She rolled over, facing away from Kellin. She did not deserve for even a poor, blind dog to tolerate her presence. If she had the energy, she would have slid to the floor and left the bed to someone far more fitting of the comfort it provided, but she was drained. She prayed for forgiveness, doubting that God would even hear the prayers of one such as her. She did not deserve forgiveness, and she knew it. She did not deserve mercy. She changed her prayers from petitions of forgiveness to petitions for Ben's happiness and well-being.
Her mind registered the faint sounds of a violin. She knew that Evan must be in his own room, playing, and she felt her muscles relax. If Evan were playing his violin, he could not come in and kill her. She was safe until the music stopped, though she did not deserve to be safe. Her mind numb, her chest aching, she slipped into oblivion, hoping to never wake.
Є
“I'm finding life rather tedious at the moment. Since it's your fault I'm stuck here, the least you can do is entertain me.” Evan turned and left her doorway.
What to do now? Was she supposed to follow him? Should she? She was fairly certain that Paul had left, which made her even less eager to tangle with Evan. At the same time, he'd seemed very calm and she didn't want to raise his ire, either. Which path was least dangerous? Wiping her damp hands on the legs of her pants, she pushed herself up and hesitantly moved toward her doorway, half expecting Evan to leap out at her suddenly.
She peered around the door jamb, located Evan in the common living area, and hesitated once more. Why did he have to sit there and stare at her like that? Didn't he have the decency to look away when someone caught him staring? Apparently not. Trying to steel herself for whatever might happen, she moved out of her room and into the living room. She chose the chair furthest from him and sat, never taking her eyes off of him. He continued to stare at her, his face expressionless. I wish I could do that. He's always 100% in control. I wonder if that's a vampire thing?
She knew she was fidgeting, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. What does he want? Is he going to freak out and kill me? Or does he just want to see me twitch? Her gaze traveled around the room, though she always kept him in the periphery. There was much more to the room than she'd thought.
“Do my quarters meet your high standards?” She felt herself flinch away from the sound of his voice, then blush at the anger she felt at showing her weakness. She forced herself not to look at him, though she knew exactly where he was and what he was doing.
“It's a step above the prison cell, though being alone has its benefits, too.” Shocked at her own words, she couldn't help but look at him. Had she gone too far? Don't irritate him. You have no one to protect you and very little chance of defending yourself. Be like him. Quit feeling. Quit caring.
“Do you mean the one here at Westmarch, or the one we found you in?”
She tried not to let her hackles rise. “The one here.” Keep it cool. Don't sound ticked. “Isn't the definition of a prison where one is forced to stay against their will?”
He shrugged noncommittally. “I wouldn't think it mattered where you were when the same person kept you there both times.”
She snorted. “Funny, I didn't know you 'kept me' at the substation.”
He snorted right back, mocking her. “Funny, I didn't know you thought I cared enough to 'keep you' anywhere.”
She ground her teeth together to keep from snapping back at him, making herself look even more foolish. She waved a hand dismissively. “That's neither here nor there. What is it that you want of me?” Huh, talking like I'm from the 1800s makes me feel more calm, more in control. Is that one of his secrets?
“As I said, the tedium is getting to me. Even such poor company as yours is bound to be better than nothing. Watching you blush over your errors has already been most enjoyable. I can almost smell your blood when it happens.”
It felt as though fifty spiders were scurrying up her spine, but she forced herself to not shudder, pushing her back into the chair has hard as she could without being obvious. “Well, enjoy it while it lasts.”
“What? You expect to quit blushing?” His expression was far too innocent and she knew he was provoking her on purpose, though he was subtle about it.
She steadied herself once again. “No, I won't be here forever. You'll have to find other 'entertainment.'” Thinking of the titled woman who had been such a bane to her, who had even beaten her in front of a crowd, Integrity added, “Perhaps Jydda can ramble on for you? I'm sure she'd love any excuse to hear the sound of her own voice.”
Evan almost smiled. “Ah, but I very much doubt I could make Lady Jydda blush.” He put a slight stress on Jydda's title, as though reminding Integrity of her place.
“In that case, Lord Evan, I must point out that I highly doubt you could make anyone do much of anything.” You wanna be snotty? Two can play that game.
He leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtful. “Funny, it doesn't surprise me that you would say that. You were always much more...obedient under Ben's care.”
“What would you know about that?” She tried to sound uncaring, but she felt an iron fist seize around her heart.
“No, I don't suppose he would tell you.” Evan paused, and Integrity feared that he wouldn't continue. While brushing imaginary lint from his dress slacks, he said mellowly, “Ben was assigned to watch over you, back when you lived with the mortals. He studied your every move and reported back to the counsel on your progress.” Returning his gaze to her face once more, he said, “He was always so convinced that you were the one.”
She scoffed at him, but wasn't sure she did a convincing job of it. “Oh, sure,” she said, sarcasm painting her words, “Ben's the bad guy in all of this, huh? So, what else did my little stalker do? I love a good fairy tale.”
Evan's features suddenly hardened. “Oh, this is no fairy tale. But if you want a good story, one that will keep you awake at nights, I can provide that for you.” He leaned forward, intent for the first time, resting his elbows on his knees. “Do you remember,” he said, speaking slowly and softly now, “how your parents would always laugh at your need to close all of the curtains and blinds as soon as dusk fell? How they thought you paranoid, convinced that no one would have any reason to watch your insignificant little lives play out every night? Do you remember the feel of eyes on you, eyes that you could not see in the darkness? You had every reason to be afraid. You were being watched. Every night. Every day. All of the time.”
Feeling as though her very atoms were quivering, Integrity snorted again. “So, what, Ben's some creepy Santa Claus? He sees me when I'm asleep, when I'm awake, when I'm bad or good--”
Evan cut her off. “Ben studied you so closely, gave such glowing, detailed reports to the counsel, that I was sent to review your case.” He leaned back in his chair once more, less intense now. “Of course, I saw nothing of merit and labeled it a waste of time.” A sneer lifted one corner of his mouth. “But that didn't mean it had to be a total waste of time. We could still have fun with it all.”
Integrity wanted to curl up into a ball, try to protect herself from whatever was coming, but settled for folding her arms across her stomach and clenching her fists. His eyes flashed down to her arms and the sneer grew minutely; she knew he could see her tension increasing. “Ben convinced me to take you out”
He stopped. As the seconds ticked by, Integrity lost more and more control. She finally spat out, “Take me out?”
He looked satisfied that he could make her ask, that he could, in fact, control her, but he didn't say anything about it. “While we're strolling down memory lane, think back to the months before you were brought here. Think of the mornings that you woke up more tired than when you had gone to bed. Or the times you knew you'd taken your socks off, but in the morning you were wearing them. Or the unexplained grass stains on the knees of your pajamas.”
Integrity felt cold creeping over her, claiming more and more of her body. Though she wanted to pretend that it was al
l a coincidence, that his words were nothing more than educated guesses, each statement he made added another block to a wall that was growing far too tall to be ignored. After all, how many people find grass stains on their p.j.s?
Still trying to appear as though she didn't believe a word he was saying, she could nevertheless hear her voice weakening. “And why don't I remember any of this? You would think I'd remember leaving my house that many times.”
“That's where things get a little complicated. Suffice it to say that some of us have more...abilities than others.” Integrity was far from satisfied with his answer, but couldn't seem to open her mouth and speak again. His tone almost friendly now, he pressed on. “Oh, rest assured that you did come out with us, and frequently, too. Rest assured that there were many moments that made it worth our trouble.” A wry grin twisted his features. “But I digress. Perhaps you'd like to know how the grass stains came to be?” Integrity could only nod mutely. “As per usual, you were doting on Ben, following him around like a lost puppy, obeying his every whim. It being fairly early in our excursions, he decided to test the limit of your devotion. He asked you to step in front of an oncoming car.”
Whether it were purely imagination or something more, an image flashed in her mind. The night had been cold, mainly from the steady rain that was falling. The clouds must have been blocking out every vestige of light cast by the moon and stars, and the moisture caused fuzzy halos of light to surround street lamps and...the headlights. As quickly as it had come, the image was gone. She focused on Evan once more, feeling as though the floor had shifted several inches underneath the chair in which she sat. Evan continued, the wry smirk growing.
“Needless to say, you acquiesced with pathetic readiness.” He seemed lost in the memory for a moment, then said in an almost joyful voice, “You had every intention of letting that car hit you, never taking your gaze from your idol's face.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, we all make mistakes. I pulled you back from the path of the car, and you slid on the damp grass, thereby producing said grass stains.” He ended on a light note, showing how little he cared that he had obviously thrown her aside like a sack of rotten potatoes. She swallowed hard, feeling as though a rough stone were stuck in her throat. She watched him, barely breathing. He locked eyes with her. “We all make mistakes. If I'd known you'd be this much trouble, I would have let the car finish you that night.”
She blinked slowly, feeling as though she were standing on a high precipice and any unexpected movement could send her over the edge. Her thoughts tumbled, smashing into one another and breaking apart. She wanted desperately to say something witty, but she could not even form a complete sentence in her mind, let alone a good one. She felt herself falling into self-protection mode, throwing up walls that forced reality to stay back. It's not true. None of it's true. It doesn't matter that it makes perfect sense; none of it happened. He's lying.
Evan had obviously been watching the struggle play out across her face. She felt dazed as he leaned forward once more and said, almost softly, “But that's not the last time he tried to hurt you, and it's not the worst he's done. Not by a long shot.” She could see a smile lurking deep in his eyes, a cruel, vindictive smile that made her cringe. His eyes drifted to her forearm, and she tugged her sleeve down. “You know, it's not everyone that sports scars like you do. How many times did he cut you? How much did he enjoy it?”
His voice, almost a whisper, had leeched every bit of strength and resolve from her body. She could feel herself crumbling. Looking at her arm once more, he continued, “Why did you...” He allowed the words to trail off. The snick of the door opening snapped her back. Verifying only cursorily that Paul was entering, she turned her gaze back on Evan, letting the flames engulf her. “You know nothing. Ben would never hurt me. I hurt myself, to try to block the horrible things he told me—things you did.” She pushed herself to her feet and stared down at Evan. Keeping her voice steely, she said distinctly, “You are a pathetic man, filled with nothing but lies and deceit.” Not able to continue in her rant, she spun on her heel and forced herself to walk toward her room, finding the forward momentum hard to maintain when all she wanted to do was collapse. She heard a rushing in her ears that blocked out all else. She closed her door carefully behind her, automatically waiting for Kellin to find his way through. She had been completely unaware that he had followed her out in the first place.
She rubbed her forearm, distracted.
CHAPTER FIVE
Integrity had a difficult time trying to reconcile what Evan had told her with her own experience. She couldn't easily believe that Ben was the bad guy in all of this—or that Ben had even been aware of her existence before he'd stumbled across her in the bowels of Westmarch. Evan had been nothing but surly and rude, Ben nothing but kindness and concern. This had to be another of Evan's ploys to upset her.
Didn't it?
There were things that she couldn't explain, even to herself. Yes, it was possible for the average person to scale the sides of Westmarch, the mismatched stones providing ample hand- and footholds, but how many people would dare to do so, let alone repeatedly? And was it mere coincidence that Ben had been able to sneak her from Westmarch, escape from his own prison cell, and rescue her from the middle of nowhere when no one was supposed to know where she was? He'd had reasonable explanations for all of it. Stinking Evan, she grumbled in her mind. He would have to go and make me question everything I know, wouldn't he?
There was no hope for answers to her questions. She would rather die than ask Evan for more particulars, thereby alerting him that he had gotten to her, and she didn't trust Paul much more than she would a serial killer. That's all any of them are. Paul has no more respect for life than Evan. She snorted. I live in a colony of chronic murderers. Yee-haw.
When she heard the outer door shut, she didn't think much of it; Paul would come and go often. As long as something was routine, Kellin never made a peep, which meant he'd been almost completely silent since he had arrived. Integrity walked to her doorway, curious, and stuck her head out cautiously. When the dog started barking, she moved out of her room and to the entryway without conscious thought.
Bowman. The name seemed to pulse through her, her level of hope almost painful. She struggled to control herself. It can't be him. Her thoughts replayed that day in the hills, the group of menacing figures that had appeared from nowhere, her rescue, Ben.
She could still see him, his hair tousled by the wind that rushed past the jeep in which they rode. “Would you relax?” He had reached over and squeezed her hand, his smile reassuring and relaxed. “We took care of...what did you say his name was again?”
The memory of her fear for Bowman's safety washed over her anew. She'd asked Ben what he had meant. He had responded, “What does it matter? He was just a vampire.”
That “was” still sat in her stomach like a rock.
Bowman's dead. They killed him. He's gone, she told herself, even as she crossed the space to him. Almost afraid he would dissipate like steam, she reached to touch his face. Only then did the neck brace register in the forefront of her mind.
“Oh!” she gasped, pulling back hurriedly. “You're alive?” Movement registered in her peripheral vision, and she stepped back from Bowman, forcing her mask of unconcern back into place.
His jaw clenched, Bowman bowed toward her, bending at the waist. “Miss,” he grumbled. She felt the smallest flicker of light inside, knowing that her concern had pleased the normally stern and withdrawn guard.
She shifted her weight to her left foot, then to her right, torn. With Evan and Paul watching, she thought she should turn and go to her room as though nothing momentous had happened, but she couldn't quite bring herself to do it. What if this was all a dream, or some perverted trick? She didn't want to let Bowman out of her sight; although she now saw vampires for their true nature, she had thought Bowman dead and had never adjusted her thought patterns about him. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and it felt a
s though Evan were drawing nearer and nearer, his presence smothering her, though she knew he wasn't actually moving. Panic building in her chest, she reached out and grabbed Bowman's forearm and started pulling him toward her room, turning away from the other two men. Knowing she must appear strange, she said in a falsely light voice, “We've gotta talk.” Her ears strained to pick up any sound of pursuit.
She pulled the large man through her doorway, then shut the door quickly behind him. Now what? She never planned ahead for anything, and this was as far as she had thought. Now what should she do? She had a vampire locked in her room, a vampire that was supposed to be dead, well, more dead, a vampire that had only her to thank for whatever injuries he had incurred. She stood, awkwardly swinging her hands at her sides. Finally, she gestured at the lone chair in the room. “You wanna sit down?”
Bowman hesitated, then sat heavily in the armchair, sitting ramrod straight with his hands placed precisely on each of his knees. He did not speak.
“So, um,” Integrity stalled, walking slowly to her bed and sitting on the edge, “how have you been?” Stupid! She wanted to hit herself in the head. When he didn't speak, she pressed on, “Well, obviously not too well. But considering the alternative...” She laughed piercingly, cut the sound abruptly short.
“The alternative?” Bowman looked at her for a moment, then turned his gaze studiously to the far wall.
“Well, you know, being dead and all.” Okay, he's ticked. That's natural. But he can't kill me too easily if he's not looking at me. Right?
A strange noise erupted from between his lips. Only when he looked at her and she caught the mirth in the depths of his eyes did she realize it was a snort. “Dead? I've already been down that road, missy. It's a bit late to worry about that.”
Evan: Book Two of the Destine Series Page 4