Page 6 of Sleepless Beauties
“Stop talking,” he says in the rasp of a breath. Barely a whisper.
“Just fucking tell me!”
In the skip of a heartbeat he’s in my face. His inky hair fans into place as he breathes down against my lips. His eyes darken, their pale blue is stained with emotion and blood in his gaze. Long fingers snatch a hold of my jaw and he makes sure my eyes are locked on to the violence contained within his.
“I. Said. Stop. Talking.”
His teeth are bared to me, his fangs flashing out. His breath beats down on my tongue as I stare up at the man who I once thought was my sister’s boyfriend.
And he won’t tell me that she’s fine. She’s okay.
She’s alive…
“She’s dead.” I blink up at him, unable to fully close my mouth as I try to bring air into my lungs with shaking breaths.
His hold on my face loosens. The bright red color in his gaze seeps out and the bitter blue comes right back. A lost look lingers there. It reflects my own sense of misplacement.
“She’s dead…again.” My voice shatters on those words.
My heart hurts, but for some reason the pain isn’t as breaking as it was the first time around.
Or maybe it is.
“Stop… stop crying,” he whispers.
I blink, and wetness clings to my lashes as silent tears streak down my face. Tears I wasn’t even aware of until now.
And then his hand slides down my neck, across my shoulder, down my arm. His cool touch rests along the back of my hand. But he doesn’t hold me. He doesn’t embrace me in his arms and try to smother my sadness with his affection.
He lets me feel every cutting emotion.
It’s not at all like it was the first time she died.
“Why couldn’t she just stay dead!?” I scream the words out. They’re a secret thought I’ve whispered a thousand times in my own head.
“Why? Why couldn’t she leave me blissfully unaware of…. YOU!?” I shove the vampire’s hand away and he lets me go without a struggle. “Fucking vampires! Why? Why couldn’t you just leave her dead? Why… why did you give me her grief…twice?” I stutter out the last word as I slam my fist into his chest.
His subtle exhale is the only indication I hit him at all.
I hit him again against the solid build of his unnatural body, and he lets me. He just takes it. Again. And again. And again.
Until the sobs stuck in my throat creep out and I fall forward from the pressure it releases in my heart. I slump forward, and he doesn’t react. My tears bleed into his shirt. The light feel of his fingers along my back are hesitant at first, but then his palms smooth down my spine and he holds me like he’s the only thing that’s keeping me from collapsing from the force of too much anger and sadness… and guilt.
He picks me up for the second time in one day, but this time he’s sweeping me off my feet and cradling me against him. Flawless steps, barely moving my body at all bring us to my bed and he places me in the middle. He curls up behind me, his arms still wrapped around me in an intimate way that calms my heart.
But that’s not what I want from him.
I don’t want him here.
He hates my kind.
How dare he try to twist his hatred into something it’ll never be.
“Get out.” I say it so quietly it barely leaves my lips, but I know he hears me.
He releases me slowly. Space suddenly feels colder against my back as he moves further away on the bed.
“Get out of my room.”
