Tyler got a comb, started working it through the knots. “Bang time,” he said. He leaned down to get the scissors.
Maybe he grabbed them too hard, or perhaps they were just too sharp, but I smelled the blood before I heard him gasp.
I stared in the mirror, watching that dark red ring form in my eyes. “Get out of here! Now! I mean it! Go!”
Tyler made a run for it. Thank God he didn’t argue. I gripped the sink, fingers pressing hard against the marble. I tried to stop myself from going after him. But the smell of his blood was all over me—sweet, fresh, unbitten. It smelled better than I’d ever imagined. My mouth filled up with saliva, and over and over I swallowed it down. No! It’s Tyler! No! Nothing was helping. Tears built up in my eyes. I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t fight it. I just needed a taste, just one little taste. I closed my eyes, let go of the sink, and went after him in a whirl of motion.
Tyler stood by the sink in the kitchen. He was wrapping a Band-Aid around his index finger. I grabbed the frame in the doorjamb, dug my fingers into the wood. “What are you still doing in the house?” I screamed. Panic seized me. My stomach tightened. “You have to leave! Now! Get out of here!”
“Abby, you’re better than this! Fight it! Resist it!”
What was he doing? Why wouldn’t he leave? I couldn’t fight it. I couldn’t stop. My feet inched closer toward him. My grip loosened, fingernails scraping the doorframe, but it wasn’t enough to stop me. “I can’t control it! I can’t control myself! Ty, please!” I sounded like a crazy person. I was a crazy person.
He didn’t move. He still didn’t leave. He stood there, green eyes staring at me, holding his injured finger in the other hand. My tears burst into a full-blown waterworks show. Please God, don’t let me hurt him. I let go of the doorframe and rushed straight for him.
“Abby, I love you! Don’t be mad!” Tyler reached above the sink and pulled open the thick burgundy curtain. Rays of light burst through the tiny window. It felt like instant flames all over my body. I screamed, deep and loud, wailing like a banshee. Smoke seeped from my skin, burning, scorching. My fangs burst from my mouth with a growl, anger surging at me, but there was nothing I could do. The heat was too intense, burning all over. I flung back, retreated to the safety of the dark living room. Now I didn’t just want his blood, I wanted to hurt him for what he’d done. I held my arms out, looking down at them. The skin was peeling, oozing pussy blisters and sores. I looked like one of the lepers the Bible spoke of. I tried to take deep breaths, force myself to breathe, but the trickle of air coming in was nothing less than a joke. But this definitely wasn’t funny.
“Abby,” Tyler called out. “Are you okay?”
A growl built up deep in my throat, rolled off my tongue. “That wasn’t very smart.” I didn’t recognize my voice. It was evil, pure evil.
“I had to protect myself. You were coming after me.”
There were footsteps approaching the living room. “Don’t come any closer,” I hissed.
“Abby, I’m sorry.” His voice was closer. I swung around to see where he was, anxious, ready to jump at him again. He stood in the hallway, light from the kitchen glowing behind him. “Please. You’re better than this. Fight it. You’ve got to try.” He sounded choked up, like he was about to cry.
I shook my head, mortified by my behavior but completely helpless to it. I had got to get a grip, had to calm down. A cool sensation crawled up the back of my neck, onto my head. Tingles raced up and down my skin like tiny ants. Chills flushed my face as if I were standing in front of an open freezer. I looked down at my arms again. They were already healing. The open sores were sealing up, the blisters disappearing beneath the surface. My whole body relaxed. My thirst for blood wasn’t as strong as before. I could resist it now. Didn’t have to have it anymore. My ability to heal must be offsetting the blood craving. Oh my God, what kind of monster was I? I shook my head. “Ty! I’m sorry! Are you okay?”
“Y-Yes. I’m okay! Are you?” He inched a little closer, his right foot entering the living room.
I held out my hand as if it were a stop sign. “Don’t you dare come closer to me. Not yet. I can still smell your blood.”
“What should I do?”
“You really need to leave and give that wound some time to heal before coming back.”
He nodded. “Okay.” He turned abruptly and left.
How could I have been so close to biting him? Did he hate me for this? I deserved it if he did. But he said he loved me. Damn it! He said he loved me right as I was about to bite him. God I hate being a vampire! Why can’t I control myself? His blood created a raging hunger that I was completely lost to. Could my attraction to him intensify my desire to drink from him?
I went back to the bathroom, the weight of my thoughts pressing hard in my skull. I let out a deep long sigh. It didn’t ease the pressure. I retrieved the scissors and carefully cut out some bangs. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed they looked okay, as good as bangs can look anyways. Most people I knew that had bangs always styled them to the side, in an effort to get them off their forehead. I’d most likely end up doing the same thing, as soon as I didn’t need to hide behind them anymore. I stared at the new me another moment, watching my face crumble and my eyes fill with tears. I shook my head and jerked it away from the mirror. I couldn’t look at myself any longer—I hated who looked back at me. I dropped down to the floor, wrapped my arms around my legs, and completely lost it.
It felt like I cried for hours. The tears dried to a flaky, sticky residue on my face. I rubbed my fingers under my eyes, across the tops of my cheeks, and then just held my face in my hands. My stomach was twisted in knots. My mouth was so parched I could barely swallow. My hands slid down my cheeks, rubbing up and down my neck. I needed some water. In a flash, I was standing over the sink, looking down into it, avoiding that damned mirror at all costs. I cupped my hands together, bowling up some of the running water. Then I lifted them up to my lips and gulped the cool, crisp beverage down, splashing it all over my face. It helped a little, but not as much as I’d thought it would. My knees buckled and I dropped back down to the ground, weak and pathetic. I pulled my legs against my chest, burying my face on top of my knees.
I picked up Tyler’s amazing scent. He was close, somewhere in the house. How did he slip in here without me noticing? I really was pathetic. A door slammed shut, his distant footsteps getting closer and closer. I opened my mouth, letting my tongue help me sense him. It was just him—no blood. He was all cleaned up. Regardless of that, I was still afraid to get too close, so I stayed frozen on the floor. I felt him standing in the doorway of the bathroom, his eyes on me like a second skin. But I was too humiliated to look up at him. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed my face deeper into my knees.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hey.” I sounded drowned out, muffled.
“Are you okay?”
I slowly turned my head to the side, looking up at him. “I don’t know.”
To my surprise, he smiled. “Come here.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Sure it is. No more blood. Promise.”
Hesitantly, I got up and walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around me like a warm winter blanket and pulled me against his chest. He held me tight. It was comforting, wonderful. I didn’t deserve it.
“I’m so sorry! I’m sorry!” I stammered, words rushing off my tongue faster than I could think them. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay.” He pressed me harder into him, almost crushing, but in a good way. “It was an accident. I should’ve been more careful.”
“What if another accident happens? I’m a monster! You’re not safe with me around!” Tears started welling up in my eyes again. Oh great. Just great.
“It’s no safer without you around.” He let go of me and stepped back. My arms fell to my sides. He cupped my face with both hands, staring down me, his eyes intent and solemn. “I’m not goin
g anywhere and neither are you, unless it’s together. I’m not losing you over a stupid cut on my finger.”
I shook my head. My shoulders slumped. “But I can’t control myself. I couldn’t stop…your blood. It smelled incredible. I’ve never smelled anything like it.” I cautiously gazed at his beautiful, perfect eyes, looking for a sign of fear, or resentment, or anything like that, but none of those emotions were there.
“Maybe that’s because you love me?” He leaned down, eyes blazing green fires, his lips creeping closer.
A fire ignited in my stomach and then started traveling up my spine. Goosebumps scattered over my arms. A chill crept up my face. My vision got blurry. My throat tightened. His breath was a warm gentle wind on my face, his mouth less than an inch away from mine. I licked my lips, tasting his closeness, then bit down hard on my bottom lip, tasting blood. I gasped, stepped back, freeing my face from his hands. “No,” I breathed. “We can’t do this.”
He stood there for an uncomfortable moment, the air tense and restless. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” He ran his fingers through his hair and then surveyed the bathroom. “I’ll get this cleaned up.”
“I can do that. It’s the least I can do after everything that’s happened.”
Since neither of us would obey the other’s offer, we cleaned the bathroom together, working in complete silence.
After it was sparkling clean and filled with the aroma of Lysol, he pointed to his bedroom and said, “I’ll bring you the new clothes. You can change in my room for privacy.” He looked down at the floor. “Unless, of course, you’d like to…”
“Your room is fine.” Nice try, wise guy.
A dresser, the same color as the wooden floors, stretched along the left wall, and a mirror hung on the back of a closet door. His bed was just a queen-size mattress lying directly on the floor. I sat on the edge of it until he came in with the brown paper bags. He set them on the floor by my feet and then left, closing the door behind him. The bags made crackling noises as I rummaged through them. I quickly decided on the worn jeans and stretchy black button-up shirt. In a flash, I was out of that baby doll dress and comfortably wearing the new outfit. I stood in front of the mirror, very satisfied with how everything looked. Even the new brown hair.
Later on in the day, since we still had some time to kill before nightfall, we used an empty dining room to practice a few basic defensive fighting moves. Tyler came to the table with some of his own experience, but we both quickly found that I was much better—and not only because I was a vampire. I taught some moves that could easily be done by a human, and I could tell he was pushing himself to succeed. Occasionally I’d use some of my incredible senses to escape his swinging fists or flying feet. Fortunately I barely felt it when he did land a blow. When Tyler reached the point of exhaustion, we ended our training session.
We returned to the living room, sitting on the sofa away from the windows. Tyler brought me up to speed on some research he’d done earlier while he was out. Since he had taken his laptop, he used the WiFi at Starbucks and researched some donor clubs outside of Georgia. He’d narrowed it down to Rayver’s Pub or ex-RAYNE, both located in Hilton Head, South Carolina. But since Tyler had not gotten anymore of his futuristic visions, we had absolutely no idea which club would be our safest bet. Unfortunately he couldn’t force his visions to happen, which meant there was a chance we’d have to make the choice on our own. Seemed like gambling to me, and I was never any good at that.
13
Predicament
RAYVER’S PUB WAS LOCATED IN an expansive, one-story building that stretched down an entire block. Several other businesses shared the space, but most of them didn’t look open for business. Tyler waited in the parking lot across the street, giving me a generous head start. We made a pact similar to our last one. He agreed reluctantly.
I cautiously looked around, not seeing anyone else on the streets, and then took the last few steps separating me from the donor club. The entry door was held open by a wooden barstool. My fingers brushed across the rotted doorjamb as I walked inside. Three square-shaped tables covered by white tablecloths, each with four chairs, were situated in the front. Beyond them was the bar. The wooden countertop was wide enough for six barstools, but only five of them were positioned there. Perhaps the sixth was participating as the doorstop this evening.
A woman sat on the left side of the bar, so I made a beeline for the right side. She looked over at me and smiled. Her shoulder-length blond hair was heavily streaked with dark lowlights, and she looked to be about my age. She wore a red-ribbed tank with a pair of skin-tight jeans. Her curvy thighs and butt overspread the seat. Her sun-kissed skin betrayed endless summer days at the beach. Since Hilton Head was a beach town, that wasn’t so surprising. It made me feel better knowing she was human since Tyler would soon be in here.
I smiled back at her and then sat down, leaving an empty seat between us. She looked away, stealing a few sips of her beer before returning to the magazine that previously held her attention. The bartender was an older man, fifty-something, slim, with thinning salt-and-pepper hair. His tan skin looked like a leather belt. I could sense he was not a donor. What in the heck was he doing working at a donor club? I swallowed hard, then gave him my drink order. He flashed me a smile and got busy with my request.
A couple minutes passed and then he handed over my drink. Then he turned around and headed toward the side of the bar. A hallway twisted out of sight behind it. That must have been where the VIP rooms were located. I coughed, pretending to clear my throat but really wanting to get his attention. It worked. He stopped at the edge of the doorway and looked back.
“Excuse me, sir,” I called out, “I kind of need your help with something.”
He took a few steps back my way. “What ken I help ya wit’, honey?” His voice was deep and raspy.
“Um, it’s um, kind of personal, could you come here?” I used a teeny weenie bit of my persuasion on him to be sure there would be no suspicious delay. It worked perfectly: he walked right up to me. The blond woman never looked up from her magazine.
He leaned down, face to face. “If der’s a way I ken help ya, I’m happy to do it. Just as long as it ain’t illegal or any utter kind of trouble.” I smelled whisky on his breath.
“No trouble,” I whispered, “I just need access to your back room, please.”
“Oh, well dat’s an easy one, honey. What’s yer name and I’ll let my boss know yer here? Oh and I’m Quinn.” A huge grin flashed across his face. All of his teeth were perfectly shaped and bright white. Not really what I’d expected.
“I’m Anna. I really appreciate your help, Quinn.” I smiled back.
“I’ll be back in a jiffy, Anna. Just wait right here.” He turned around and headed behind the bar.
I sensed Tyler behind me. Within seconds he was sitting down on my right, leaving a barstool in between us. He pretended to barely notice me, or the human girl beside me. He wore faded jeans and a long-sleeved, gray button-up shirt. His leg impatiently rocked back and forth.
There was movement and voices behind the bar. Then Quinn popped out, smiling, as he headed toward me. “I’ll be right wit ya, sir.” He politely motioned to Tyler and then looked at me. “Anna, my boss Stone said to meet him in duh back for dat meetin of ya’lls. I can take ya der now.”
“All right, great. Thanks.” I got up and followed him behind the bar without looking back. I could sense the anxiety spilling out of Tyler, and I hoped that he didn’t look suspicious to that human girl.
I was led through a small hallway illuminated by canned lights in the ceiling, and we quickly approached an oversized wooden door. Quinn knocked three times and then turned the handle. The door creaked as it opened. He walked inside. I stayed close behind him. The room was long and narrow, with black painted walls and old wooden floors. There were two black sofas in the front, sitting adjacent from each other. In the back of the room was a wide, rectangular-shaped table with s
ix chairs. There was a built-in cabinet with a sink just beyond that. The room reminded me of a studio apartment, but without the bed.
Stone sat on the right-hand sofa with his feet propped up on a small table in front of him. He was very good looking. So attractive, in fact, that you felt embarrassed for even looking at him. He was maybe five foot eleven, slender, brunette, with eyes like azure skies. He wore black boots, black jeans, and a tight long-sleeved, red cotton shirt, showing off his well-shaped body. His light brown hair hung just below his ears. It was trimmed short in the back, against his neck. He patted the cushion beside him. I walked over, very slowly, and then sat down. The door creaked. I looked back and Quinn was gone. I was alone with the vampire boss. Oh goody for me.
He groped me up and down with his eyes. “It’s nice to meet you, Anna. I’m Stone Rayver.”
“Hi, it’s very nice to meet you.” I reached out my hand.
He firmly grabbed it.
“Quinn will be back shortly with another round of whatever you were drinking. I hope you don’t mind having a drink with me before dinner.” He pulled my hand close to his mouth and then kissed the back of my palm.
“A drink sounds good.” I eyed him nervously.
He smiled, showing off his fangs. “I can sense you are anxious. And very young.”
I nodded, tugged my hand away. “I was transformed a month ago.” Butterflies started dancing in my stomach, and it wasn’t just from hunger.
“One month, huh?” He gently stroked my cheek. “You are a very beautiful woman. Where is the one who made you?”
“We, uh, decided to go our separate ways.” Part truth, part lie. I just hoped Stone couldn’t sense the lie part.
“How on Earth could your maker abandon such beauty? I cannot imagine what drove him or her to that decision.” He leaned in close to me and sniffed my neck. “Your human essence still lingers within you.” He reached down and grabbed my hand again. “May I?”
Crimson Groves Page 13