Chapter Twenty-seven – Jack
Chapter Twenty-seven
Jack
The next night I went out wearing black to an EDM club. I wanted to be in a crush of humanity, one with an entire crowd, and I wanted the music to be loud enough to drown out all my thoughts.
I’ve learned since then that fate likes to fuck with vampires who get fresh blood.
“You!” Paco spotted me as I walked in, just as I scented him, in the hallway to the club itself. He walked up and fiercely punched my shoulder. “What the fuck? I thought you were dead!”
I didn’t rock under his punch, but a mortal man would’ve. He stared at me in anger, but his face went stony as he realized what he’d said.
“I only knew you weren’t because I saw some video of you rescuing some lady’s kid on the news this morning. Is that what you’ve been doing without me?”
“No,” I said, my voice low. My whole body was reacting to his presence, the way he smelled, the way I knew his skin would feel if I could only touch it. “I’m going,” I said, and turned away.
“Don’t you dare,” he said, grabbing my arm.
I yanked it away. “Don’t touch me,” I said, though I wanted nothing more. I was a monster, hadn’t I proven it to myself?
He looked wounded. “Jack, what’d I do wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Then where’ve you been?” He reached for me again and I pulled back, shaking my head.
“Things are complicated, Paco.”
He stood directly in front of me, forcing me to look at him. “Other things are, maybe. But not me.”
I swallowed. Each time I tried to go, the look in his eyes kept me there. He reached for me again, more slowly, and I couldn’t stop him, didn’t want to stop him, as he rested one hand on my chest, over my heart, where I wondered if he could feel its unearthly flutter. “It’s okay if you bite me.”
His words hit me like hail and I pushed his hand away. “No.”
“It’s all I’ve thought about since you left—how much I wish I’d said yes when I had the chance—if that would’ve kept you near….”
“It’s not safe to be with me, Paco. I’ve done bad things—and I’ll do them again.”
“Jack,” he said, chastising me.
“No, let me finish. I die every morning. I need to feed most nights.” I stared into his eyes, willing him to believe, wanting him to be the one to run. “I am not alive, Paco. Nothing can change that.”
His eyes searched mine. “You’re wrong.”
I wanted with all my heart to tell him to prove it—because I desperately wanted proof of it.
I’d almost killed a guard—I’d been tempted to kill a child.
But I couldn’t encourage him like that, to make him think there was any way he could keep me—even though I couldn’t leave.
The only thing I knew for sure is that it was the remains of my humanity that made me hope against hope.
And perhaps seeing that in my eyes, Paco grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the next room.
The beat obliterated everything else, just like I’d wanted it to.
We were at the back of a wall of people, but Paco pulled me through, snaking us forward until we were in the middle of the mob, people waving glow sticks as lights strobed and fog released, like there were giant laser breathing dragons on either side of the DJ’s stage.
It was almost impossible not to move, everyone in the room was rocking like the beat was a commandment from God—but I stood still, in the field of people dancing like lunatics, arms waving overhead, screaming their delight at each new twist of a dial.
Paco leaned against me, his body fitting mine, me stopping myself from straining toward him, as he whispered. “You’re still alive. I know it,” he said, and moved to the side, brushing himself against me.
Nerves lit up like wildfire, up and down my body, and heat flooded my belly. “Paco,” I protested.
“I know you, Jack,” he said, grinding up against me in time to the beat, pulling his hips to mine. I swayed with him, letting him make my body flow. “You’re more alive than I am. Don’t you feel it when you’re with me?”
I couldn’t lie—I did. From the moment I’d first seen him at that bar, him challenging my perception of myself, up through the way I didn’t kill that security guard. Without Paco there would’ve been no one to prove my humanity too, no reason to have held back.
The weight of that realization pressed on me as he did.
His lips met mine, and I let myself kiss him ravenously, feeling both my cock and my hunger ache, then I pulled back, pressing my forehead to his.
If Rosalie was right and I wasn’t human, then I wouldn’t feel bad about murdering Tamo.
If Rosalie was wrong, and I was still too-human—then I would do what I had to, to protect the man I loved.
“Give me two weeks,” I told him, whispering into his ear as his hands slid up my back.
“Why?”
“For me to figure something out. Meet me back here.” I stepped away from him, sidling back through the crowd until he disappeared.