112
We sit on the yacht, our legs dangling over the side, and I reach for her hand.
Although our conversation, and this night, is private, the crew is filming from some distance away. The director has begged that I try to demonstrate ‘some, any, emotional connection’ to this contestant.
I didn’t bother telling him that I do have a connection with the woman sitting beside me, even though I still don’t understand what it is.
‘I want her physically, her body, her blood. And I need someone strong like her in my life to remind me to remain true to myself, even if it means sacrificing others. Yet she’s so damaged. There’s a darkness in her that I’m somehow drawn to, perhaps because she fights it so hard.
But I feel for Thorun, too. There’s so much goodness in her. Perhaps the visit to my family and friends will give me some clarity about the two.
As for Cherry, Christ save me from marrying that wench.
I know I should have eliminated her last night, given her to Starlen, but I just couldn’t do it.
I needed to give her one last night of pleasure first. And after what Cat told me earlier, I know that Asumpta deliberately put me in this situation to force my hand.
Cherry will be the first woman I’ll have to choose to be eliminated, her blood on my hands, even if I don’t do it myself.
That bitch Asumpta must have laughed all the way out of that forest knowing I could never countenance marrying the Londoner.
She’d obviously been watching the show carefully.
On the plus side, Falcon won’t need to convince me to murder his cunting half-sister.
I’ll happily do it when I get out of here. ’
Cat looks down, surprised, as I enfold her hand in mine, while I try to think of other, less murderous thoughts.
She doesn’t withdraw it, instead looking away to stare out at the water.
I can hear her heartbeat thundering, and I give her fingers a reassuring squeeze.
Her hand feels small in mine, and warm. Just like in the past when we’ve touched, I feel a deep pull towards her.
‘Her or her blood? Both. Either way, it’s an attraction she obviously doesn’t feel towards me.’
“You remind me of someone, you know,” I murmur now as I follow her gaze out to sea.
“Really? Who?”
“A woman I knew a long, long time ago.”
“A vampire?”
“No, a human woman.”
“Did you like her?”
I swallow hard.
‘Did I like her? Yes. Did I love her? Also yes. More than life itself.’
“Very much,” I clear my throat.
“How do I remind you of her?”
‘The way you move, the way you speak, your body, your humour, your strength…’
“She was beautiful, like you. Your eyes, like hers, were haunted,” I murmur. “But it’s more than appearances. You fight to change your fate, no matter the odds — just as she once did.”
“Did she change her fate?”
“No.”
“I suppose she’s dead, then.”
I snort and shake my head at her blunt pragmatism.
“Yes.”
“Tell me you weren’t the one charged with her protection,” she turns to look into my eyes.
“I was.”
‘And how my soul has burned over my failure.’
“Shit!” She shakes her head, looking away once more.
I frown, wondering what she’s thinking.
‘Is she concerned that I can’t protect her as I said I would? Does she doubt my strength?’
“What happened?” She eventually asks.
“She and I were to meet at an agreed time and location. We were going to get out of Europe, away from the war, away from all the bullshit surrounding us,” I murmur, reliving that time all over again, “but she never made it to our rendezvous.”
“How did she die?”
“I can’t talk about that,” I grit my teeth.
“You brought it up.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
‘Yes, I did bring it up. Why?’
I swallow hard at the remembrance of finding my lover’s small, broken body lying by the roadside in a ditch, the evidence of a long, drawn-out death all over her.
“Suffice to say I spent the next few days ensuring that those who took her from me endured for a long, long time before they met their final destination.”
“You loved her,” Cat whispers.
“I bring nothing but suffering to any I have loved,” I murmur. “And to myself.”
“It sounds like you’ve loved others too, and it didn’t work out.”
“Only one other,” I muse, wondering why I’m sharing so much with someone whose heart and past are a closed book.
“They say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I wouldn’t know, but that’s what they say.”
“They’re wrong,” I mutter.
“Is that why you came on the Games to get a wife? You just need a partner who won’t cause you to suffer?”
“No, I told you, I didn’t choose to come onto these Games. It was something I had to do for a friend.”
“A friend you love?”
“A friend, and someone I love,” I murmur, knowing I’ve said too much and gritting my teeth.
“I guess that’s why you sometimes look sad. Although not as often as you did at the start of the Games.”
I shrug.
“I’ve lived a long life, I’m bound to have days where memories haunt me, Cat. Whether from those I hated or those I loved. Although for the latter, those are few and far between and unlikely to play any part in my future.”
“Then it’s fortunate I don’t need you to love me.”
She pulls her hand from mine and folds it with her other on her lap.
“You’ve always said that,” I frown. “So why are you angry?”
“I’m not angry.”
“Have I said something to offend you?”
“No,” she shakes her head, “but it’s getting cold. We should head inside.”
I study her profile for a long minute. She’s definitely angry about something. Perhaps I shared too much. She’s not to know she’s the only woman I’ve ever talked about Coquette with. Even Angelina wasn’t privy to my past, other than what Falcon might have told her. And he, too, only knew a little.
Rising, I frown as I follow her inside the cabin. It’s not cold outside, but something is definitely frosty with her.
When I reach the cabin, she’s pouring a drink.
“Cat?”
She spins to me and hands me the drink, but doesn’t look me in the eye.
“We should go to bed,” she murmurs.
“Pardon?”