“I get it,” I said, forcing the tears away. “But I wanna help you get through this. I wanna be here for you.”
“I don’t think you can help me. Nobody can.” He began that awkward, uncomfortable shifting of his weight again. “I…I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry for…everything.” He stepped around me and headed toward his truck. Part of me wanted to let him go, let him deal with things in his own way. The other part—the stronger part—said to hell with that, and bounded after him.
“Chance,” I said, once I caught up to him. “Please.” He stopped walking and turned around. “Let me help you. Tell me what I can do.”
“Can you bring my mom back?” It was like a slap in the face, and it hurt.
His mom.
Of course she would be top priority. His mom was murdered (again, because of me) and now it was killing him. Here I had been thinking only of myself for the past month, and whether or not I was on his mind half as often as he was on mine. Not once did I even consider what losing his mother must have been doing to him. I was awful.
“I wish I could.” The lamest answer, but it was all I had.
“Told you you couldn’t help me.” He turned and walked away again, and again I followed. He tossed his backpack into the open window of his truck before opening the door and climbing inside.
“Maybe I can,” I said, placing my hands on the door between us. I wanted desperately to climb into the truck with him and pretend that none of the past month had ever happened, that he was still human and we were in love as we should have been, and our real life was about to begin.
“How?”
I stared deep into the now-altered jade of his eyes. “I can help you say goodbye to her.” This time, it was Chance who looked as though he had been slapped in the face. He stared out the windshield of his truck, clenching and unclenching his jaw. I could feel the tension and anger and sadness emanating from him, even if it was no longer a physical effect. “I can take you to see her. Her grave, I mean. If you want me to.” I must admit that it was a bit morbid discussing his mom in such a cavalier way, and I resisted the urge to shudder away the creepiness digging into my shoulders, refusing to let Chance see my pain when he had so much of his own.
It felt like an eternity before he finally spoke. “Okay.” His face looked worn, ragged. Saying okay meant that he had to accept his mother’s death—something I knew he would never do. “But not today,” he went on. “I can’t today. I need time.”
“Okay,” I said, relieved that at least he was letting me back in—however macabre the means. “How about Friday? After school?” It was a week away, so I hoped it would be enough time for him to come to terms with what this trip would mean.
“Friday’s good.” He started his truck before finally looking over at me. “See ya.” He backed out of the parking space and sped away, leaving me standing alone in the snow.
The rest of the week came and went—with very little contact between Chance and me, which made me physically ill, so I was grateful that Kayla kept me busy with organizing her dad’s files and trying to pinpoint where he may have gone off the grid—and Friday was here before I realized. All day, Chance seemed different somehow. He was more aware of things, like he was sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting for someone to come and pull the chair out from under him. During gym class, he didn’t participate in the touch football game I had gotten so used to watching him in, not that he had done much of anything sports-related all week. Instead, he sat on the bleachers with his nose in a book. The only interaction I saw him have with anyone other than the fictional characters he was reading about was when Lacey sauntered over to him and planted her fake self right up against him. Though jealousy had all but replaced the half-dead blood running through my veins, I smiled a little when she pulled away, obviously chilled by his now-icy skin. I tried to look inconspicuous as I watched the two of them, Lacey turning on her signature sleazy charm, Chance doing his best to fend off her come-ons while simultaneously trying to keep from sinking his fangs into her neck. After nearly two minutes, my stomach couldn’t take it anymore and I stormed over to them.
“Hi Lacey!” I did my best imitation bubbly voice, trying to sound like I gave a crap about her.
“Hi.” She glared up at me, her eyes shooting venomous darts in my direction. I deflected as best I could and kept a large, overzealous smile smeared across my face. After a few seconds, she slowly stood. “So, you two are back together?”
I sidestepped around her and took the seat she vacated; for good measure, I linked my arm with Chance’s. “We were never apart,” I said, again with a fake smile. I only prayed that Chance didn’t pull away—at least not until Lacey had moved on to available prey.
“Yeah. Whatever.” She flashed her own fake smile—which was way more devilish than mine—and turned her attention to Chance. “I’m here if you need me.” A quick hand on his bare knee (which I had totally ignored, but now that she pointed it out, I kept staring at his exposed arms and legs) and a real smile, and she was bouncing off to join the Laceybots across the gym floor.
I swallowed back the nausea. “Did you tell her?” I reluctantly pulled my arm from his.
“Tell her what? ‘Hey Lacey. I can’t stand seeing your face, but your neck’s looking pretty tasty right about now. Can I have a bite?’” He dog-eared a page in his book and tossed it on the bench before running a hand through his dark, curly hair in frustration. As always, the curls fell back into place, and my heart broke a little bit more. “No, I didn’t tell her. She’s just upset about my mom.”
“Sure she is.” The words escaped before I could stop them, and I immediately regretted them.
“You don’t think she is? You don’t think other people actually care?”
I didn’t care too much for New Chance.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sure she cares. I just don’t think that’s the only reason she came over here.”
“So you think that nobody can actually care about me just for me, is that what you mean?”
Yeah. Definitely not liking him right now.
“Of course not.” I took a deep breath, praying I wouldn’t say something that would make things even worse. I tried to remember that I was just as on-edge as he was when I first woke up in that coffin. “That’s not what I meant at all. I just—”
“It doesn’t matter,” he blurted as the bell to go home sounded. “Are we going or what?” He walked away from me and toward the exit, his frustration practically leaving a visible pattern in his wake. I slowly got up and followed. I knew that his angry attitude was partly because he was a vampire now, and partly because he missed his mom and was mad at the world because he couldn’t be there when she needed him. He had told me that, as a Healer, it was his job to save people—especially from vampires. Not being able to protect the most important person in his life had to cause unimaginable pain. I just hated that I was the one who was taking the brunt of his rage—though I totally deserved it.
The drive out to the cemetery was the first time Chance and I had been alone in a really long time, only now, he practically hated the sight of me, so barely two words were spoken the entire trip. Thankfully it was only a few miles outside of town, so a half hour of silence wasn’t the end of the world.
We turned onto a tiny side road and parked where the asphalt met orange dirt. We climbed out and crossed the threshold into the cemetery, and I couldn’t help but think that we both should have burst into flames or something, being undead and all. But instead, more silence hung between us as I stepped in front of him and led the way to the back. Darkness hung on everything, casting shadows across neglected headstones resting lonely beneath towering oak trees. I was mindful of where I stepped, remembering what Kayla had told me when we came to the funeral, that stepping on someone’s grave was bad luck. Definitely didn’t need any more of that, thanks.
I had only been to the cemetery once since her death, but I found Ms. Caldon’s grave rather quickly. I stepped to the side and into the shadows once we got there so Chance could have a moment, but he wouldn’t move from where he stood—which was several yards away from his mom. The tiny, shattered shards of my heart burst into even smaller, more fragile pieces at seeing him broken and beaten down. I would have given my life to save him.
“Are you okay?” I finally asked, my voice carrying on the bitter wind. Other than the scratchy rustle of naked trees, it was the only sound not buried beneath the whirl of the wind. Chance didn’t answer, but slowly stepped toward his mom’s grave, quietly dropping to his knees in front of her headstone.
“Mom?” His voice was cracked and laden with pain, I’m sure a mirror of his heart. I held back tears as he talked to her. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you. I’m sorry I let this happen. I know you thought that me being a Healer was wrong, that it would lead to no good.” A long pause, his head hung down, then, “I guess you were right, Mom. I failed you.” He stopped talking, simply staring at her name etched into the stone, his hands gripped tightly together. His body was shaking, seemingly from the cold, but I knew that wasn’t it.
He was crying.
“I miss you so much, Mom. I wish I could go back and fix this. I wish I could save you. I wish none of this ever happened. I’m…so…sorry.” His tears were free-flowing now, streaking his face. I could almost reach out and touch his pain it was so present, so real. I moved next to him and slowly placed my hand on his shoulder, thankful he didn’t pull away. “I have to go now, Mom,” he went on. “I love you. And I promise you that I will make him pay for doing this to you. I won’t stop until he’s dead.” His emphasis on that last word scared me; I knew all too well that he would make that promise to his mom come true. I held my breath as he leaned forward and touched her headstone one last time before standing up. I moved my hand from his shoulder as he did, using it to wipe the tears from my face before he noticed them. He stepped away from her grave and over to the wooded area directly behind it, keeping his back to me the entire time. I knew he was still crying, that he was boiling over with emotion, and I wanted nothing more than to help him through.
“Chance?” I watched his shoulders rise and fall, his head tilted up toward the swaying trees. A frigid wind curled around me, and even though I wasn’t cold, I shivered. “Are you ready to go?”
“Not yet,” he said, finally turning to face me. Even several feet away, and in the hazy dark of the cemetery, I could see the pain on his face. “I can’t leave yet.” He lowered his head and just stood there, motionless. My heart went out to him as I’m sure waves of anger and rage and guilt swallowed him from the inside out. And there was nothing I could do to help him, no way for me to take that pain away. I was useless.
“You want me to leave you alone?” I asked, sort of hoping he would say yes so I wouldn’t have to stand on the sidelines of his emotional torture.
“I meant what I said. I’m gonna kill Sebastian.” His head was still down, his eyes staring in the direction of his mom’s grave. I didn’t know if he was talking to me, or to her.
“I’ll help you.”
That got his attention. His eyes met mine, and I knew in that moment that he still felt something for me. I could see it, hidden behind his overwhelming grief. “I want him to pay just as much as you do.”
The corner of his mouth raised just a bit, into a sort of half smile, half frown. “You don’t have to say that, Ava. I’ll be okay.”
“I’m not just saying it. I mean it.” And I did. I had no intention of letting Sebastian get away with what he had done. He killed Chance’s mom. He stole Chance’s humanity (well, technically Aldric did, but it was Sebastian’s fault). He would pay.
“I’m sorry for not calling you.” He moved across the cemetery toward me, the wind lifting and dropping the dark curls framing his face. “I was mad at you.”
“Don’t apologize to me. I should be apologizing to you. I—”
“No.” He was standing inches from me now, his eyes locked onto my face. “I told you, stop apologizing.”
“But what happened that night—”
“Wasn’t. Your. Fault.” His hand touched my face, soft and cold and way too brief; less than a second, then it was gone. “It was his.”
Sebastian.
Chance blamed Sebastian.
Not me.
I should have felt better hearing him say that he didn’t hold me responsible, but something deep inside was warning me that his words weren’t entirely true. He still blamed me, even if he didn’t admit—or know—it.
“Are we gonna be okay?” It was the question I had been dreading to ask, fearful of what his answer might be. If he said yes, then I would finally be able to breathe again. If no, I would have to find a way to move on—eventually.
But he said neither. “I don’t know.” The one answer I hadn’t been expecting. The one I had no clue how to respond to, to move on from. I felt trapped.
“That’s fair, I guess.”
“It’s honest.” His voice was soft again, more like Human Chance. “That’s the best I got right now.”
“I’ll take it.” I tried to smile, to convince him and myself that I was okay. The truth was, it felt like I had been stabbed through the heart by an “I Don’t Know” arrow. At least he smiled back at me, though somewhat forced, so it couldn’t be all bad. “Ready to go?” Chance ignored me, his eyes going wild in their sockets, darting back and forth over the cemetery behind me. I spun around and caught a huge whiff of the nauseating odor.
“You smell that?” he asked, his voice almost guttural, primal.
“Yeah.” The putrid scent was growing stronger, invading my nostrils, making my eyes water and my gums ache.
“Get behind me.” Before I could utter a response—which would’ve been “Hell No!”—Chance yanked my arm and my body practically flew behind him. I barely had time to turn around before a mad-as-hell vampire shot out of the woods across the cemetery, headed straight for us.
MONSTER WITHIN
Stay here.” Chance turned to me, eyes golden and wild, fangs dripping venom and ready to strike. The image slapped me in the face, fast and stinging; he was a vampire, no more trying to deny it. I watched as he flashed toward the oncoming vampire, his body moving at super speed—maybe even faster than mine. The impact shook the ground, his raw power sending chills scurrying over my skin. I could do nothing but stand and stare as the two undead teens spun each other in a macabre dance of brute force and rage, each tossed like trash by the other.
Chance seemed to have the upper hand, pinning the girl vampire to the ground and lunging for her neck with his fangs. But she was quick—and seemingly stronger—to throw her defenses, chucking him into a nearby headstone, the granite slab snapping in half with ease. Chance lay motionless for a moment, and I almost shot out after him, but the vampire had other plans: me. She turned her beady, rabid eyes on me, her twig-like frame crouched and shaking. She was mad, and I was going to be her release.
She charged me full-on, and I barely had time to brace myself before her undead body slammed into me like a bullet. We both flew backward and into a large oak tree, the impact shocking my senses. Shards of light pierced my vision, and the cemetery spun out of control. I crumpled to the ground beneath the vampire, who clearly hadn’t even felt it; she was still standing. In that moment, I hated my half-human side.
“He doesn’t want to be found,” she spat, her words piling up inside my thrumming head. “Leave us alone, little girl. We’re stronger than you. Don’t make us prove it.”
He? Who’s ‘he’? And who’s us?
I had absolutely no idea who she was talking about, but whoever this “he” was was the least of my concerns. I could feel her cold fingers as they slid around my neck, her rank breath on my face.
I clenched my muscles, just waiting for her fangs to open a vein, for death to finally find me. But nothing happened. She released her grip on my neck and stood over me. I slowly opened my eyes, the cool twilight of the night subduing the blinding pain. My head pounded with a fury, and darkness crept into my peripheral vision. I slid my body against the tree and sat upright. Vampire girl crouched down in my face again. “Did you hear me?”
“Doesn’t wanna be found. Leave you alone. Got it.” Sarcasm? Check.
“Next time we meet, one of us is dead.”
“Aren’t we both dead?” I could be a real smartass sometimes.
She smirked before sprinting away, her body gliding through the low fog with supernatural ease. I somehow managed to stand, though I immediately regretted it. My head felt like someone had sliced it open and scrambled what was inside. I turned around and glared at the towering oak behind me, wanting so badly to report it to the Tree Police for assault. I carefully crossed the cemetery to where Chance was moaning, my body fighting me every step of the way; vampire girl’s agility had nothing on me. Just as I made it to him, Chance sat up, nearly yelling out in pain. I knelt beside him and offered to help him up.
“I’m fine,” he said. He stood, taking almost as long as it took me, then did something I hadn’t been expecting: he helped me up. Once I was standing on my own—which took a minute—he dropped my hand like a bad habit. “Where’d she go?” His eyes were searching the cemetery again.
“Through the woods, over there.” I pointed in the general direction where she’d escaped, almost hoping she was standing there watching us. I wanted nothing more than to rip her head from her body and drain her blood. Hello, Vampire Ava. Obsess much?
“You stay here.” A stern look—with a tiny bit of concern thrown in—and Chance was jogging over to the woods. Any other time, I would have been ticked that he had the nerve to tell me what to do—I mean, didn’t he know me?—but I stayed put and watched, impressed, as he scoped the area like a detective; looking for what, I had no idea. I assumed maybe a clue left behind by the vampire as to who she was. It was all very Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? (yep, still had those TV references on speed dial). I guess I was undead Velma. Hooray for me.
Blood Awakening (Blood Prophecy Trilogy) Page 7