by Myers, J. L.
“Amelia,” Ty spoke, his voice laced with growing strain. “Tell me what’s wrong. You can tell me anything.”
With a deep, lung-aching breath, I blurted out the puzzling feelings blurring my emotions. “I just don’t know what our future holds.”
“Are you having second thoughts already?” Ty joked, though there was an underlying edge to his tone.
“I’m being serious, Ty.” My sharp words surprised me, but I couldn’t control it. There was just so much standing in our way. “How can we stay together? We’re so different.”
“Amelia, I don’t understand. What we have between us is more than what we are.” A ragged breath blew through my ear. “Don’t you still feel the same?”
A growing ache to be near Ty surged through me, to see his face and those eyes that glowed with a love I never wanted to live without. In the same moment, growing uncertainty muddled that want. One day I would have to say goodbye, forever. I threw the other half of the biscuit into my mouth and spoke around it. “I just can’t bear to watch you die, to lose you forever.”
Ty sighed, a long, drawn-our breath. “Amelia, I am not dying. And you could never lose…”
“But one day you will!” I screamed, spitting crumbs. “You’ll grow old and frail, and you’ll die. How am I supposed to go on after that?”
I fell back against the soft, turquoise pillows on my bed, fighting the urge to hyperventilate. Tears stung my eyes. A pause of silence raised my heartbeat with trepidation.
At last Ty responded. “So, you’re afraid you won’t love me when I’m old and gray and you’re still young and beautiful?” He sounded wounded at the thought.
Aware that I was hurting him, I pinned my eyes shut. It was undeniable that my feelings for Ty ran much deeper than his physical attributes. I knew his age and appearance would never diminish my love for him. “No, that’s not it.” Icy tears spilled down my cheeks. My voice rose with frustration. “I just don’t know how I can go on without you. How could I live on after that?”
“Amelia, we have decades before we need to worry about that.” Ty’s now level voice was reassuring. “All that matters now is that you still feel as strongly for me as I do for you. You are the most important person in this world to me. If I have to fight till the day I die to be with you, I will. We can make it through this separation if you just hold on to what we share.”
My heart thudded in my chest. Of course I still loved Ty, more than anything. There was nothing I wanted more than to be with him. So why couldn’t I rid this growing self-doubt from my mind? “You’re right. I know you are.” I pulled into a sitting position, pushing stray hairs from my face. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Feeling better?” Ty asked.
“Yeah, I think so.” I sighed. My heart rate had slowed but the muscle felt raw and battered. I miss you so much. “When can I see you again?”
Silence rang in my ears, seconds dragging on forever until Ty finally spoke. “It’s a bit tricky with the opposite schedule and school. It might have to wait until next Friday.”
Disappointment crashed over me like an avalanche. Friday. That was a full week away.
“At least you’ve got Kendrick to keep you company,” Ty added.
I let out a harsh little laugh. “Yeah, great!”
“You still haven’t forgiven him?” Ty sounded surprised.
Had I? I shook my head, glancing at my bedside table. A mountain of edible gifts was taking up the drawer. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” Ty said. “Either way, it’s up to you. But I have to get going. I have swim practice this morning, and coach will kill me if I’m late. Just send me a text when you’re going to sleep on Friday, and I’ll be waiting. And call me anytime, night or day. Promise?”
My heart tightened with longing. A whole week apart. Talking on the phone was nothing more than a poor consolation. “I promise.” I hung up the phone and fell back against my bed. Goodbye Ty.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
In the morning when I woke up, I remembered where I was and why. I groaned, tiredly pulling myself out of bed. The few months Mom had threatened were growing increasingly unbearable. And knowing I’d have to wait almost a week to see Ty made each minute feel like an extended lifetime. My emotions were running rampant, filling me with doubt that made me question my actions. Were my feelings for Ty still as strong? Was I really doing the right thing by staying with him?
Inside I felt torn in two directions. A new world was opening up before me. A world where I wasn’t a monster who should be feared. Here I was just normal. On the other hand, being without Ty instilled a sense of loss in me. At times the grief would swell, and at others it diffused. My brain pulsed against my skull. The hours of sleep hadn’t relieved any of my strain. I needed to wake up.
With fatigue ravishing my body, I stumbled into the bathroom. My toe smacked the lifted edge of the tiles and I swore. My head felt heavier with each step, and my eyes burned with exhaustion. I stripped off my tank top and underwear and stepped into the circular, claw-footed bath in the middle of the room. I turned the tap up to what I hoped would be a scalding, but awakening temperature.
The water that fell from the showerhead in the ceiling sparkled under the fluorescent lighting. The sight reminded me of Ty’s unique golden eyes. The temperature only reminded me of the uninhibited moments I had spent in his heated arms. It didn’t awaken my body or mind, and it didn’t relieve the aching of my muscles that felt like I’d run a hundred miles, either. In a feeble attempt to clear my sleepy vision, I rubbed at my eyes. Sharp stinging of soap pierced them and I cried out in pain. With irritation growing, I turned off the shower and drew open the curtain. I searched blindly with my lids pinned shut for a towel.
A loud click, followed by a door opening, shot my heart into my throat. I froze, naked and dripping wet. My still-burning eyes flung open. The door to Kendrick’s room was wide open. Standing in the doorway was Kendrick, gap-jawed and holding a box of Whitman’s chocolates. His staring eyes scoured my naked flesh.
Heat flared up my neck. My flesh ignited. “Don’t just stand there!” I groped for the towel hanging from the wall and flung it around my body. “Get out!”
Kendrick’s face flushed, but he didn’t move. Instead, his gaze traveled up and down my towel-wrapped body, eyes sparkling as though my flesh were still exposed. “I-I….”
Why the hell was he still standing there? Incensed, my jaw snapped shut with a growl. I leaped from the bath and plunged my hands against his chest. “I said, get out!”
Surprise stole Kendrick’s expression and he stumbled back through the doorway.
I slammed the door shut. Sharp breath controlled the rapid rise and fall of my chest. My eyes flickered to the gold-framed mirror spanning the marble vanity. My face was alight with embarrassment, burning crimson. Kendrick just freaking saw me naked! I forced my breath to slow, causing my lungs to ache in protest. At the same time, an unexpected awareness dawned on me. The livid and consuming hate I’d felt towards him had evaporated. I wasn’t pissed with him anymore.
In a hurry, I threw on some clothes and combed through the knots in my long hair. Then I knocked on the adjoining door. “Kendrick, can I come in?” My pulse elevated and I raked my hands through my golden tresses. Nervous energy tightened within my chest. Why are you being like this? It’s just Kendrick.
“Um,” Kendrick’s shaky voice echoed through the barrier. “Just a second…”
The sound of rustling reached my ears before the door swung open. Behind Kendrick, his room was still the same, all posters and dark shades. His snow-dusted boarding jacket and gloves were slung over the couch. The chaise by the night-bordered window held up his snowboard. My sight quickly returned to Kendrick. Now that I wasn’t staring at him through startled eyes, he appeared dog-tired with puffy crescents lining his eyes. Uneasiness strained his face.
“Amelia, I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t realize you were in here. I just came in from
hitting a few slopes and didn’t hear any water.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his damp cargo pants, ashamed eyes downcast.
A flutter of butterflies swarmed my stomach, his genuine unease stealing my words.
Kendrick frowned, shifting his weight from leg to leg. “I know. You’re still pissed at me. You have every right to be.”
Although I could hear my best friend speaking, I wasn’t listening. My eyes had narrowed at the exposed flesh of his slender chest—visible through the three opened buttons of his V-neck. They glided over his jutting collarbone and the throbbing vein that curved over its ridge, to settle along the side of his neck. My mouth drained of all saliva, dry as though it were packed with sand. I was seriously thirsty.
“Amelia, please.” Kendrick’s pleading tone drew my eyes from his neck. “You have to believe me. I only told her to protect you. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
Told who what? I frowned and reached out to touch his arm. “Kendrick, what in the world are you talking about?”
“Telling your mom about Ty,” he said with narrowing eyes. “About him being a werewolf. It’s the reason you’re here.”
Understanding flashed through my mind as I recalled what had somehow vanished from my memory. “Oh, yeah…” I shook off the clouds of confusion. Every detail of that day came back, along with what Kendrick’s actions had caused. But the constant anger I had felt towards him no longer raged through my veins. Instead, warmth fluttered my heart knowing I had now forgiven my best friend. “I must still be half asleep.” I smiled and threw my arms around him. “And I’m sorry too. I don’t want us to fight anymore. I hate it.”
Kendrick pulled from my ecstatic embrace. He curled his strong hands over my shoulders while studying my face. “Are you feeling okay?”
I brushed off his arms, still smiling. “Of course…” My eyes flickered back to the vein along his neck. There was an underlying draw to yield to his flesh and blood. I swallowed back the conflicting feelings. “Let’s get some breakfast. I’m starving.”
Caius had shown me the expansive dining hall during his guided tour. Until now I had remained reluctant to eat there. I hadn’t wanted to allow myself to get comfortable in this prison of mine, to find commonality with the race I belonged to but so deep-heartedly wished I didn’t. But with Kendrick beside me, the reluctance to separate myself seemed to be dissolving. My need and want to refrain from the thing I was and all that came with it, somehow felt less important. I’m changing, I thought with a frown.
The hall was light and inviting. Each table was set with gold-plated cutlery, white china and centerpieces stuffed with black calla lilies. For a moment I wondered if they grew the rare flowers inside the castle’s grounds. They could be quite difficult to come by.
Before I could ask Kendrick, my eyes glided up the exposed columns before the far wall. Their patterned edges met the cathedral ceiling and the edge of a perfectly circular hand-painted piece of art. The vivid painting depicted an angel with wings of satin-black, reaching from darkness into light. His face contorted with clear conflict. My eyes remained frozen above as we took up a table centering the expansive hall. “The painting,” I spoke to Kendrick. “What does it mean?”
Kendrick followed my line of sight to the artwork above our heads. “It’s a depiction of Lucifer,” he explained, “and his struggle to join both worlds, to bring light and darkness together as one.”
The light… You must accept the light. It’s the only way to save him. The fortune teller’s chilling words sounded in my ears. They were as clear as if she had whispered them right beside me.
Coils tightened around my throat and I gulped. “Why is it here?”
Kendrick inclined his head toward me, his expression solemn. “As a reminder…” The line he quoted then brought a rippling shiver to my bones. “Though born through darkness, we must strive for the light, even if it burns us, even if it kills us.” He leaned forward and clutched my hand so hard that his nails dug into my flesh. “Amelia, why are you here?”
My eyes grew wide at his brash question. “What do you mean?” I pried my hand away, rubbing at the indents his nails had left. “You know I had no choice.”
Kendrick glared away, hands curling into fists above the table. His next words were whispered so quietly, that I had to strain to hear them. “You shouldn’t be here.”
A pang of ice shot through my heart. Kendrick didn’t want me here?
The sound of the glass doors to the dining hall swinging open diverted my gaze. Uncle Caius, along with Marcus and a few other vampires, had entered. Caius was deep in conversation with a familiar-looking red-haired woman that I couldn’t quite place. Marcus was tailing behind the group when he caught sight of me. His hand rose to wave, then at noticing Kendrick, dropped. For a split second his expression appeared to harden. Then the look was gone and he was smiling.
Kendrick stiffened in his chair. He nodded without blinking at Marcus before painting a smile across his lips. “So, I was thinking pancakes and a non-virgin bloody Mary, if you know what I mean. Although on the other hand, the waffles come with chocolate sauce. And I know how you can’t resist chocolate.”
~
After breakfast I escaped down to the library, without Kendrick. According to him he had ‘boring as hell Council work’ to get back to. Skillet’s song ‘It’s not me it’s you’ blared through my earbuds. The words made me wonder what I had done to encourage Kendrick’s unexpected words. You shouldn’t be here. I cringed remembering his agitated tone. Was he over my mood swings? Or just sick of loving someone who kept hurting him?
With my pulsing-mind reeling, I walked past the freestanding stacks to the desks in the center of the library. I desperately needed a distraction, a sense of feeling close to someone, of feeling safe and accepted. Only one guy made me feel that way here, and I hardly even knew him. Marcus.
But he wasn’t there. All I found was the desk he usually occupied packed with towering books and tilting manila folders. My eyes scanned past the freestanding stacks. A vacant desk at the back wall housed a desktop computer. No one sat there. Across the room the librarian was reshelving books. She appeared to be the only other person in here.
With a shrug, I sat behind the messy desk and began flicking through a pile of manila folders. Hopefully there’d be something interesting in them to help pass the time, and distract me from thinking about Kendrick. My focus skimmed over much of the hand written scrawl, not really taking notice, until one folder in particular made me stop and stare. Inside the cover was a name written in block letters. AMELIA LAMONT.
Blood roared through my ears, and my eyes transfixed on the folder. Was Marcus spying on me? Fueled confusion tore into my stomach. Growing suspicion was swiftly creeping over me. What the hell was going on?
Desperate for a rational explanation, I flicked through the loose sheets. My eyes bugged. There were pages upon pages of hand written notes, detailing events of my life. The night my lust for blood had risen and my victim from Pulse. The progress I’d made in hunting at the cabin. The day Kendrick had taught me to refrain from killing wild prey. There was mention of Ty and him being a descendant of the werewolf who caused the revolt. Following that were private moments Kendrick and I had shared, including his attempt to compel me. Then the interaction I’d had with the fortune teller and Ty’s transformation in the forest. Lastly was the decision my mom and uncle had made to transfer me to the Armaya.
The list was endless. It was almost an entire recap of my life since I discovered the monster within me. Chocolate-drenched waffle remnants crept quickly up my throat. My hands shook as I continued flicking through the pages. Then they froze. A thicker, smaller piece of paper had slid from between the sheets. With my heart slamming against my chest, I picked up the piece of paper. It was a black and white photograph of my uncle cradling two infants, one in each arm. A proud smile glowed from his drawn face. At first I thought the photo must have been of Dorian and me. Then my eyes di
d a double take on noticing a distinct feature. Even in a black and white photograph one thing was unmistakable. Both newborns had pure blond hair. The color matched my own tresses, but stood a stark contrast to Dorian’s almost black locks. With a frown I turned the photo over, hoping for a date or even some names. I froze. The ink on the back revealed something much more crippling, a recipe of malevolent sorts.
Combine Ingredients with Pure Blood.
- Black Hellebore (slows heart and weakens strength)—Dry and crush entire cutting of plant, including flower.
- Hemlock (depletes all muscle function)—Extract liquid from stem of live plant. DO NOT DRY.
- Belladonna (induces paralysis)—Crush dried roots into dust.
The pendant around my neck blazed with blistering heat. I went to lift it from my flesh, but the picture being suddenly ripped from my grasp stopped me. Marcus threw the photo inside the folder and slammed the cover shut. “What do you think you are doing?”
His wrath-twisted expression threw me, knocking the wind from my lungs. Yet I couldn’t ignore what I’d held in my hands. Questions whirled through my mind. “What the hell is all this?” I demanded, thrusting the evidence into his face.
Marcus dropped into the seat beside me and snatched my hands. Electricity stung where his flesh connected with mine, and I futilely tried to pull away. “Let me explain.” He clung harder to my hands, eyes staring into mine. The silver of his irises came alive, extinguishing the teal flecks of his unusually colored eyes. Then his pupils dilated. “Forget what you saw.”
I fought to look away, to break the magnetized draw of his eyes. But I couldn’t. He was too powerful. My head dipped, nodding.
“You never saw the folder marked with your name, or any of its contents.” Marcus’s voice was as smooth as silk. It caressed my prickling flesh with each spoken word. “After breakfast you came to the library for our tutoring session, but now you have a splitting headache. You will ask to skip today’s lesson so you can return to your room and rest.”