Blinding Light (The Bloodmarked Trilogy Book 2) (6 page)

“No, you’re not that bad.” He leaned down to whisper the rest. “In fact, you can be very nice when you want to be.”

His ice blue eyes melted into the liquid fire that has always been incredibly dangerous to my hormones. There were so many cringe-worthy responses sparkling in those blue flames, and I knew he had it in him to rise to the occasion.

Instead, the warmth cooled and he turned away to lie down on the hard floor. He must have been pretty wiped out if he wasn’t willing to toe the line between flirting and full disclosure.

Feeling a rare form of nice, I changed the subject. “You can have the bed if you want it. I think you’ve been through enough the past few days.”

Without hesitation, he replied, “Lucille, take the damn bed. We’ve both been through a lot. And don’t argue with me about it like I know you’re dying to.”

So it was Lucille again. He tended to use my full name when he was all business, and it was Ms. Masters when he was bossing me around. He eased down onto his back and settled in under the blankets, folding his arms behind his head. He met my gaze.

“Now who’s the bitchy one?” It wasn’t my fault I liked to argue. It was that damned tone of his that made me want to. If he weren’t so domineering, we’d get along splendidly. For the most part.

He smiled at my response but let it drop and closed his eyes. Wow. I think hell just froze over. He didn’t even try to sneak in the last word. He really was more drained than he let on. I flipped off the light and decided that maybe we were both taking baby steps toward a more mature relationship. Or partnership. Or whatever it was.

I kicked off my boots and quickly stripped out of my pants before sliding into the bed. I briefly glimpsed the streetlights reflecting off his eyes and saw something raw there. And I knew from past experience that this vertigo sensation was a product of the connection between us, allowing me to feel what he was feeling. I could have passed it off as my own desire if not for that telltale sign.

Well, I guess that answered the recurring question of whether or not he wanted me. The jury was still out on the deeper stuff, though. But I was not thinking about this anymore. Nope, done with the headaches tonight. Nothing but me and this oh so wonderful bed.

I was half asleep when his tired voice drifted up to me. “Goodnight, Lucy.” And we were back to Lucy again, huh? Even through the exhaustion, I could tell he was smiling, clearly amused by something.

“What’s so funny?” I asked warily, not prepared to delve into another argument.

“Just you… surrounded by all that bubblegum pink. I never see you wear pink, and now you’re cocooned in it. It’s so girly and…”

“You can shut up now.”

“Cute,” he finished. “It’s adorable, really.”

“I like you a lot better when you’re unconscious,” I said dryly.

“That’s not true, and I like you better in pink,” he teased.

“No, you don’t,” I said.

He grew quiet, and I thought he fell asleep. Then, he added, “You’re right. I like you in dark grey much better.”

Dark grey? When had I worn dark grey? When I thought he would say more, I waited. I waited until I heard his breathing level out. Then, I fell asleep.

†

I shot straight up, clutching the blanket. My breathing was heavy, but not because I suffered from oxygen deprivation. Not an issue anymore. Apparently, even vampires had nightmares. And this particular one was especially brutal, because it was a memory. It really happened.

I killed a man. I killed a human being.

Gavin was at my side instantly. “Lucy, what is it? What’s wrong?” His arms encircled me, and his hand lifted to my face. Gently, he tilted it back until I met his concerned stare.

I tried squeezing my eyes shut against the tears, but it was useless. They were wrenched free, along with the rest of my nightmare.

“I killed him,” I confessed. “He was only trying to help me and I killed him.” My eyes went from a steady leak to faucets turned up to full blast. “Guess the monster finally came out to play,” I spat, my self-loathing returning with a vengeance.

“No, Lucy, you’re not a monst-,”

“Look at me!” I whisper shouted. “How did I become this way? He’s dead because of me,” I said, dipping my head in shame.

“Who, Lucy? Who did you kill?” His forehead creased in worry and his brows pinched together.

“The man in the street.”

Gavin’s fingers ghosted over my frown lines, intent on comforting me, but I was trapped in the memory. My mouth switched to autopilot and continued to reminisce. “The assassin… He stabbed me in the back. Literally. I was in so much pain, and I couldn’t heal. I remembered I just wanted it to end. But then, something else took hold. I yearned for something I couldn’t name.”

He listened attentively and nodded for me to keep going.

“I… I heard his heartbeat and smelled him when he came near. I tried to stop him, but he wanted to help me. That’s when my fangs made their debut appearance, and I knew. I knew what I would do and couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t want to at that point. I wanted to drain him. I wanted to kill him. And I did,” I sobbed and couldn’t speak anymore.

He held me tightly while the tremors racked me. “Lucy, how do you know you killed him? Did you see him die in front of you?”

My gaze shot to his, gaging whether or not he was serious. I knew what I did. There was no way he could have lived. I took a lot of blood. “I didn’t need to see it happen. I was too far gone into the transformation, but when I saw him after I… after I bit him, he was so pale, and his breathing was shunted. There’s no way.”

“Yes, there is a way. Because he is alive.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. Lucy, I know he’s fine because you would know if he died with absolute certainty. You remember that you’re different, right?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Well, you would be able to feel if he perished. You were born of the Light, Lucy. Light is energy and connects all things. Other vampires aren’t connected because they are Dark, and when you’re in the dark, you’re just stumbling around aimlessly.”

He wasn’t making much sense, but something in his voice rang true. “You felt his emotions, didn’t you?” When I nodded, he continued. “Well, by drinking his blood, you made a connection with him. His energy passed to you, so a part of him is in you.”

Well, that sounded weird and kind of creepy. “So does that mean I’m going to feel what he feels all the time?” I thought of the other guy from the supermarket. Was I going to feel him too? I could barely handle my own emotional baggage. I didn’t need to manage anyone else’s.

“No. Connections made with humans are much weaker because their… life force, if you will, is much more fragile. Nothing like a vampire’s. You will only be aware of it when they pass.”

That made sense. Sort of. I was willing to accept anything these days. Relief washed through me knowing the man was still alive. But then, something else occurred to me.

“So that’s how you do it? From my blood. When you… saved my mom. That explains this freaky connection and how you can always read my mind.”

He chuckled. “I can’t actually read your mind. Can you read mine?”

“No, thank God. I’m not sure I want to spend time in that big head. I’d get lost.”

“Very funny. We can feel what the other feels and, sometimes, are so attuned to the other we can even sense where the other is.”

“Huh. So that’s how you always seemed to show up out of nowhere when I was in trouble. You don’t think that information was important enough to share say, I don’t know, like a few months ago?”

He flashed a wicked grin. I wanted to slap him. “Not without telling you the whole sordid story and risk you killing me. And let’s face it. You would be devastated if I was gone.”

“Hmm, I think your ego would save you. It’s so big it’s impenetrable.”

“I don’t think I have an ego. I really don’t know where you’re getting that from.”

“And I don’t think I have anger issues.”

He smiled wider but wisely kept his mouth shut.

“Wait a second,” I said. “If you can always feel what I’m feeling, why doesn’t it always work the other way around? Why does it only come every once in a while?”

“Because I can hide my emotions better than you can,” he said innocently, which earned him a pink pillow in the face. And it was definitely no girly hit.

“You are going to show me how to block them. Soon,” I demanded.

He laughed. “Well, all it takes is a level of calm. If you don’t have anger issues like you say, then it shouldn’t be a problem for you,” he said sweetly.

He dodged the pillow this time. Barely. When he observed my expression, he doubled over in quiet laughter.

“We should try to get some sleep tonight and head out first thing.”

“You really can walk in the sun, can’t you?” I asked.

“Impressed?”

“You only have the capacity to annoy me, not impress me.”

“Yeah, you’re impressed. You’ve always been awed by my badassness.”

“Wow, ego check, Gavin. Badassness? Really?”

“You’re starting to rub off on me. And it’s not ego when it’s true. And before you try to deny it, I can sense your admiration, remember? Among other things.”

“Ok, first of all, shut up. And secondly, you wish I would rub off on you,” I said seductively to try and unnerve him like he always did to me.

“Very mature, Lucille. Haven’t I always told you not to be distracted by sex?”

“Yes, but maybe you should take your own advice. You may be good at blocking me, but that connection is a two way street. And don’t get all high and mighty, preaching to me about maturity when you always rise to the occasion. Your thoughts are every bit as immature as mine, but you have this knack for playing the maturity card when we get too close to the truth.”

“The truth about what, Lucy?”

“You know exactly what truth I’m talking about. And one of these days we will have to have a
mature
conversation about the truth. But not tonight because I’m tired, and you’ve already wasted too much of my beauty rest.”

I turned away from him, flipping on my side, but not before I caught the smile he was trying so hard to hide.

“Goodnight, Lucille,” he said all too sweetly.

Ugh!

He still had to have the last word, and he was using my full name to get under my skin. But all this talk about maturity made me want to prove that I was the bigger person. So I bit my lip and let him keep the last word, even though my middle finger was poised directly beneath the covers.

†

When I woke the next morning, a sliver of pale light filtered through the window blinds. It was the light before the sun broke free of the horizon. I must have only gotten a few hours of sleep, but I was refreshed and ready to go.

Aside from the growing hunger. My head pounded in sync with the sound of Clint’s heartbeat, and I had to force myself to focus on other things.

The floor was empty, and the makeshift bed had converted back into a pile of folded blankets sitting on the miniature desk chair by the window.

“Gavin?” I whispered.

The low snicker came from the main living area. “I’m in the kitchen waiting on you, Sleeping Beauty,” he responded in an amused whisper.

I crawled out of bed and reached for my jeans. When I pulled them up, I spied the color of grey in my peripherals. My bikini bottoms were grey.

Dark grey
. Interesting.

When I met him in the kitchen, I was fully dressed and ready to go but had no clue where we were going. Presently, I knew we had to get somewhere fast before I took a bite out of our gracious host. As if on cue, Clint’s alarm went off, but before he could silence it, we were already out the door, locking it behind us.

We walked side by side down the street. Gavin asked me about my time after I woke up. I told him how long it took before I came to, and I told him about Emily and the guy at the supermarket. He listened intently. Only a few times did his empathy leak through our connection. His eyes never once shown with anything but concern.

I wasn’t sure what I expected to see. Maybe disgust. But then, I remembered that he took a similar path in life. I didn’t know the details, but I knew he’s also done things he regrets.

I told him about my visit with Holly’s dad and how the cops wanted me gone. He agreed that we both needed to get out of town, but he suggested going to his place first for supplies.

†

“Hello, Mr. West,” said a very cheery Gregory. It was the same front desk man that has developed a longstanding dislike of me. I thought I was growing on him.

Gavin had his arm around my shoulder as we strolled past him. In a much less excited tenor, he regarded me. “Miss Masters.”

“Gregory,” I replied in the haughty tone I reserved solely for him. Gavin squeezed my shoulders harder.

“Be nice,” he whispered in my ear.

“Hey, you said it yourself, I’m only nice when I want to be. And that ‘tude of his isn’t exactly making me want it bad enough.”