by C. R. Jane
Damon doesn’t bother answering any of the questions that Mason is asking and takes me straight into his bathroom, filling his enormous tub with warm water. I’m so cold and exhausted that I don’t even blink when he strips off my trash bag, leaving me naked in front of both of them.
“Eva,” Mason says, looking horrified, and I realize that he’s looking at my chest where the red paint is still spread all over my whole chest.
“It’s just paint,” I hurriedly explain, leaning on Damon as I get into the water. The water immediately turns pink from just sitting there, but I don’t bother to ask them to refill it. Instead I lean back in the tub and close my eyes, savoring the warmth of the water as I start to unfreeze.
I can feel Damon and Mason still staring at me as I warm up, and after five more minutes I hear the front door of the penthouse slam open, with Beckham appearing seconds later.
He looks terrified and frantic, like he’s just witnessed someone’s death.
“Eva,” he says hoarsely, his eyes running all over me as if he’s checking to make sure all my limbs are still present. He comes up to the tub and sinks to his knees in front of it, grabbing my body and bringing me in tightly against him. Water sloshes everywhere but I savor the feeling of him, knowing we both need the reassurance. His whole body is shaking, and I softly stroke his hair, trying to murmur reassuring words to him.
“Why would you leave like that?” he asks. With his question it’s like all the oxygen is pulled out of the room. Damon leans against the wall, cold fury and disappointment written all over his features. Mason’s gripping the edge of the bathroom counter like he’s going to rip it off.
I realize that they think that I just left, and I’m both ashamed and a little perturbed. Granted I have left before, but it’s never been without leaving a note. The fact that I woke up naked in the middle of the city with red paint splattered all over my body doesn’t give me very much patience for the situation. Surely my outfit, or my lack of an outfit in this case, would provide a clue that I didn’t just go out to meet a friend for coffee.
I take a deep breath though when I look at Beckham again. I have no idea what they went through when I was kidnapped by the Reverend. If anything ever happened to them...well, I would probably be acting a little crazy too.
“I didn’t leave, at least not willingly,” I tell them, since I have no idea how I ended up in an alley. “I think it was Aiden, but I can’t be sure.”
“There’s no way that I would have slept through Aiden appearing in my apartment,” argues Beckham, an edge of hysteria in his voice at the thought.
“He has some kind of power over my dreams,” I tell them. “He invades them, and completely makes them his own.”
“You said ‘dreams’ Eva,” points out Damon sharply. I close my eyes, rebuking myself for saying anything.
“It’s happened a few times,” I admit softly. “But I had no idea that they were more than dreams until the other day. And I certainly never imagined in a million years that he would do what he did last night.”
Damon begins to growl something, but Beckham silences him. “Where did he take you last night?”
“I woke up in an alleyway...naked,” I say, my voice shaking. “There was a giant scarlet letter on my chest, like in that book we read in English class at the beginning of the semester. Someone had written ‘whore’ on the wall above me.” I start to scrub at my chest, trying to rid my skin of whatever hands have touched it without my permission.
Mason, the gentlest one of the three, immediately walks over with a loofah and gets it soapy, handing it to me and stepping away. I’m grateful that he didn’t try to do it himself since thinking about the situation and absorbing just how terrible it was has made me feel increasingly violated.
“You were naked in the middle of New York City?” spits out Damon, suddenly punching a hole in the bathroom wall. Damon’s so strong that the whole wall shatters upon impact, leaving dust and debris everywhere, and doing nothing to help the situation.
“It was an alley right across from the college,” I tell them shakily, my eyes avoiding Damon’s. “I didn’t have anything with me, it was awful.”
“How did you get back?” asks Mason. Before I can answer, Damon spits out Eric’s name bitterly.
“I wrapped myself in some discarded trash bags and was in the process of hailing a cab when he saw me on the sidewalk. He paid for my Uber and I guess decided to come along just in case I needed help.”
Before anything else can be said, Beckham suddenly barks at Damon and Mason to get out. He’s shaking even more terribly, and his normally gold skin has turned a little grey.
They must notice how terrible he looks just as I did, because they leave the bathroom quickly, of course not before Damon sends me a dark look that promises me this conversation isn’t over.
While I’ve been watching them leave, Beckham’s been busy running more water and emptying out the dirty water. After he’s refilled it, I watch him undress as he slides in behind me. There’s only comfort in his mind as he wraps his arms around me, comfort that we both need.
11
Beckham
The harsh ring of my cell phone had been what woke me up this morning, not the fact that the love of my existence had disappeared into thin air. Even now holding her, it doesn't feel like enough reassurance. Although I can remember much of the events that happened in my past life with Eva, at least in this life I’ve always felt that I was in charge of my life, that I held my own destiny in my hands. Ever since Eva came into my life, all of my control has flown out the window.
Now it seems that I’m woefully unprepared, and perhaps unable, to protect her from what danger seems to be waiting for her every time she steps foot out the door. I feel a helpless rage at the situation. I would do anything it takes to protect her. The fact that things keep happening makes me feel like I don’t deserve her. I lost her once in the past, and although my restored memories of that time tell me that the loss of her felt like dying at the time; somehow, I think that losing her in this existence would be even worse.
I’m glad that Mason and Damon left the room without a fight. I feel sick inside, unsettled in a way that can only be cured by being able to assure myself that she’s alright. I savor the warmth of her body. I can’t get close enough, can’t touch her enough to make me feel better about the fact that she disappeared while in my arms this morning.
We don’t talk, and we stay there wrapped in each other’s arms much longer than the hot water does. When I feel goosebumps on her skin, I decide that I should get her out. I slip out first and grab a towel, wrapping it around her body after she stands up. I sit her down on the bench and grab a brush, slowly running it through her hair. I’ve never brushed a woman’s hair before, but I feel the urge to take care of her in every way that I can.
I feel her watching me in the mirror while I concentrate on the task and I look up and meet her eyes. She pushes her emotion into me like she has started doing and it energizes me and immediately makes me happier and less fearful for the future. If she loves me like that, how can I be upset? I set the brush down and wrap my arms around her again, unable to resist touching her. Like usual, I brush a kiss across her collarbone, sending a silent prayer to her soul that it will remember the love that we used to share.
I go into her room to grab her some clothes. While I’m looking through some clothes in her bottom drawer, I come across a faded leather book. I pick it up, thinking that it’s been put in there by accident. I open to the first page and almost drop the book when a rush of memory comes over me when I look at the writing. Lexi giving me back my memories has made everything in my past seem like they happened just yesterday even though it’s probably been hundreds, if not thousands of years since that time.
The writing looks like Eva’s mother’s writing. I want to read it, with Eva’s propensities to keep secrets, it seems like a necessary, if not drastic measure to uncover some of them. However, the fact that the book
is from Eva’s mother makes me close it, and put it back under her clothes in the drawer. I just hope that eventually she will start telling me things. There was a time that I was the one she told everything to.
When we’re both dressed, we walk out to the living room where Mason and Damon are deep in discussion. They both stop talking abruptly as soon as we enter the room and look expectantly at Eva while avoiding eye contact with me. Eva yawns and Damon stands up and grabs a pill bottle that was sitting on the counter. He unscrews it and gives her a small white pill and a glass of water.
“We decided that it was worth a shot for you to try sleeping pills for a few nights. Hopefully it will put you into a deeper sleep than usual and you won’t dream at all.”
It makes sense, but the idea of her falling asleep scares the shit out of me. I walk over to the bar and pour myself one of Damon’s expensive bourbons. I throw it back, savoring the warmth as it goes down my throat.
“How long have the dreams been going on?” I ask her.
She exchanges a look with Mason, and I feel stupidly hurt that she’s told him about her dreams but hasn’t told me. “Almost since I first came to New York,” she tells me. “But Aiden didn’t start visiting and controlling my dreams until the last few weeks.”
The glass cracks in my hand from how hard I’m holding it, and I curse when I cut myself on the jagged edges. Eva of course runs over to me with a towel and immediately starts to tend to my cut. The cut heals in just a minute since it wasn’t very deep, but I milk the wound as long as possible just so she’ll continue to take care of me. When she walks to throw the rag away, I immediately miss her touch.
“Why don’t you go ahead and take it, baby,” says Damon, and she nods. She looks exhausted and it’s all I can do to try and fake some composure. The idea that she was naked in freezing temperatures in the middle of the city makes me want to kill someone. Preferably Aiden. What is he playing at anyway? The last thing I would want is Eva naked for someone else’s eyes. Aiden’s obsessiveness seems on a different level even from my own. How closely is he watching us? Did he watch Eva and I’s night together and that’s what made him do something so drastic? Just thinking about it all makes my head hurt.
Eva walks away to head towards her room, and I freak out about her sleeping where we can’t see her.
“Can you fall asleep in here right now?” I ask quickly, and I can see the tense looks on the other’s faces signifying they agree.
Her face gentles at my question and she nods and goes over to the couch where Mason is of course waiting with a blanket. She lays down and falls asleep within minutes.
As soon as her breathing steadies, a dark silence descends on the room. We’re all fighting our own demons when it comes to Eva and our inability to protect her.
Damon picks up a newspaper from the counter and throws it at me. I pick it up and cringe when I see a broken body lying in a pool of blood.
“What about it?” I ask him.
“Read the article,” he spits at me. Annoyed with his attitude I glance over the article. The body was evidently found right by the Rockefeller Center, at the base of the Christmas tree, yikes. Still not connecting the dots, I give Damon a questioning glance.
“Idiot,” barks Damon. “You didn’t notice that the victim with his throat ripped out has blonde hair and has an almost identical outfit from the one you had on last night during your date with Eva? And the body was dumped where your date took place?”
“Were you watching us last night?” I ask, infuriated.
“Just look at the picture again,” he answers vaguely.
I table the rest of my questions to look at the picture again. Sure enough, somehow, I missed that the body has on the Russian hat disguise I was wearing last night. The rest of his clothes are almost identical to mine with the exception that he’s not wearing sunglasses. His lifeless eyes are staring up at the sky.
“You think that the killer is after us? Do you think it’s Aiden?”asks Mason.
“I think this has to do with Eva, like everything else seems to be lately. I don’t think Aiden would care about killing look alikes. Whatever he’s planning will involve killing the real us.”
“It looks like a young vampire bite,” I say slowly, examining the wound closer. It’s a little hard to see because of the poor quality of the picture, but it certainly looks like an animal bite. Since the idea that there’s a rabid animal roaming the New York City streets seems unlikely, my thoughts immediately go to a vampire.
“Lexi took Eva to a vampire club a few nights before she disappeared,” says Damon, looking like he wants to kill Lexi. “I’m sure she caught the eye of most of the bloodsuckers there that night. They love pretty things.”
“Eva’s not a thing,” barks Mason, and I roll my eyes.
“Now’s not the time for a pissing match,” I tell them. Damon looks like he’s about to attack both of us, but Eva shifts in her sleep, moaning a bit and we all stop.
“I’ll put out a word to my contact in the vampire community that we won’t be lenient if anything else happens and that Eva is ours,” I say quietly, getting my phone out to text one of the vampires I’ve known for a long time.
“That’s just going to spark more interest in her than already exists,” argues Mason.
“What’s your idea?” I shoot back.
“Burn the club down,” says Damon seriously.
“I doubt Eva is going to condone murdering hundreds of creatures, vampires or not,” I answer.
“Eva isn’t thinking clearly right now. Haven’t you all noticed that Aiden got to her. He messed with her mind for a month...he’s still messing with her mind right now. She hasn’t been the same since she returned. We don’t even know the extent of what the Reverend did right before that either. I’m not waiting for her to wake up and come back to us. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her whether she likes it or not,” says Damon determinately.
I send the text asking if my contact has heard anything and anxiously wait for a response. I look at Eva again like I’ve been doing every couple of minutes. I have to keep reassuring myself that she’s still there since I have no idea if Aiden is in her dreams right now.
“One of us needs to stay up and watch,” I say tiredly, the anxiety of the day hitting me once again and reminding me how tired I am.
“I’ll stay up,” says Damon, and I nod, knowing that he’s used to going days at a time without sleeping if need be.
“We’ll switch off,” Mason says.
Without saying anything else, Damon walks over to Eva and tenderly scoops her into his arms, walking her towards his bedroom. Mason and I give identical longing stares after Eva, both of us wishing that Eva was sleeping in our beds. I check my phone and sigh frustratedly that Conrad, my vampire contact, hasn’t answered yet.
“I’m going to crash in Eva’s room,” I tell Mason, walking down the hallway. I’m tempted to go camp out on Damon’s floor, so I can be near Eva and check for myself that she’s alright, but I don’t need to be as crazy as Damon already is with her.
Laying in her bed, wrapped in her scent, it takes forever to fall asleep. And when I do, my sleep is filled with dreams featuring reruns of our past, where I’m always looking for her and she’s never there.
12
Eva
“Well, I think we can safely say that sleeping pills are not the answer,” says Aiden in a mocking voice from behind me as soon as I open my eyes and find myself in another dream. We’re standing in the alleyway where I woke up this morning.
“You did do this,” I tell him, whirling around and gesturing at the crimson “whore” that is still splattered on the wall. I reach up to slap him, but he conjures a rope that ties my wrists above my head. It pulls me as if it’s tied to something else, until I’m standing on my tip toes. I try to pull on the rope to free my hands, but he has me held captive.
Aiden takes a leisurely stroll around me, dragging his finger delicately on the thin strip of skin
that is peeking out from under my shirt. It sends shivers down my spine that aren’t all together unpleasant.
“It’s dreadful that you were even attractive this morning covered in trash,” he says, giving me a lecherous smile as he licks his lips slowly.
For a second, I remember what his lips felt like on mine and I miss the taste. But then I remember the look of Mason dying in my arms and I feel a deep sense of shame.
The rope stretches even more, and it starts to chafe the skin on my wrists.
“Are you ready to talk about what you’ve learned yet?” he asks, leaning against the wall under the “whore.”
I keep my mouth closed. I’m desperate to get out of this dream and I start to rub my wrists back and forth, trying to draw blood.
“What are you doing?” says Aiden, exasperatedly. I feel victory when I feel the sharp splice of my skin before he can remove the rope.
I wake up crying, holding my wrists. Damon’s next to me immediately, blotting the gaping sores, which makes the deep gouges in my wrists hurt even more.
“Fuck,” he roars. Mason and Beckham rush into the room.
I’m tired and frustrated...and sick of feeling helpless. I sob into Damon’s shoulder, desperate not to fall back asleep. I rear back from Damon in the knick of time as golden energy shoots out of me, shattering a lamp and making a clean hole in the wall.
We all stare at the wall in shock, but no one says anything. The use of my powers takes the last bit of energy out of me and I fall into a deep, blissfully dreamless sleep that I wish I could stay in forever.
I wake up the next morning, determined to actually do something to solve my problems. I’m going to talk to Lexi and see what else she knows, and then I have a meeting with a professor of one of my classes that I need to go to in order to finish my last project for that class.
Damon’s in his closet getting dressed, but he comes out when he hears me getting out of bed. I kiss him good morning, then walk down the hall to get some breakfast before I start my day. A minute later he joins me, grabbing a snack before giving me a quick kiss that still manages to leave me breathless.