Page 12 of Night of the Vampire
"So I can just leave anytime I want."
"Yes, absolutely."
"I can just leave and have free will and do whatever the fuck I want," he mocked with his back toward me. "Live where I want. Hang out with who I want, and never come back to this coven. Or to you."
No. No, he couldn't do that. I met his eyes as he slowly turned around to face me.
His mouth twisted in disgust when he saw the answer on my face. "That's what I thought."
"I did the right thing," I told him. But I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince more—him, or myself.
"How many times are we gonna go over this, Killian?"
I didn't have an answer.
In three steps he was all up in my face. "You saved my life. Twice. I'm damn grateful for the first time, which is the only reason I'm still around for the second." He paused, his black eyes searching mine as they pleaded for me to understand. "You can free me, Killian. One way or the other. Because God knows I don't have the balls to do it myself."
My stomach clenched at the thought. "I can't do that, Jamal. Shite. You know I can't do that."
"Which one?"
"Either." The truth burst from me before I could stop it.
He stared at me a moment more before he laughed, the sound ugly and harsh. "Of course, you can't, because it's all about you. It's always all about you." His eyes were full of disdain as he ran them up and down my body. "I'm going to work," he said. "Somebody's got to bring some money in around here."
I didn't miss the dig, but I refused to react to it. If it wasn't for me, the club wouldn't exist. And neither would the wealth this coven had accrued by various means over the years. Money had nothing to do with it.
His long legs ate up the distance to the front door.
"Jamal."
He stopped walking, sighing dramatically as his head fell back on his shoulders. Like he was a teenager dealing with a strict parent. It really rubbed me raw, this charade, but playing into it would only encourage the behavior. Just like a child.
He stared at the ceiling. "What."
"Tell the guys..." I stopped. Recalibrated. "Tell the guys, I think the woman you found can help Kenya." I didn't know what I was trying to do. Give him some accolades, maybe. Something to feel good about.
Cool as a cucumber, he looked back at me and touched his tongue to the tip of one fang before he asked, "You gonna make her a prisoner, too? Because that's the only way you're gonna be able to convince a witch to help one of us." With one last hard look, he strode out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
"You're not a prisoner, dammit!" I called after him. I swear to all that was holy, my back ached from the weight he laid on me every time we had this conversation.
I stood there in the hallway of that run down house for a long time, staring at the water-stained walls. Was Jamal right? Had I taken him from one form of slavery only to force him into another?
But I immediately shook my head. No. No, it wasn't the same. I didn't beat him. I didn't make him pick cotton or tobacco. I didn't whip him for waking up late. I had helped him escape all of that. Gave him food and water and clothes and shelter. And when he was able to keep going, I guided him north where he would be safe.
And when I'd saved him again years later, after I had been reborn and we'd renewed our friendship, he'd been dying. After everything I'd done for him, all that I had risked for him, he'd gotten into a fight he couldn't win. What was I supposed to have done? Just leave him to die?
I took a deep breath. No. I'd hadn't saved his life just for him to snuff it out like that. Being alive, even as a vampire, was so much better than being dead.
Apparently, however, Jamal disagreed. He'd made that very clear to me from the moment he'd woken up, horrified he craved blood. I thought, over time, he'd accept what he was now. I was wrong.
I heard his car engine rev and then fade as he drove away. I hoped he would take my advice and feed tonight, despite his inherent need to rebel against anything I suggested. It was the entire reason we owned the club. It wasn't for the money. It was so we could feed without drawing attention to ourselves. If we fed anywhere else, it would break our pact with the witches. My vampires danced at the club. And when the ladies wanted a little private action, they paid for it with a little blood and a hell of a good time. They left happy. We got the sustenance we needed. The witches left us alone. And we provided them with a little added protection when asked. It was a win-win situation all around.
Except when one of them—or one of us—got out of line.
I walked down to the little kitchen to make Kenya some tea. As I waited for the water to heat, Jamal's words spun round and round in my head. In the darkest hours of my life, I had to admit he was right about one thing. I'd turned him so I wouldn't be alone. So I would have a friend. An eternity of watching everyone you knew grow old and die was not a future I'd looked forward to. And I hadn't bothered to ask him if he wanted the same thing.
Just like you're not going to ask Lizzy what she wants.
