Chapter 78
Nothing Can Trump A Vampire
Monique and Michael left to see if they could pick up the scent in places witches are known to frequent.
Dahlia went to get cream for the bruising.
Karson and Ethan remained. I sat on the couch, legs curled under my body, holding a warm tea between my hands, absently tugging on the string.
My body was there, the feel of the warm cup was tangible, but my mind was displaced.
The visions came back, hot and fast. Karson’s eyes reflected back like a ghostly portal to hell.
His teeth as they tore into a man’s neck.
The heart tossed to the ground. The fist coming at my face. I jerked, hot tea spilt over the cup.
Karson was sitting in the armchair, elbows rested on his thighs, hands clasped together, leaning forward, watching me. I wiped my wet hand on the fabric of my jeans.
“I think it’s best when Darcy comes you make yourself scarce,” he said in a low, quiet voice.
I removed the tea bag from my cup, wrapped the string around it and squeezed. I placed it on the side table. “I’m staying.”
He sat up straight. “I’m trying to protect you, there are some things you don’t need to see.”
“You really think there is anything else I could see that could be worse than last night?”
His left eye twitched, it was the only indication my words had hurt him.
“You do not belong in this world and I’m asking you to make yourself scarce.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m already in it. I’m not going to hide in the bedroom like some pathetic victim. I’m tougher than you think and I’m going to find who came for me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You want to be in this world. You think you are tough enough to handle it.” His voice rose. “Look at you, you are a mess, Amelia.”
“Karson, that’s enough,” Ethan sighed. “Just leave her be.”
“She thinks she can handle it.” He shook his head. “You know I’m right, Ethan.”
I was fragile emotionally, I knew that, but if I hid away it made me weak. The weak always suffered. I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m staying and, once the bruising is gone, I’m going looking for them. It’s my battle to fight, not yours.”
Silence hung in the air for a long moment. The fire crackled in the background like a cracker had met its demise somewhere in the heart of the wood. It was too close to the sound of shots that’d split the wood of the fence in front of me last night. I startled.
“You are not.”
“I am.”
“No.”
“My skills could be handy. I can do things you can’t,” I implored.
He smirked. Smirked, like it was the most amusing thing he’d ever heard.
“There’s nothing a witch can do a vampire cannot trump, Amelia.”
The elitist, self-righteous prick. “Is that so?”
He drew a deep breath, as if fighting to keep calm. “It’s no longer a request. When Darcy arrives, you’ll go up to your room. You will not be going anywhere. Do I make myself clear?”
“You hypocritical son of a bitch. You want to keep me out of your world and protect me? Then why didn’t you just drive me straight home, why did you have to go after those men?
You could have called Matt and had them arrested.
You could have let them live. You never gave one second of thought last night about showing me your world.
So don’t you dare sit there and tell me you only want to protect me.
” I was on my feet, I hadn’t even realized I had stood. “Don’t you dare.”
“I killed those men to protect you,” he roared and stood up. “And I would do it again, and again, and again.”
“Why Karson? Why protect me? Why save me? Why not just let me go and sort out my own shit? It doesn’t involve you. If I die, so fucking what?” I flicked out my arms. Like a broken record stuck on repeat we were back, with me desperately seeking three words he didn’t feel.
“Stop it,” he snarled. “I cannot give you the answer you want to hear.”
I retreated. Anger cooled into a bitter acceptance. “Then do me a favor and just stay away from me.”
Emotions sped over his face, anger, defiance, and what looked like guilt, but the last look was full of malice. “If I’d stayed away last night, you would be dead.” He strode from the room and slammed the front door.
“If you wanted the pictures relocated, Karson. You only had to ask,” Ethan called out.
“Oh right,” I muttered, “because I couldn’t possibly take care of myself.”
I grabbed a glass off the side table and poured a full whisky. I shot it down my throat in three big gulps. Its burn didn’t offer relief, not yet anyway. I poured another drink.
Ethan came over and took the glass from my hands.
“You want to fight, and you might be capable of it physically, but emotionally, be realistic, Amy.” He sat the glass back on the table. “I know he hides it well, but what he did last night, he feels bad about it.”
“Bad for doing it, or bad because I saw it?” I asked.
By giving me no answer, I had my answer.