Page 64 of A Bond Beyond Blood
Which meant I had to go higher.
Pulling in a deep breath, I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, trying to find the courage to proceed.
Becoming a vampire had changed many things; my fear of heights was not one of them.
But for fuck’s sake, I was a monster now, a creature of the night—ha ha, right,that one was a myth.We could obviously walk in daylight.But Iwasa killing machine.When I was initially turned and set loose on the world without a fucking soul around to tell me what the hell was going on or how to handle myurges, the body count rose quickly—
Shaking my head, I pushed those thoughts aside.Dwelling on my mistakes and regrets would do nothing for me now.Another deep breath, then I squared my shoulders and started up the stairs to the next floor.
At the door that led to the third level of the warehouse, I stopped, considering once again the drop to the ground outside.Gaze flicking from that door to the stairs, I made my decision and continued to climb.I was a vampire now, goddammit!I couldn’t be afraid anymore.
Iwouldn’tbe afraid anymore.
The next landing was the highest level of the old warehouse, the fourth floor, or, as the sign on the door indicated,roof access.
Nodding to myself, I twisted the doorknob, but it didn’t give immediately, so I focused my energy, wrapped both hands around it, and twisted harder until the lock snapped and I could yank open the door.I exhaled the breath I’d been holding without meaning to, then stepped out onto the roof into the crisp evening air.Snow had begun to fall, drifting down in delicate flakes all around me, melting as they hit the rooftop.
A white Christmas.Jackie would love this.
The night I’d been turned had been a lot like this one, though minus the snow falling.At the time, the crisp chill in the air was unseasonable, a cold winter that refused to let go to make way for spring.But on that cold, late April night, I’d been headed home from a party, fucked up out of my mind from drowning myself in booze and pills, always trying to forget the way I’d turned my back on the only girl I’d ever loved—and too fuckingcowardlyto apologize.
I’d been doing that a lot back then, drinking and drugging through the misery and guilt instead of manning up and telling Jacqueline the truth, admitting that watching her pain, her grief, had made me feel so helpless—and I hated that feeling more than anything else in the world.I’d felt it before, that powerlessness, the night my father’s debts caught up to him and he was beaten to death in front of me while I hid in the pantry.After that, I vowed to never feel helpless again.
So watching Jackie grieve and being unable to help her was excruciating.The way her bereavement had triggered memories of my own loss had broken something inside me, and when she’d needed me most, I’d fled.
I ghosted that girl when I should have stayed.Turned my back on her when I should have pulled her into my arms.She needed strength and I gave her weakness.I ran from her grief instead of holding her through it,lovingher through it.
A true piece of shit if ever there was one.
I left her alone like her father had, though onlyoneof us had any control over that.
Once upon a time, I thought I’d marry Jackie Fiorino.
Now, I’d be lucky if she ever spoke to me again.
Tilting my face up to the sky, I closed my eyes and absorbed the sensation of each tiny flake of snow that hit my skin.The way I could feel the brush of each snowflake like a gentle caress was something I still wasn’t used to.
I’d had my face turned up to the sky that night, too, just like this, stumbling my way home and trying to focus on the moon to steady my steps.I never even saw the vampire who grabbed me, didn’t have a chance to fight or scream before his fangs pierced the flesh of my throat.
The first pull of blood from my veins stole my breath.
The next cleared my mind, the fog of my intoxication draining with every drop of life the monster pulled from me, and with that clarity came understanding.I was dying.What followed was a flood of emotions so powerful I couldn’t catalog them all, but at the forefront, fear and regret.
And then acceptance.
I only have bits of memories after that, a handful of little glimpses of that night and the weeks that followed remaining with me even now.Huge blocks of time are still missing from my mind.
I try not to dwell on those.
The soft sound of leather against asphalt as my feet dangled in the air and I struggled to find purchase, the toes of my sneakers scuffing back and forth over the ground.
Nausea, as the overwhelming scent of his cologne clouded around me like he’d showered in the stuff.
The way I’d drift in and out of consciousness.
Then there were the memories, a slideshow of my short life, flitting past as if he was extracting them from my mind one by one.
Snapshots of moments with my mom, my dad...
