by Sara K
His expression changed unexpectedly. "It is all I can do." There was sympathy in his voice. Perhaps regret.
"For the last time, Michael" she pleaded. "Don’t touch me. I can't stand you putting your hands on me after what you've done. You’ve changed so much, I hardly recognise you."
Another soft laugh and another hand pressed against her back. "I can do as I wish. I can take you here in this alley and wipe the traces of your past experiences. It will surely be a pleasure memorable. And you…" he lips kissed along her jaw ignoring her protests. "Will remember only my pleasure and memory of lovemaking." To show what he meant, his body pressed against hers tightly causing a soft cry of alarm.
Clara sucked in few breathes, lifted her chin and regarded him coolly. "You won't rape me?"
"I am capable of anything. I have killed countless times. I am living in two worlds which are about to collide." His gaze returned to hers. "But I will never give you torture or rape. I would meet the sun than brutalise you." Michael's face was taunted with painful reminders and memories. She wondered whether he was remembering what she was remembering.
She pressed him further." It's happened before."
"Enough! I have never abused a woman or forced her. You, being my woman I cannot give you such treatment. I never will." Even as he made his promises his heart tore into two and guilt settled in.
"What happened to you, Michael?" Clara said warily. "You've changed this evening. Here I was thinking that maybe we could have a chance. I was ready to accept you, to spend my life with you. This evening, I had a little hope, which I've never had before. You've ruined it all by neglecting my feelings and murdering Dean… and how could I forgive you for that and pretend it's never happened." Her tearful eyes met his dark ones.
"Clara…"
"Don't! I can't live with you. My heart doesn’t accept you like before. I feel … I feel cheated and lied to." She sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I don’t want anything to do with you. Few hours ago I was ready to start our new lives. Now…" she stared at him forlornly. "You've shattered that idea."
She didn’t expect him to turn away from her and walk several feet away. She didn’t know whether the walking away hurt more than the actual betrayal. Clara stared up at the dark sky, feeling the depression press down on her. She wouldn’t stay with him. Shivering at the cold air that swept past her she glanced at Michael who had his back towards her.
He was no longer holding her hostage. Seeing that as a good sign, Clara ran through the dark alley as fast as her legs could carry her.
Chapter 22: The FIGHT
Her footsteps echoed across the paved street as she flew past the houses and the parked cars. Her breath hitched, came out as loud gasps. She continued running. To where she didn’t know. Anywhere but here. Her legs ached and her stomach knotted painfully. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she ignored her physical pain and sank into her emotional pain. It was better that way. Physical pain would slow her down, whereas if she focused on her emotional baggage it would push her into escaping.
The night air whipped her face; the night cloaked her into its never-ending darkness. Closing her eyes she breathed in and out. Taking in slow deep breaths. She gasped when she collided with something hard and almost stumbled with exhaustion. Arms held her up. Surrounded her. She glanced up into Michael's calm but severe expression.
She tried to kick him but missed. "NO! NO! Let … me…go." she gritted her teeth and launched another kick at his chins but he dissolved and appeared behind her. She wanted to tear him into pieces.
"This is pointless, Clara. Come with me."
"Never!" she spat out.
"You belong to me. Did you think I would let you go easily? You can fight me but you cannot win." Michael's gaze took in her wet face, the panting and the torment in her eyes. She was near breaking point; this was the result of his actions he thought bitterly. He would be damned if he hurt her again? He had pushed her further away again and again. The first time an ocean rested between them. Now his own actions and inadequacy built a wall between them. His guilt was endless.
"Go to hell, Michael." She snapped tiredly. "I hate you." she ran from him again and he followed in pursuit, like a cat after a mouse. She was the mouse he was desperate for. He hungered for her. Wanted he. He knew the cat and mouse game was meaningless. He could already feel her physical difficulties very clearly. Her legs were slowing her down and every step was difficult, she was tired, hungry and afraid. She ran as if her life no longer existed, as though she didn’t belong in this time and space. Most importantly she ran from him. Her head was jumbled and confused and her heart was in hard labour, ready to give out. He felt pain rip through his chest. No not his hers. A sudden fear clouded over him. He had to stop her before she did greater damage to herself. Because of him she was hurting herself, pushing herself away from him. No matter what the cost.
He reached for her turbulent mind. Sweetheart, stop. You do not need to run away from me.
Beg all you want, Michael. But don’t EVER expect me to listen to your pleas.
Her voice came out as breathless and strong. Michael absorbed her last statement. It was the truth.
Clara sobbed as she ran into him again. He seemed to appear right in front of her. His arms immediately surrounded her whilst her face rested against his chest. She shrieked loudly "Let me go! I hate you!"
"You cannot keep this up." He told her solemnly, grabbing her by the arm.
She kicked him. Missed. Kicked him again. Missed. Giving up in frustration she struggled in his arms. "You don’t have a hold over me. Not anymore."
"Our destiny is intertwined together. Until death breaks the bonds."
"That's probably what we need." She tore her arm away only to be caught at the waist. "You're hurting me. Let me go."
His arms around her waist tightened. "Not as much as you're hurting yourself. Come home with me."
"I'm not going anywhere. Leave me alone."
"Stubborn woman!" He scolded loudly, he pressed her against the tree trunk, and using his lower body he held her in place whilst bringing both her hands over her head and holding them still. Terror and fear crossed her pale face. So this is what he wanted, she acknowledged as her back pressed against the hard tree trunk.
"Fine." She said after a moment. “Do it fast and get on with it." She wasn’t scared of him. She'd let him have what he wanted and perhaps he will be satisfied to leave her alone. He was angry. His lips were pressed together grimly, his eyes flashed like black coal. Suddenly she felt the heat, the desire, the passion, the anger washing over her. In a second he could do that to her, awake dormant feelings and desires. One large, muscular hand touched her hip and trailed up her side, skirting the outside of her breast until it closed over her chin. He forced her eyes to meet his, capturing her gaze and holding it as surely as he held her feet in place. His thighs tightened, and he surrounded her, held her caged and confined and unable to escape.
He stared into her eyes, his thumb smoothing the skin of her vulnerable throat while his other hand began to rub between her thighs with firm, steady pressure. He inhaled deeply breathing her in. Every emotion and feeling she was experiencing reached into him. He sensed her confusion and fear of what he would do. He kept his promise. He wouldn’t take her here when she was feeling so venerable and in despair. Importantly she wasn’t ready to accept him. Cursing under his breath he caught her trembling lips and kissed her with a furious passion and burning longing which caused his body to melt into hers. She cried out, thrashing her head against the tree to ward off his ravenous mouth.
He tore his mouth of hers rapidly. "Do not do this. I have no control."
Her stare was bitter and cynical. "You shouldn’t have done that."
She waited for him to say more. But words weren’t needed. His expression was like an open book. "You did this tonight, Michael." She accused. "Do you even know what you put me through? When you went to fight that vampire, all kinds of thoughts were going through
my head. I didn’t even know whether you would be back”. She frowned. “I felt grieved and lonely. My heart told me you wouldn’t come back. The feelings and thoughts were so strange that I called for you."
Please, come back to me. I'm going crazy. Please, Michael I don’t know what's happening to me instantly he remembered her call, his eyes drifted across her face. What she had experienced was a side effect of being away from their mate.
"I remember the affection I felt for you," she continued. "The worry about your safety. After what you did I don’t think those feelings would resurface."
How could she have been so naïve to put her trust in him? Men always hurt the women in the end. That's what he had done to her. A few soft words and she were ready to give her heart to him. You're an idiot, Clara.
He released her and she took off again, obviously expecting him to follow her. A cold rush off air swept her up and something sharp caught her arm, causing her to halt. She noticed two things, firstly whomever she bumped into was not Michael as her captors grip was harsh and she smelt the stench of evil. Secondly, she heard Michael's voice behind her. She lifted her head to see the most horrible face. Sharp fangs lengthened from the vampire's mouth, he wore black cloak, the face was pale and long, and his eyes were red. He wore a sneer on his face of satisfactory.
The long fingernails dug into her upper arm. Clara cried out in pain and turned her face helplessly towards Michael who stood tall and wide behind her.
"Release her, Vampire. I will make your death bearable."
The Vampire giggled and looked down at Clara. "Ah, I have finally caught your woman. A lovely little thing isn’t she. I would take great pleasure in drinking her dry." The sneer returned and Clara felt sick.
Michael watched the Vampire carefully. Saw the way his long fingers were curled around Clara’s arms. He was hurting her. Michael knew. The realisation angered him, made him desperate for the kill. For Clara he got himself under control. Michael's gaze flickered to her who slumped in the Vampire's arms with her eyes closed.
Clara, sweetheart. Look at me. Do not be frightened. He kept his voice as cool as possible.
I feel so… sick she answered him quietly.
"Release her, now." Michael commanded.
"Ah but the mortal is lovely toy." The vampire smirked. "Shea will be pleased to see her. She's been expecting her. I will get my reward for finding her." the Vampire raked his fingers slowly down Clara’s neck. "I could drink her right, here. Immortal one. For my princess I am willing to let your woman live a little longer."
"You know the penalty is death if you harm what is mine. Even for touching her I will rip out your throat."
"Such anger." The vampire mocked. "My princess will win. Immortal one. You have lost. Your woman will die. Nothing will please my princess"
Michael took another step closer "This is between you and I, Vampire. Put her on the ground and let us fight."
The vampire was lost in thought. Michael's gaze flickered back to Clara who lay motionless in the Vampire's arms. She was unconscious. He could wait no longer.
"I won't be fooled by you. Your woman is what I came for."
"So be it." Michael formed a fireball in his hand. The thought of the Vampire using Clara as a shield formed in his mind. It was a strong possibility. He had to be careful.
The Vampire laughed. "Foolish idea."
Michael attacked so fast that the Vampire dropped Clara to the ground as the fireball went through his heart and set him on fire. Michael lunged forward at the vampire, throwing him further back, away from Clara. The Vampire snarled. "Give her back."
Another fire ball attacked him and the vampire shrieked out.
Clara came to conscious and found herself on the ground. She groaned at the pain in her arms and turned her face towards the fight. The vampire was on fire, with one last attack the Vampire exploded into a pile of dust. She held her breath as Michael came towards her. She didn’t speak; the emotional baggage was too much. Tonight she had witnessed events that would give her nightmares. Dean's death was so fresh in her mind; the image of his neck snapping would never leave her neither would the image of the vampire on fire.
Silently, wordlessly she allowed Michael to carry her home.
Clara scrubbed her body clean as she stood underneath the showerhead. She never wanted to feel those vampire's hands on hers. She retreated into her room in a robe wrapped around herself. Michael stood by the window with his back to her. She stopped immediately and stared at his back. What was he thinking? She signed, best not to go there.
Ignoring him as best as she could she slipped into bed and crawled to the furthest corner, pulling the duvet over herself. The nightmares would come tonight. They were inevitable. Maybe she should stay awake until the morning, and then she could have a nap. Whatever technique she used the nightmares would surface as soon as she closed her eyes.
Michael turned towards the bed, where she lay curled into a little ball. His eyes skimmed over her not that he can see much with the duvet around her. But he easily caught sight of the white robe. She didn’t even dress for bed but crawled in. On the way home she had been silent, not uttering a single word. His protective instinct took over and he worried greatly for her, even now with her lying on her bed he worried for her, he knew she wasn’t asleep but thinking. He had slipped into her mind before and found complete confusion and despair.
She worried about the power he had over her. She feared his strength and hated him for his actions tonight. She didn’t think anything positive about him. For that he was neither relieved nor angry. His own guilt ate at him. In jealousy he killed Dean, a mortal and Clara had witnessed that. He killed Dean with pleasure and without a doubt. He had ignored Clara’s cries to not hurt the mortal, which ultimately turned her on him. Tonight he had hurt Clara; no immortal male would ever do such a thing and not feel accountable and ashamed. He remembered the affection he had seen in her eyes, an hour later it was replaced with terror and hatred. He was no better than any other men who had mistreated her. Michael would never forget his cruelty nor would he forget her terrified and haunted eyes.
He walked slowly towards the bed. He should leave her alone. He was the last thing she needed. But his protective nature took over. He circled around the other side of the bed and sat down. As he expected her eyes were open, she stared straight-ahead.
"Talk to me." No reply. He tried again.
"If I brought you something to eat. Would you eat it?" he sensed her hunger although she continuously pushed it down.
Again she continued staring.
"My love is unconditional. It wouldn’t matter if you did not feel the same way. I am sorry what happened tonight. It proves that the venom inside me is growing and until you accept me the curse cannot be lifted. I never thought in all those centuries that I’d find my soul mate. Now that I found you I do not want to let you go. You have captured my heart; you have brought hope into my world. All I ask is for you to talk to me if not tonight, then tomorrow night. I will be waiting because I cannot bear this melancholy you have sunk into. Neither can I bear your tears. I know you are hurting. Come to me and I can help you. For me to help you, you must seek me out. Come to me. I want happiness for you, Clara." His hand reached out and stroked her hair tenderly. "You probably don’t like my touch at this minute. I understand. You do not know how much I want you, Clara. I want to kiss you senseless, I want to push the duvet away and open the white robe you are wearing. I want to touch and caress every part of your body." His eager eyes lifted to her face. She had closed her eyes within the last few seconds. "I want everything from you, Clara. Your heart, your soul and your body. Because you are mine. I can wait as long as it takes." Bending his head he kissed her temple. "Sweet dreams."
He waited for several minutes giving her enough time to talk to him, to open her eyes and look at him. When neither occurred he left the room. He needed to speak to Justin since he needed Cassie's help.
Chapter
23: The REPAIR
“So, how are things with you?" Cassie asked casually.
Clara shrugged as took a bite of the chocolate chip cookies. "Oh, you know the same as usual." She answered. They were both seated in Cassie's living room the next evening. After last night her day today went in a haze. She had stayed inside her room cooped up in her blanket watching TV and reading. The events of last night never quite left her mind.
"Are you sure?" Cassie said warily. "You look tired."
"Umm, I can't believe you baked these cookies yourself. They are delicious. I'm gonna come here every day."
Cassie gave her a long stare. "Clara."
"Oh, alright. If you insist. I went to sleep pretty late." She shouldn’t be so tired; she had little naps during the day. "And I stayed at home reading most of the time."
"Anything unusual happen last night" Cassie asked taking a sip of her milk.
"No."
"You're not telling me the truth. I thought we were friends." Cassie gave a small pout. Clara giggled.
"I don’t want to worry you."
Cassie rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. I'm not a time bomb that will go off when triggered by something unpleasant. I do like to listen to other people's problems – or the lack of them." Cassie was fully aware of the details of last night. Justin had informed her after meeting with Michael. Now she wanted Clara to confide in her.
"Let's just say a pleasant evening turned into a not-so pleasant one."
Cassie raised an eyebrow. "That's all you're going to wrap up for me."
"Yep." She ate some more cookies.
"I think I ought to take my homemade cookies away from you. They're a distraction to this conversation." Cassie looked serious.
Clara glared at her. "Don’t you dare?"
"Ok, so you're not gonna tell me about the friendly boy and the big bad vampire."