Chapter 7
Don’t Tell
Itwiddled the card in my fingers, blinking my bleary eyes.
Karson stirred in his sleep. His breathing was more even now, at least. I wanted to wrap myself around him, but he was still burning with fever, too hot to hold.
So I lay down beside him, staring at his face.
Even pale and slicked with sweat, he was beautiful.
His soft mouth was shaped like a cupid’s kiss, a stunning contrast against his sharp-angled jaw.
His nose was straight, not too large, not too small, in perfect proportion with his face.
Perfect. He was perfect. My eyes slipped to his throat, sweeping over the curve of his Adam’s apple.
Down to the jet-black raven on his sleek, hairless chest. In the bird’s black eye was the glint of a star.
I remembered the first time I saw him across the bar.
When our eyes locked, it was as if I’d been struck with a bolt of electricity.
I couldn’t breathe, all brain cells departed.
I just stared, absolutely shocked by his beauty.
Later, when he’d talked to me and I’d seen his hazel eyes up close, I saw strength, I saw hope, I saw a twisted torment I didn’t understand but wanted to erase.
I’d felt drawn to him, a strange connection, a pull I couldn’t resist.
Even when I found out he was a vampire, I should have wanted to run. Instead, I only wanted to get closer.
My fingers ran over one of the three other “gifts” Dahlia had left for me on the coffee table.
I’d hidden the vial in one of my jacket pockets.
I wouldn’t tell him about any of it. It was hard enough for him to accept what I was with his painful past. There was no need to make things harder for him.
Everyone told us we should be enemies, but I couldn’t hate him just because of what he was.
Too many wars were started, too much innocent blood was spilled, because of ideational rhetoric.
People judged what someone was, or where they came from, instead of trying to understand who they were.
I didn’t understand him, I didn’t pretend to, but I wanted to know every part of him, explore every cell in his body, if he’d ever let me get close enough.
The card seemed to vibrate under my fingers, calling for attention.
Dahlia probably spelled it so I couldn’t ignore it.
I slipped it into my pocket. My mind shifted to one of the other “gifts.” The blade simmered with power.
I felt it as soon as I touched it. It seemed to whisper for violence.
For a moment, the power had seeped from it into me, and it was intoxicating.
I’d shoved it back in its sheath and the blade had disappeared along with the power.
I would have handed it back if she hadn’t already left.
I’d buried it under layers of clothes in a safe hidden at the back of the wardrobe.
Guilt and doubt twisted through my chest; deception had a way of ripping out the strongest of roots.
But the last thing I wanted was for Karson to feel threatened by me. I wanted him to trust me. I wanted him to love me. If he could ever love someone like me?
Drowsiness crept in and my eyes fluttered closed.
I’d keep it hidden; he’d never see it; he didn’t have to know.
Some secrets were best kept buried.