

  “Stop!” I snagged Mike’s sleeve, but he yanked loose, folding his probably broken hand against his chest.

  “What is your problem, man?” Eric held his arms out widely.

  “You are my problem.”

  “Mike!” I yelled, grabbing his arm as he stomped toward Eric again. “Mike, stop.”

  “No, it’s all right, Amara.” Eric stood tall. “Let him go. Let him get it all out.”

  “No!” I rushed between them.

  “Leave. Now,” Mike growled through his teeth, peeling me away from his path.

  Eric looked at me, his jaw tight and still red where Mike hit, then exhaled loudly. “Okay, I’ll leave, but only because I know it’ll kill her if I hurt you. Amara?” He took a step closer but Mike moved sideways to block his path. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  I went to say okay, but he turned and headed out the front door before I had the chance.

  “Mike, what the hell is your problem?” I jerked away from him.

  “That guy is my problem.” He pointed to the front door.

  “You already said that; it explains nothing.”

  “What is he doing here?”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “Friends don’t force themselves on each other, Ara.” He aimed that finger toward the place I’d been standing with Eric.

  My world stopped, but everything around me moved, rolling forward as if I’d jumped on an invisible conveyer belt. “You saw that?”