Pretend With Me (Midnight Society #1) (16 page)

He smiled trying to comfort me. “I understand
completely. Eric should not have said those things, it was
horrible... the entire situation was horrible.”

“I hit him,” I said mostly to myself. I was never a
violent person. I’ve never fought anyone like this in my
life, not until now. Who was I becoming? I could barely
recognize myself. I didn't know what or who I was
anymore. After Daren's death I'd lost myself but
somewhere along the line, while being with Eric and his
family I'd begun to see myself again. It was slow, but it was
progress nevertheless. And now in a few hours I was back
to being totally lost and confused, maybe even more lost
than I'd been before. Once again I was blindly stumbling
around in the dark.

“But that wasn’t you,” he said and pulled the cast away
freeing my hand. “How does your hand feel, any pain?”
He held my hand and began rotating my wrist this way and
that.

“No,” I shook my head. “What do you mean it wasn’t
me?”
“It was Eric’s blood. You’re used to a weaker, smaller
version of it. But Katalin gave you almost thirty times what
you’re used to. Our blood is very powerful and the thing
is, with our blood in a human it may take a while to take
effect but once it does, it fuels and strengthens everything
in the body. Your emotions where... is still heightened.
Eric knew that, you didn’t.”
I frowned letting it sink in. “So that’s what this is..?” I
wondered. I was overwhelmed. I felt anger and hate
towards Eric - there was so much hatred for him that I still
wanted to beat him. Just thinking about it made me so
mad all over again. Inside I wanted to rip him apart yet at
the same time I felt unbearable sadness and guilt. I was at
fault too. Eric was right; we'd agreed to talk to each other.
And as if that wasn't enough, there was also the thought
that I didn't know who I was anymore circling me.
Suddenly I was going to become a vampire. I was engaged
to marry one. My head was swimming with these thoughts.
It was overwhelming and I just wanted to scream. “I feel
like I'm about to burst,” I admitted. “Is it like this for all...
of you?”
“Naturally everything about us is intensified so when
we hurt... we hurt in a way no human could ever
understand. It's unbearable...”
I thought about that for a long while and could only
come up with one thought. “How do you find the courage
to continue then?” I whispered looking up at him.
“It’s quite simple really,” he smiled as if he was about
to let me know some ancient secret. “When we’re
heartbroken... it’s like our world - ourselves - nothing is
worth it anymore. Everything is broken around us, it all
goes dark and cold, and all that's left of us is fractions of
what we once were. But when we love, it’s amazing. Our
entire universe is overwhelmed with life... When we hurt,
we hurt terribly Jenifer... but when we love... there aren’t
words for when we love...” He let out a small light chuckle.
“In time you’ll grow accustomed to it,” he smiled and
placed my hand on my lap. “Everything is fine. All the
bones are in place, your hand has healed completely.”
“Katalin broke my hand and then held it in place, why
did she do that?” I asked staring at my hand. It felt light
without the cast. As if at any moment it would float up and
fly away.
“Healing is faster and less painful with a clean break.”
I nodded. “So all this time... all my life, Eric’s blood has
been keeping me alive... It’s been him all along, constantly
healing me?” He nodded looking at me. “Wouldn't his
blood have healed my wrist too?” I wondered. I mean if it
could treat my illness then what was a damaged wrist? Dr.
Wilson only nodded. “So why did you leave me in the cast?
You didn’t know I wasn’t taking the pills...”
“You didn’t know what the pills were; you didn’t know
what we are either. It was about keeping up a human
appearance.”
“My parents…” I hesitated, swallowing. “Do they
know about you and…” I trailed off, not knowing how to
phrase it. “About all of this...?”
“No, and hopefully they’ll never have to find out.” I
nodded, relieved. I never wanted my parents to find out
about these things, or about the ‘medication’ they’ve been
giving me my entire life.
I opened my mouth to ask another question, but was
stopped when a soft knock on the door echoed through
the room. Both of us turned at the same time to find Eric
standing in the doorway. Dr. Wilson turned to me, “I’ll
leave you two to talk,” he stressed making it clear that all
we were to do was talk. He then got up and left the room.
Eric shuffled into the room and a strong stench of
blood followed him. I was sure that when he’d left the
house there was no blood on him, and my heart picked up
immediately. “Why is there blood on you?” I asked.
“Don’t worry, Jen, I haven't been murdering people,”
he sneered bitterly. He shrugged out of his jacket and my
breath caught. Instantly I stood up wanting to go to him.
Instead I forced myself to stay where I was. Most of his
shirt was covered in blood. It was fresh, still wet and
clinging to his skin. What had happened to him?
“What do you mean?” I asked forcing myself to focus
on what he’d said. It didn’t make sense.
“Isn’t that what we do, kill people?” he sneered
mockingly. I felt myself take a step, but stopped when I
saw his eyes. They were bitter, angry, and filled with
loathing.
“What are you talking about, Eric?”
“Are you trying to tell me that for one second you
didn’t think that?” He began walking to me slowly.
“No,” I answered honestly at once.
I felt his hands on my shoulders and he pressed me
back against something, a wall. It took me a few seconds
for my brain to catch up with his fast movements. He had
spun us around and now we were at the far end of the
room directly opposite the bed. “And I suppose that
you’re not afraid of me right now?” he growled, as his blue
eyes suddenly became so intense that they burned brighter
before me, almost glowing and lighting up like a blue bulb
on a Christmas tree.
I swallowed and then forced myself to take a breath.
“No,” I said. “I’m not.” It was just clicking in my head that
since Katalin had told me the truth, I had never been
afraid of him. I had been lost and pissed off, but never
scared of him.
“Bullshit,” he breathed out in a low whisper. His breath
washed over my face and I breathed in his scent. Even
now, covered in blood and angry at me I wanted to kiss
him. A fire burned in my throat and I urged to pull his face
to mine. I yearned to reach out to him, rip the horrible
blood filled shirt off and hug him, never letting him go. I
bit my lip to stop myself from doing just that.
The feeling was unjustifiably strong, and I couldn’t
make sense of it. Somehow I was suddenly filled with lust
and desire. It felt like all throughout this night, that was
what I was doing - feeling things that I could not explain.
When would it stop and start making sense again?
I forced myself to concentrate. I swallowed making
sure that my voice was steady. “I’m not afraid of you,
Eric.” Without thinking I grabbed onto the ends of his
shirt, not caring about the blood. “I know you won’t hurt
me. I’m not afraid of you,” my voice was hard, confident,
and knowing.
“You should be,” he whispered, his breath brushing my
face again making me want him even more. Every cell in
my body ached for him to touch me. The feeling was more
than a want; it had crossed that line long ago. I needed him
now.
Eric swallowed and then dropped his hands from the
sides of my face where they'd been caging me in. He
started backing away now and the further he got was the
more alone and cold I felt. It was like I was losing him, like
he was going away and never coming back. My hands fell
loosely at my side.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Eric,” I whispered, desperately
wanting to reach out and hold him. He couldn’t leave me,
if I was clinging to him.
“Hurt me?” he snorted. “Jen, you completely destroyed
me. Sorry doesn’t begin to compensate!” he shouted. I
closed my eyes and tears rolled down my face. When I
reopened them, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his
head in both of his hands. I didn’t respond, there was
nothing I could say to make it better. The loud silence
stretched on for what seemed like forever.
“Look,” he sighed loudly, “trying to be friends... isn't
working. You don't want this wedding and there is no way
we can get out of it. I'll leave you alone from now on and
you'll do the same... We won't have to see each other until
we absolutely have to, so I guess I'll see you on our
wedding day.” Then finally Eric got off the bed, heading
for the door.
“Eric...” I trailed off not sure what I wanted to say. He
stopped but didn’t turn to me.
“What is it now, Jen?” he asked tired. Guilt and sadness
flooded me, but the most potent emotion in me was the
overwhelming thought that he was leaving me. That I was
losing him... and how could I blame him for leaving me?
It was me, I was doing this to him, yet I couldn’t stop
it. I couldn’t stop feeling what I was. I wished I could but
my feelings for Daren... my feelings about this wedding, it
was too strong. I couldn’t stop it or change it.
“That’s what I thought,” he said bitterly and then left
the room. The door clicked shut behind him like an
explosion and it left the room engulfed in an ear-piercing,
loud silence that were like knives and razor blades cutting
into my flesh.
I closed my eyes and slowly slid to the floor. For the
first time since that night, I wished for the darkness to
overtake me. I listened to myself breathing, it was steady
and slow, yet at the same time uneven and aching. I don’t
know how long I stayed like this. I didn’t even know when
I had started to cry, but sometime during the night tears
began to run down my cheeks. I didn’t make a move to
wipe them away, I was too afraid that I would shatter and
crumple without the hope of being put back together. I
only took the chance to move when the tears had stopped,
and even then all my movements were slow and hesitant.
I didn’t sleep, not for a second. My thoughts kept going
to Eric, wondering if he was going to walk through the
door, even though I knew he wasn’t coming back. I kept
thinking about where he was exactly, which room in the
giant house, or if he even was in the house at all. All those
other times when I was pissed, he had always been there.
He had apologized when he did nothing wrong because he
knew I was hurting. Now it was my turn, only I couldn’t
do what he wanted. I couldn’t force myself to like that I
was marrying him against my will. How could I?
As soon as the sun was up, I got out of the bed, got
myself dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and then headed
downstairs in search of Eric. It was time to make things
right. Even though it was only hours into the morning,
everyone was in full swing. It was like a replay of yesterday
except now workers were rebuilding walls, taking down
decorations; replacing the furniture and all that.
I searched the entire house for Eric, but he was
nowhere. Even the workers hadn't seen him. It was
frustrating. I had finally decided I was going to play nice
and at least try to make our stupid marriage seem healthy
and sane, something Eric had wanted since the beginning
and now I couldn’t find him.
After hours of going around in circles and asking the
workers if they'd seen him, I finally gave up and decided to
wait for him in his room. I figured that at some point Eric
would have to crawl out of whatever hole he was hiding in
and return to his bedroom.
Just as I was about to open the door to Eric’s room, I
heard Christy screaming. Immediately, I dropped my hand
from the doorknob and went to her room standing outside
the door hesitantly.
“No!” Christy screamed at someone. “I don’t want it!”
I knocked on the door and it opened slightly revealing a
completely different room from the one I'd seen yesterday.
Everything was disorganized and chaotic. The room was in
a mess. There were clothes thrown everywhere, some
shredded and dumped in a corner. Toys, most of them
shattered and broken laid about scattered. It looked like a
mini tornado had blown apart the room.
“Miss Christy, please,” a round, shapely woman with
bright red hair begged holding up a clean dress. From the
looks of things, Christy didn't want to clean herself up. She
was still in the dress she wore last night, a frilly baby blue
dress that was stained with what could only be food.
“No,” Christy yelled back, “you can’t make me.” She
stomped her foot on the ground and folded her arms over
her chest turning away from the lady.
“Miss Christy, you-” the woman began but stopped
when she saw me standing in the doorway. “Miss Jenifer,”
she curtsied instantly. I stepped into the room about to ask
what was happening, but at the same time Christy turned
to face me, her mouth growing sad and small. Her eyes
turned glassy and filled with tears right away.
“Hey Christy,” I smiled walking up to her, kneeling to
her level. I stretched my hands out to her, but she stepped
away from me immediately. Tiny crystal-like tears fell from
her glassy eyes and my heart gave an aching, painful echo
in my chest. My hands dropped to my sides. “Why are you
crying?” I asked sending her the most comforting smile I
could manage. “What’s wrong?”
“Jenifer...” she sniffed her lower lip trembling. “Do you
hate me now?” her voice was innocent and child-like. I felt
horrible inside. Just when I thought I couldn’t feel any
more heart broken than I already felt the Wilsons had a
way of proving how wrong I could be.
“Of course not, Christy” I answered at once, appalled
that she would even think that. “Why... why do you think
that?”
“Eric...” she cried unable to continue. I was lost now. I
looked up at the woman towering over me and instantly
understanding what I wanted, she curtsied and seconds
later left the room silently. As soon as the door shut, I
turned back to Christy. She was still crying, staring at me
with sad, big puppy eyes.
Any more of this emotional intensity crap and I would
literally die. How could one person survive after so much
pain? I got up, took her hand and led her to the bed. “Tell
me, why you think I hate you?” I asked wiping her eyes.
“Eric said so,” she sniffed. I was shocked. I felt my
breathing stop. How could he say that? How could he hurt
his little sister so much? “You hate us now... because you
know... you know we’re pureblood.”
New tears rolled down her face and I wanted so badly
to wipe them away, I wanted to grab her tightly and tell her
that no matter what I could never hate her, but I couldn’t
move. I was frozen in place by pure anger for Eric and
grief for Christy.
“Please, Jenifer,” she begged grabbing my hand tightly.
“Please don’t hate me. I love you so much and I’m not
bad. Vampires aren’t bad, Jenifer. Please don’t hate me. I’ll
be good, I promise you, I’ll be good. I won’t be a
pureblood anymore. Jenifer, I’ll change,” she begged.