by Sotia Lazu
But I couldn’t make out a heartbeat.
A piece of paper was pinned to the wooden frame of the door. I snatched it.
You took something of mine. Now I took something of yours. I hope he’s still alive when you find him, so you can watch him die.
W.
It was written in ink, not blood, the handwriting sophisticated and elegant.
My fangs dropped.
I didn’t bother hiding them again.
“I swear, I’ll kill you.” My words echoed back to me in the narrow corridor. A low thump snapped me out of my shock and led me to the entrance of the room. Another thump followed. It was a heartbeat, slow and unsteady.
Reluctantly, I opened the door.
I saw him.
My brain at first refused to make sense of the sight. It couldn’t accept that the crimson sheets weren’t really red, but soaked with my lover’s blood. I couldn’t believe the naked torso, covered with wounds, belonged to the man I loved. I couldn’t grasp that I was seeing his life essence seep away from too many cuts to count. Willoughby didn’t feed from him, or there wouldn’t be so much blood. No. The sick bastard took his time slicing and biting Alex, for the sole purpose of torturing and killing him.
I hoped Alex had been under a thrall or unconscious during his ordeal. He had to be, or someone would have heard and called 911. On second thought, I wished someone did. Alex’s chances of survival would be higher. His pulse was too weak. Even if I called now, they’d be too late.
I climbed on the bed next to him and raised his head in my lap, willing him to wake up. “Come on, baby. Open your eyes. Please, open your eyes and look at me.”
I was crying again—still—begging him to stay with me, warning him not to dare slip away from my grasp, when we were so good together. “I want to be with you, Alex. Please, look at me. Look at me.” I was rambling. I took off my top and tried to wipe him clean.
I didn’t want to lick his wounds closed. I didn’t want his blood in my mouth, even if it was to save him. So I spat on my hands and rubbed them on every inch of him, pressing everywhere, to stem the flow. His blood slid between my fingers, too precious and too elusive.
“You can’t leave me, not when I just found you,” I whispered.
Not a twitch.
“Open your eyes, Alex. Open those beautiful eyes. Wake up. We’ll make you good as new. Just look at me. Please.” I was lying, to him and to myself. There was no way to make him good as new. Though he wasn’t losing any more blood, I could see and hear that there was too little left in him. He had but minutes to live, and I could do nothing but watch him go.
Wrong.
There was something I could do.
Unsure of whether it was the right thing, or if it would work anyway, I used my fangs to pierce my inner wrist. Forcing his lips open with my other hand, I held my wrist to them and squeezed a few drops of my blood into his mouth. If the handbook had it right, that ought to be enough.
It didn’t appear to be.
Alex’s eyes never opened.
Not when I kissed him and told him I’d rather have another moment with him than an eternity alone. Not when I shook him and watched his curls, usually carefree, cling to his skull, matted with his blood. Not when I finally said I loved him.
I moved him off my lap and lay next to him, turning his face so his mouth was a hairbreadth from mine.
I was still begging him to open those long eyelashes of his, when his last breath caressed my face.
I kept begging long after his heart stopped beating.
Chapter Eighteen
CONSTANTINE SHOWED up near dawn. He said he called me several times, but I couldn’t remember hearing my phone ring. Not that I’d care, if I did.
“He won’t wake up,” I told him, trying to clear my throat. It was sore, and I guessed my mourning hadn’t been as quiet as I thought. “I tried. I gave him my blood. But he won’t—” A sob cut me off, and I shook Alex’s still form hard. “Why won’t he—”
Constantine wrapped his arms around me, pulling me from Alex. “Hush, baby.” He hadn’t called me that in years. Once upon a time, I melted when the word escaped his lips. Now I wished it was Alex whispering it in my ear.
Constantine tried to calm me down, but I wouldn’t listen. His words couldn’t penetrate my sorrow. Couldn’t diffuse my guilt. Alex was dead because he’d met me.
“—light outside.”
I turned to Constantine in a fury and shoved him halfway across the room. How could he talk about anything other than the loss I suffered? He grabbed my forearms when I went for him again, and held me to him while I flailed.
He didn’t let go until I stopped fighting his grip. “We have to go before it’s too late.” He was right.
I couldn’t care less.
He obviously caught on, because he hauled me over his shoulder with an exaggerated sigh and moved to the window. Finding fresh strength, I thrashed and kicked. Not that it did me any good; his grasp was made of steel.
“I’ll be back for him.” He pinned my legs to him with both hands. “I promise.”
I didn’t believe him, but it didn’t matter. He could take me wherever he wanted. Protect me from the sun. Hide me at his estate so the remaining council wouldn’t come after me when they found out I killed Johnny Boy. He could keep my body from dusting, but I’d still be dead inside.
Alex was gone, because of me.
Everything I let myself hope for—love, a future—was wiped out because I was stupid. Alex never heard me say I loved him, because I was too selfish to admit it aloud.
Back at the mansion, I sank into an armchair and curled into myself. Sheena tried to comfort me, but I would have none of it. I didn’t deserve to be comforted. I’d brought Alex into a world filled with death and left him there to be swallowed whole.
I was wallowing in misery when Dotty opened her eyes and started shrieking. Constantine was at a loss. Her wails became louder every time he tried to approach her, and she wouldn’t stay still long enough for him to catch her gaze. Seeing me calmed her down but didn’t help us decide what to do next. I mean, were we supposed to tell her the truth or try the all-powerful mind wipe?
In the end, it was my call to let her choose for herself.
We filled her in on the entire story and let her decide if she wanted us to make her forget.
She did.
She didn’t want to remember a single thing she’d been through, but most of all, she didn’t want to know there was such a thing as vampires, or that I was one of them. I took her memories of the last few days away and, when she came to, fed her a story about Constantine and me being secret agents who were in charge of solving her kidnapping. Other than being a part of that secret organization, VSS—feel free to laugh—Constantine was also a doctor. He assured her she didn’t have to worry about her loss of short-term memory, as it was trauma induced.
She swore not to mention us or our organization to anyone, including the cops. Since Willoughby had an invitation to her home and we couldn’t be sure if he’d go after her again, we promised to drive her to her mother’s, where her son was still staying, as soon as the sun went down.
She wouldn’t wait that long, and I couldn’t blame her. I wished I could be there when she was reunited with her son, but my wishes weren’t what counted now. I hugged her goodbye, promised to check in on them soon, and called her a taxi, which Constantine gladly paid for.
Dotty and Mark would be fine, and I’d be around to make sure of that. I would accept no more losses.
That last thought landed me back in my reality and snuffed out my glee over seeing Dotty back to her normal self. At least she still had a life and the option to lock the boogeyman out of it.
I was the boogeyman. I was the thing hiding under the bed, skulking in the darkness and luring good, brave people to their death. Their horrible, painful, lonely death.
I hid my face in my palms and sat there, praying I could take the last few hours back—or
maybe even the last few days. I would have never met Alex, but at least his smile would still be brightening the world.
“CHERRY, IT’S TIME.”
I lifted my head and looked at Constantine through blurry eyes. Time for what? I blinked to bring him into focus. Exhaustion must have overtaken me, because I was now lying on the couch. I hadn’t realized I drifted off.
Constantine wiped my hair off my face with gentle fingers. “Do you want to come with me?”
I didn’t know what he was talking about. I shook my head. I didn’t want to move; I wanted to waste away and leave behind the pain tearing me up inside.
“He’s going to bring Alex,” Sheena said with a tender smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Her palm on my shoulder was more than a show of support. She was gently pushing me up.
“Alex is dead.” There were no more tears in my eyes, but they were choking my voice. “I don’t want to see him like that. Not again.”
Constantine frowned. “Cherry...”
In my sleepy state, it was harder for me to block his voice out.
“Cherry, didn’t you hear me earlier?”
Instead of replying, I closed my eyes.
He grabbed my upper arms and shook me gently. “Listen to me. You know newly turned vampires don’t rise if their turning was close to dawn, so they don’t burst into flames when they greet the morning sun.”
I knew that. Three hours from sunrise was the theoretical limit. The meaning of his words finally sank in. “If Alex’s turning was successful, he’ll only just be waking up now.” Oh God, I should have remembered that.
Constantine smiled gently. “Do you want to come with me?”
I nodded gingerly and sat up, but doubt stopped me from standing. “I can’t. What if he’s not...?” Not alive. Not turned. Not happy with the choice I made for him. Scratch that—I didn’t care if he was so mad at me he never wanted to see me again. All that mattered was for him to still be part of my world.
“I’ll bring him to you.” The softness of Constantine’s tone surprised me, as did his certainty.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I would do anything for you. You know that.” I did, but I couldn’t focus on what it meant. I could have Alex back. I could have another chance. I could even have forever.
Soon I’d know if Alex was gone or not.
Epilogue
LESS THAN FORTY-EIGHT hours ago, under Sheena’s worried, watchful eye, Constantine turned my emotional switch from devastated to hopeful, and then proceeded to make good on his promise.
Alex wasn’t gone.
In Constantine’s words, “he was looking around stupidly” and nearly ripped Constantine’s arm off when the latter tried to feed him. Still, Alex was composed and clean by the time the two came back to Constantine’s.
I heard the door open and stopped myself from wearing a moat into the floor with my pacing. Alex stopped in the doorway and met my gaze. It took great effort to hold back from tackling him. I studied him carefully, trying to spot any difference between his new self and the man I knew and loved. I searched his eyes for a hint of resentment. There was none. Only love shown in the smile he gave me.
Unable to put my relief into words, I flew into his arms, which closed around me. “I love you,” I said, the words long overdue. I clung to him and kissed him the way he deserved to be kissed, declaring my love every time our lips separated.
Constantine cleared his throat. “I’ve made arrangements for the young ladies to spend the night in my quarters, so I can ensure they are comfortable,” he said. Such an altruist. Snort. “You may settle in the guest wing. Don’t make me regret my hospitality.” Or else was implied.
We didn’t.
Not last night, anyway.
From what I’ve seen so far, Alex has taken to his change well enough. He’s tamed the hunger already. I guess his first feeding from one of us and his preexisting ethical code helped with that, but I still dread what will happen if he needs to feed from a human.
The council doesn’t know about his turning, and we’re planning on keeping it a secret for as long as possible. That way, if he decides to keep in touch with friends and family, he’ll just have to come up with an explanation for his newfound intolerance to sunlight. We haven’t yet talked about how he wants to deal with work and his mother. We haven’t talked much in general. We had other priorities.
Alex refused to give flying a chance, said he’s too grounded for that, but I convinced him to let me fly him to his car last night—and I listened to him grumble about his trunk being busted.
We drove to his mom’s place. I hated cleaning up the mess in his childhood bedroom. The sheets reeked, and the mattress was soaked all the way through. There was no way the blood would be washed away from them, or from my memory. We stuffed the beddings in garbage bags, which we drove to the nearest dumpster, praying nobody noticed us.
The powers that be were listening, as I suspect they have been since Alex and I first met.
The room stank only slightly less like a slaughterhouse after the second thorough cleaning with bleach, and we decided to leave the windows open for the night, hoping fresh air would help.
I insisted we fly back, but Alex wouldn’t hear of it. The lid of his trunk is now kept closed with several layers of duct tape.
Back at the mansion, we ran into Liza, who demanded to know when Constantine would be back.
Who knows?
He’s meeting the remaining council tonight in hopes of convincing the dusting of two of their members was necessary. I offered to go with him, but he wouldn’t let me.
I hope he succeeds. If he doesn’t, we have to go underground for a long time, and by underground I don’t mean his humongous and luxurious basement.
“The girls are asking for him.” Liza pouted prettily.
Right. The girls.
All three of them have become far more attached to my ex than is advisable. I wonder what will happen when we find the rest of Ádísa and Willoughby’s would-be undead army. Will Constantine start a harem? He said yesterday that he plans to keep them with him until he figures out a solution with the council. I think he just loves having three gorgeous women falling over themselves for him.
Let him. I have Alex.
We promised Liza we’d let her know if we heard from Constantine, and pushed our way past her, holding hands.
Sheena was nowhere in sight, as expected; her internal clock is the opposite of ours. Night equals sleep time to her body, and I see no reason for that to change.
She isn’t in a hurry to go home. On the contrary, yesterday afternoon she mentioned she’d arranged for some of her clothes to be brought in. “If you run, I run,” she said. “I’m safer with you.” I think Wesley gave her the idea. He’s taken her under his wing and would probably hate to lose her company.
She doesn’t have much to fear. There’s been no sign of Willoughby, who probably thinks he’s exacted his revenge. It’s actually unfortunate, because I want to find him and make him answer the two questions plaguing me. I asked Constantine, but he has no idea why I was chosen as vampire zero, so to speak, or what Ádísa’s comment about my family meant.
Sheena isn’t concerned with all this, of course. She insists Willoughby may come after her at any second. I think her reason for sticking around is, in fact, also Constantine. The man is going to have his hands full for a while.
I don’t feel sorry for him. I’m too busy enjoying my time with Alex.
I HAVEN’T FED AND YET can’t be bothered. I’m sprawled on my back in Constantine’s bed, trying not to think about where I am and what I’m doing.
I look at the man between my legs and tangle my fingers in his black hair. “We shouldn’t.” I drift off, pleasure turning my next words into a moan.
Gray eyes meet mine. “Will you relax? He’ll never know.”
Of course he’ll know, and he’ll probably kill us both, or hand us over to the council to do that for him.
<
br /> We were only supposed to go to his room for Alex to borrow clean clothes. But Constantine’s bed is just so huge. We were unable to resist.
Constantine was sickeningly nice to me since he hauled me away from Alex’s dead body, but I doubt he’ll keep being nice once he smells my little carnal reunion with Alex in his bed.
I try extremely hard to care about that, while Alex pumps three fingers inside me, his tongue flicking my clit.
I fail. Spectacularly.
Later, exhausted and sated, I trace Alex’s jugular with my tongue. Graze my teeth over it. He grabs my hair and presses my mouth against his flesh, but I just nuzzle it.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?” he asks.
She did indeed. All the time. I let out a deep, throaty chuckle and sink my fangs into the smooth column, letting his rich blood fill my throat. I have all I need, and I’m where I want to be. I’m happy.
I hope I’ll feel the same way when Constantine returns with news from the council.
If he returns.
He still hasn’t called, and I can’t say I’m not a little worried. For all I know, despite his charm and the fact that he’s right, the council executed him on the spot and the remaining members are coming for us.
They can’t come inside this house, thanks to Wesley.
Even if they do, Alex and I will handle it.
The End
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Cherry Blossom (Vampire Cherry Book 2) - Chapter One
I LIKE BIG BEDS.
I like wide, comfy mattresses that allow me to stretch to my heart’s desire and roll over as many times as I please. What’s more, I like bedmates that don’t take up the space I lovingly maintain around me.
Alex wasn’t that kind of a bedmate.
Alex was a cuddler, which I more than appreciated after naughty-times, but suffocated me in my sleep, when the weight of an arm pressed my chest down or a hard body kept me from turning around.