Chapter 14
Fourteen
TALULLA
“Bunica, the man is scaring me,” I say, my voice sounding young, too young.
I’m me, but not really. I turn to my left and catch my reflection in a mirror.
I’m a child. Not the Talulla that knows how to defend herself.
I can feel how small I am. My feet barely touch the floor, my hands too clumsy, too useless.
I hate this version of me—the one that can’t fight, can’t run fast enough, can’t do anything but watch.
I already know what’s coming. I always do. That’s the cruelest part.
“Talulla, go outside, right now. Call your Tata.”
A deep growl and red eyes. That’s all I see before he sinks his teeth into my grandmother’s throat, and a pair of hands cover my eyes.
The sound that comes out of me is a mix of terror and confusion.
It doesn’t sound human. It never does. It’s raw and ripped out of my chest, like something feral clawing its way free.
I try to pry the hands off my eyes, but I’m weak.
I’m always weak here. The smell of blood fills the air anyway—metallic, thick—and my stomach twists because even without seeing it, I know.
I’m taken away from the horror, but I can’t stop screaming. I never can’t stop screaming. If I stop, she will be gone again, and maybe this time I can do something, I can save her.
“Talulla, wake up,” a voice from far away tells me. But I can’t, if I do, she’ll die again.
“Bunico, fugi!” I can’t stop telling her to run, but she doesn’t. She remains still, and I lose her for the millionth time.
My body shakes, and a hard grip on my forearm grounds me, and my eyes shut wide open.
Feeling his touch brings me back to reality, to present day, to a place I know I don’t need to run away from.
The room comes back in pieces. Sheets. Darkness.
His scent—something warm and smoky that tells my body before my brain does that I’m not there anymore.
That I survived. That she didn’t, but I did.
“You’re safe,” Flynn says, tugging me close to him, and my body relaxes as it molds into his arms. I didn’t even realize I was shaking until he starts caressing my arms up and down.
“It’s okay, love, it’s okay, everything is okay.
” It’s humiliating how fast I fall apart in his arms. I’m supposed to be sharper than this.
Stronger. Instead, I cling as if I let go, I’ll slide right back into that kitchen, back into that mirror.
“What happened?” I ask, nestling my head on the crook of his neck.
“You were dreaming,” he starts, and sighs. “Screaming, actually.”
My eyes widen as I catch his words. Gosh, that’s so embarrassing.
Of all the things I’ve done—of all the blood and violence and near-death experiences—this is what makes my face burn.
Screaming in my sleep like a frightened kid.
Real badass reputation I’ve got going. “I’m so sorry, fangs, I didn’t mean to wake you—”
“You don’t have to apologize, bloody hell, you never have to apologize for something like that.” He tugs me even closer to his chest and presses soft kisses on my head. “
“But I woke you up…again.”
“Talulla, I’m already dead, it’s not gonna really do anything to me.”
“Right, so unfair that you don’t get dark circles.”
“Darling, it’s okay.”
“Still, I can’t believe I screamed.”
“Do you wanna talk about it? I feel these nightmares are getting worse, not better.”
I take a deep breath in because I gotta talk about it at some point, and maybe mentioning it nonchalantly could help me get it all out.
Or not. “It was my Bunica, my grandmother,” I tell him.
“The night she died.” The words feel heavier once they’re out.
Like I just dropped something fragile between us, and now we’re both pretending it didn’t crack.
He knows something happened to me, it’s pretty damn clear something happened, and I know he might have already put two and two together with the amount of nights I have spent restless.
“I kinda suspected it.” Of course he did.
He notices everything. That’s part of what makes him dangerous—and part of what makes him impossible to lie to for long.
I take a deep breath in. “I was there that night,” I say, shifting my weight and leaning against his shoulder.
“She was killed,” I state. “By a vampire.” I wait for something in myself to react.
Anger. Fear. Revulsion. Instead, there’s just…
emptiness. Maybe that should scare me more than anything else.
His eyes widen at the mention of my late grandmother and what I’ve just told him. “Did you see—”
I shake my head. “No, I kinda blocked that part out actually,” I say, focusing on his eyes.
He’s concerned for me. And I don’t understand why, it’s just a nightmare, and well, it’s not really news that I’ve seen people die at the hand of supernatural creatures.
I killed plenty of them as well. I’ve spent my life swimming in death.
Hers just happens to be the one that keeps resurfacing, bloated and gasping, no matter how hard I try to push it back under.
“I don’t really need to see the Original One to know what happened. ”
He breaks contact with me. “You’re certain it was him?”
I nod. “I just saw teeth for a split second, someone covered my eyes and brought me outside.”
“Who?”
I shrug. “I suppose my dad? I have no idea.”
Flynn props himself up against the headboard. “So you’ve never talked about it? Do you know what went down that night?”
That makes me laugh out loud. If I don’t laugh, I might scream again. And we’ve established how well that goes. “You mean with my father?”
“Is that so weird for me to ask?”
“It’s sweet you think my famous vampire hunter Eastern European father would, you know…talk to me instead of throwing me into a ring and kick my ass until I smelled every corner of the mat.”
The sound that comes out of him is more than animalistic. “And what about your mother?”
“What about her?”
“I thought you had a good relationship with her.”
“I did,” I say, then correcting myself. “I still do, she gave me plenty of affection, don’t you worry.”
His lips turn into a thin line. “I can’t help but worry.” His voice is too tight. Too careful. That’s when I realize this isn’t just concern—it’s restraint. He’s holding something back, and that scares me more than if he let it loose.
I tilt my head to the side, his breathing is getting faster and faster, he’s trying to calm himself and his jaw is tense, and I can’t help but prop myself up and sit on his lap.
My hands reach for his cheeks. I need to feel solid.
Real. Desired. Alive. If I stay still too long, my brain will betray me again.
“Flynn, I’m okay,” I say it like a spell, like if I repeat it enough times it might become true.
“You’re having nightmares about your dead grandmother.”
“It was bound to happen at some point,” I say, shrugging my shoulders, but still keeping my hands on his cheeks. “Unresolved trauma does that.”
“Tal—”
“The Original One killed her because of something my father did and that started a stupid obsession of him wanting to basically end vampirism, there’s nothing to talk about, Flynn. I know my father.”
“That’s what you think happened,” he tries to continue to get me to talk.
“There’s clearly more hidden that you need to get out for your own good.
” And I know he’s right, but right now I can’t think about it.
I don’t want to think about it. There will be a time when I open that door.
Just not tonight. Tonight, I need him more than I need answers.
“I don’t need the details, Flynn, I prefer not to imagine exactly how she got drained, thank you very much.
” Then, I dip my head down and brush my lips to his.
His arms close around me. This is what I do best. Turn pain into heat.
Turn memories into mouths and hands and anything that keeps me from thinking too hard.
My vampire can’t help but grunt as I press myself onto him even more. “Little hunter, you gotta stop whatever you’re doing.”
But I don’t. I need him to know I’m here, with him, and that I’m okay.
“I’m just kissing you, fangs,” I say, before closing my mouth on his once more.
He tastes like tea, and there’s a faint whiskey aftertaste that is giving me some sort of high.
His fangs brush my lips as his tongue plays with mine, and the moan I emit makes him grip my hair and gently pull, creating the perfect amount of pain as my core soaks in desire.
It’s ugly and needy and I don’t care. I need to feel wanted more than I need to feel healed.
“You know very well you’re not just doing that.
” His hands then grab my hips to make me stop moving.
Because I was indeed humping him. Not intentionally, but I apparently can’t stop doing so.
I look at his hands now strongly tightening on my thighs, and I can’t help but smirk and look back at him.
His eyes darken as I reach for the hem of my shirt and quickly take it off.
“I’m doing nothing.”
He growls, and then his mouth is on my nipples. His arms cage me in and he starts his feast. For a moment, I almost forget why we’re not supposed to do this. Almost forget the rules, the waiting, the punishment hanging between us like a loaded weapon.
And the sounds that come out of me are wild, because we just can’t resist, not like this. We can’t resist each other for four weeks.
I’m too weak for him. How am I supposed to abstain from this, from us, from everything that he is?
He’s the only being that can put me back together in the crumbling state I’m currently in, and I can’t deny how much I need this contact after the images of my grandmother’s pale body and empty stare fill my mind.
But then he stops, and I end up on the mattress with him right on top of me.
Flynn pins me down with the wickedest smile I’ve ever seen.
“If you think I’ve forgotten about your punishment,” he starts, leaving a soft peck on my lips.
“You’d be terribly mistaken.” Of course he hasn’t.
Flynn never forgets. Especially not when it comes to me.
“Flynn, I’m going insane, let me at least do something for you.”
He shakes his head, but doesn’t move. “Nope.”
“I need to get whatever this is out of me one way or the other.”
“What are you, a twelve-year-old boy just hitting puberty?”
“Flynn,” I groan.
“Brat.”
“I’m serious, I need to do something if I can’t even touch you.”
“You can absolutely touch me, you’re touching me right now. You just can’t come, I thought I was very clear.”
“Okay, then let me at least fix your situation,” I say, pointing at his bulge that is impossible to miss.
“Nope again.” He shakes his head.
“You’re unbelievable,” I reply, lying back down in bed and staring at the ceiling. “I’m going to die.”
“Dramatic much?”
“I’m serious, Flynn, I need to do something while we play this freaking game and wait to get into the new house.”
“What do you have in mind?”
I shrug. “Maybe we could train instead of fucking.”
“You want to kick my ass, little hunter?” The smirk that grows on his lips is deadly.
“Finding a gym could be good for me.” I sit up. “I’ve been off the mat for way too long, I’m getting rusty.”
“I’m having one installed at the house.”
I can’t help but whine because that will take another week at least. “In the meantime?” I ask, picking up my phone and opening the browser. “There has to be a boxing gym around.”
He groans. “I don’t love the idea.”
“I’m asking if you want to train with me. I can’t train with a regular human, you know I’d hurt them for real.”
“I take that back, I’d gladly watch you hurt a man, it’s actually my favorite pastime.”
“Thought you didn’t want me to fight.”
“This is different. They wouldn’t be really fighting against us.”
“Flynn, no unnecessary kills.”
He rolls his eyes, but snorts. “Fine, no unnecessary spilled blood.”
“So is that a yes?”
“There’s a boxing and MMA gym just around the corner.”
I can’t help but squeal with joy, and I wrap my arms around his neck and crush my mouth on his. “We’re going to have so much fun.”
The point of his nose touches mine gently. “It doesn’t matter what we do, I always have fun with you, red ruby.”
“You’re getting real soft, you know that?”
He snorts at my statement but doesn’t respond, instead he goes, “Tal?”
“Yes, fangs?”
“Thank you for sharing a piece of you with me. I know it’s not easy.” Sharing pieces feels dangerous. But with him, it also feels…inevitable.
The corners of my mouth lift, because I know that by opening up like this, he’s going to prepare to share his traumas with me soon too. “Always.”