Page 48 of The Curse of Eternity
“It’s not like that,” I assured. “It’s just—I feel like sometimes you think so highly of me, and I don’t want you to think I’m that great when you don’t know the truth.”What the hell was I saying?Flushing hot, like I’d admitted way more than I’d meant to, I averted my gaze to the window. Where lace curtains allowed softened sunlight to illuminate the space.
A moment passed, and to distract from my self-imposed humiliation, I focused on how bright the house was. Compared to the Cneaz’s manor, where every window was shuttered closed, and the dwellings of the colonies my family had taken out—where any and all cracks got boarded up—it seemed like the undead couldn’t cope with seeing themselves, or each other, the way they really looked.
Drake had never shied away from what or who he was,if only I could do the same.
“I was already aware that you held a heavy heart.” His voice was too damn tender, and caring. I gripped my crossed arms harder to keep my emotions from welling up. “Blinking hell, you had suggested as much during our evening at the Two Fools Tavern.”
The way he saidour eveningheated my cheekbones.
“If I were to judge a person based on who they used to be, then I would never be capable of looking into the mirror.”
“Then what do you judge someone by?” Despite my small voice, I looked up to face him head on. He’d moved closer, his steps silent, until I was staring up at him from only a foot away.
“By what they choose to overcome.” His smile was heartbreaking, made complete by his heavily-lidded eyes staring down into mine. I swallowed, and took a shaky breath. Desperate to forgive myself, even if nobody else had.
“Okay.” It was all I could say, everything in me trying to hold back from throwing my arms around him. Losing myself in his embrace, like I had in the park when we kissed, was too tempting—and the part of me fighting the urge was weakening.
Neither of us spoke. An undercurrent sparked between us, waiting for the other to act while we stood in silence spiked with tension. Then his hand rose, his fingertips brushing my jaw before he tucked a stray curl behind my ear. The simple touch soothed an ache inside me that returned when he pulled away, and a chill caressed my spine.
Drake visibly swallowed, glancing toward the door we’d entered through. “I will be downstairs, enlightening Winston to what has transpired before I tell him of our future plans.”
“I’ll be down soon.” I cleared my suddenly tight throat, which seemed to make Drake smile before he left the room. He closed the door behind him, and I sank down onto the bed. What had almost happened? More importantly, what did I wish had happened?
Slapping my warm cheeks, I shook my head and made my way to the bathroom on wobbling steps.
− 16 −
Love is Suicide
Fog coated the mirror before I wiped it off with a blue hand towel. Steam surrounded me, and the bathroom sparkled, reflecting the sunlight cascading through the small window over the toilet. I scoffed when I could finally see my own reflection, and then winced. Never before had I ever looked or felt thiswrecked.
Dark circles weighed down my round blue-gray eyes. A pale sheen marred the olive undertone to my complexion, and the scattered scrapes from my hands to my dimpled chin didn’t help. Sighing, I unwrapped the towel around my midriff and grimaced at the bruises across my left hip and rib cage. Taking in every battle wound with idle curiosity, my focus caught on my right forearm.
Two scabbed puncture holes remained over my wrist where my green veins ran to the crook of my arm. My mind’s eye conjured up the image of the indents Drake’s teeth had created, pressure marks against my skin right after he’d bitten me. The glint in his eyes when he’d first tasted my blood, and then how fast and strong he’d become when it had healed him.
A shiver shook my shoulders despite the house’s warm temperature. From the mirror, I watched the red of embarrassment spread from my chest and up my neck. It was so stupid to indulge in the memory since it couldneverhappen again.
Pushing the romanticized thoughts from my mind, I patted my body dry, and the humid moisture from my shower almost made me break into a sweat. Winston’s borrowed sweatshirt was luxuriously baggy across my broad shoulders, but the waistband of the pants had to be hiked up to my waist to sit comfortably above my wide hips.
Cooler air hit my face when I left the bathroom, leaving the ruined dress behind in the wastepaper basket. The woolen socks on my feet kept my steps down the stairs silent as I followed the smell of coffee through the quiet house. At the end of the hall, another three doors were closed to the right, but the kitchen was immediately to the left.
Crisp morning air permeated the space, smelling like pine needles, and I inhaled deeply. Glancing around the kitchen, I raised my eyebrows, impressed by the stainless steel appliances and marble countertop. Goofy slogans were strung up on the walls, and I smirked atThere’s no ‘I’ in ‘team’ but there is in ‘kitchen.’
Smiling, my attention landed on the empty cup beside the coffee pot—right next to a ceramic plate with the most heavenly-looking sandwich I’d ever set my eyes on. I was already salivating before pulling off the Saran wrap, and poured myself a tall cup of coffee while simultaneously digging into the Italian bread holding together tomato, lettuce, salami and ham.
A moan rumbled in my chest while I chewed fast to swallow and take another bite. The sandwich was half-engulfed by the time I took a swig from my coffee. I swore I couldfeelmyneurons firing in bliss. As my chewing slowed, I registered the voices filtering in from the cracked-open window over the sink.
The deep timbre to Winston’s words trailed off, and the soothing sound of Drake’s light Eastern European accent became discernible as he spoke an answer. Quickly swallowing my most recent bite, I moved closer to unapologetically eavesdrop.
Winston said, “Definitely explains why I haven’t heard from you in almost a week. Had the bed all made up and fresh pig’s blood in the fridge just for you. Ended up using it to makeblodpudding, sorry about that.”
“Plans had changed,” Drake replied, and then inhaled deeply. Cigarette smoke drifted on the breeze, and my shoulders sagged. It didn’t smell like the same brand Ethan smoked, but close enough to be a painful reminder of the distance between here and home.
“Clearly.” Winston’s reply was dry, expecting to hear more. I stood on my tiptoes to get closer to the window.
“Aiden intervened, as he is wont to do without consulting me.” Bitterness tinged Drake’s voice, but a certain amount of acceptance tempered it. “He manipulated Maria into finding me before I could make the crossing. I had been awaiting Aiden to bring me the weapon he promised. Which he delivered through Maria, much to her misfortune.”
The orb, I guessed. I leaned over the sink, careful not to get my borrowed sweatshirt wet while I strained to hear more.
