8. The Excitement of Obsession
8
The Excitement of Obsession
Theron
Snowflakes crowned her hair like diamonds, briefly reflecting the light of the street lamps before melting away, darkening her brown locks into dark strands. She was beauty personified, her profile downturned, small nose pointed toward the ground as she tried to make herself smaller and less noticeable.
Oh, little rabbit. You could never be inconspicuous with eyes like yours.
When they’d met mine from the other side of the train, I wanted to melt like the snow in her hair. They were like clover fields, or patches of the moss that grew in the dense forest north of here. I could fall into them, and drown peacefully. If they were the last thing I saw before my heart stopped, I think I could tell God that I’d had a fulfilled life.
Her look of utter shock and then horror at seeing me brought a curl to my lips, and excitement lanced down my spine.
Yes, Ever, you’re being stalked. No sudden movements, little rabbit.
Her eyes never left mine as the train car jolted down the tracks, and I took calculated steps towards her with each new press of passengers. The car door would slam open, and after the brief flurry of frigid air and commuters disembarking I’d be another step closer to her.
Leave. Me. Alone. She had mouthed before dashing from the train, and I laughed aloud as the rabbit scampered back to her burrow with a false sense of security. We both knew that I had her address, but if it made her feel better to continue the chase, then so be it. I would oblige.
I walked a fair distance behind her, observing as she moved a few feet down the sidewalk before turning quickly on her heels to seek my face in the crowd moving around her. Ever’s cheeks were rosy from the wind, but I’d already imagined her flushed and panting from much more enjoyable activities. Sweet sweat dripped down her brow, chest heaving with passion and fear as I sunk my teeth into her.
She ran up the steps of the small and dilapidated building that housed her apartment, courtesy of the State, slamming and locking the door behind her. curtains snapped shut and lights went out, plunging the miserable scene into darkness. She had bought a book she’d already read from the bookstore, held it lovingly to her chest before boarding the train but still — she locked herself into a dark place and avoided the things that make her happy.
I could make her happy.
I could make her mad with rage, or delirious with lust. She was avoiding me, because she knew I was the answer to her problems. The balm to her ache, that I could mend her heart in more ways than one.
I’d already started my hunt for a new organ, scouring over police reports and medical records to see if anyone fit the bill. There were a few options, but this would take time. I wanted to make sure she was given something perfect —untouched by the vices that most vultures gravitated towards.
“Goodnight, Ever,” I said looking up at her window. “I’ll be back soon.”
I let my feet carry me home, but it wasn’t my primary residence. Orlo Hawthorne lived in a Heritage brownstone, a favorite photo spot of tourists in the fall. It was a large home by Boston standards; six bedrooms and the finished basement where he had groomed me to take over his dark empire. All of my father’s money had been inherited, or earned through various legal means. Organ harvesting from scumbags was just for fun, it was a bonus that it was for the good of the city.
I rapped on the door and waited for his response. I had a key, but he craved and deserved privacy after years of raising rambunctious boys.
“Come,” came the commanding voice from the entry hall and I pushed through the familiar door to see Orlo leaning against the banister, a crystal whiskey tumbler dangling from one hand.
“You were supposed to stop drinking — doctor’s orders,” I chastised, taking off my coat and throwing it onto the rack.
He raised a silver brow, challenging me before handing it over. “Are you making house calls now?”
I swallowed back the amber liquor and smiled brightly at him. My father was raised with money, and favored the finer things in life — like this Bowmore Scotch. “Only for a select few patients,” I said as we walked into the sitting area where a fire was blazing in the hearth.
Above the mantle sat ordinary and pretentious photos of the family. There were portraits of us three boys, with Orion at the head as the oldest. He’d taken the money Father set aside for education and turned it into a well-paying career in finance — in London. He’d itched to get away from home, and had even spent his last year in high school abroad to be separated from me. We’d never gotten on, and it’d become increasingly obvious over the years that Father favored me.
Dade was a quieter boy, slower to torment and even slower to action. He was the epitome of a middle child and used it to full advantage, skating through life and from lucky break to lucky break, the most recent being when his coding company was bought out by Microsoft and he was given a hefty severance as a result. He still came by for Christmas, but no one stayed close to Orlo like I did. I think a part of them, buried deep, knew what was happening behind the locked door of the basement, but they were far too scared as children to say a word and too smart as adults to try to do anything about it.
Father settled into a chair that was obviously made for looks rather than comfort, grunting as he did before raising a hand. “There’s something you want to talk about, so go ahead and say it before I die of old age.”
I huffed, leaning back and crossing my legs. It might not have been a home built for comfort, but it was the only one I came to take solace in. A sanctuary where I could be myself, even if it was in the basement. It’s where I grew up, and studied for medical school. It’s where I felt safe.
“I’ve met someone,” I said proudly with a curl of my lips.
My father’s brows furrowed, and he sat up to pull his robe around himself before nodding for me to continue. I’d never brought anyone home before, nor really spoken about women. After Orlo had drawn a clear line on what was and wasn’t appropriate behaviors to indulge in, I’d settled in one-night stands with the various nurses or girls from bars. I avoided anyone who really caught my eye — not that many had. Not like her.
“She’s a patient at the hospital.”
My father’s eyes darkened. “Theron,” he warned in a commanding voice, but I was far past being scared by my father’s chastising.
“I’m not hunting her,” I said with my eyes wide and shoulders tense, defending myself to one of the only people who understood my blood lust. He’d felt it himself. “I don’t see her the same way I’ve seen other women from my youth. I want to possess her, hold her,” I said with force as my father watched me with skepticism. “ Protect her.”
Orlo Hawthorne brought a steady but aged hand to his eyes, rubbing at them with a tiredness I couldn’t fathom yet — only acquired with age. He’d always been patient with me, but a decent level of mistrust always followed where women were concerned. I didn’t blame him for this, but Ever was different. She was going to be my Venus — a partner in a life that had seemed dull at the best of times.
“The excitement of obsession can bleed into jealousy and violence, Theron. Does she understand your tastes?”
I nodded slowly. “I think she has an adequate picture of my psyche without fully knowing the mantle we’ve built.”
His eyes narrowed, jaw tense. “How much does she know?”
I crossed my arms, and sat back. “She’s in need of a heart transplant —”
My father was cursing before I could finish.
“And she won’t make the donor list,” I said louder so that I could be heard over his symphony of colorful curses and swears.
He stood abruptly. “Fucking Christ, Theron! You can not get close to this woman if you intend to perform a transplant or it jeopardizes everything we’ve built. Everything I’ve taught you!”
I stood just the same, but didn’t make a move towards him. I was above trying to intimidate my father, but I’d be damned to let him speak down to me. Not after everything I’d done to grow our empire, and hone the hunts in order to take the most despicable of people off the streets.
“We’ve both kept assistants over the years who know about the mantle; in fact, you’re the one who always told me I couldn’t do it alone!”
He slapped his hand down on the fireplace mantle, and our family photos rattled. “Tabitha was hand selected by the both of us and knew what she was getting into when she took the job. She signed a contract for God’s sake, a lucrative contract with all the prestige of working for the Hawthorne family. She knows the consequences of breaching that contract. Hell, her father went to school with me! She is not the same as a poor woman you found dying in a waiting room.”
“She needn’t know about the black market, or the hunts then. I could lie and say it’s a one-time kill for her benefit and the truth about whatever creature I rip the heart out of. A crime of passion. She’ll believe that it’s because of my obsession with her, and I’ll keep her far away from the hospital. This doesn’t have to concern the family legacy.”
Father was shaking his head, hand swaying back and forth as he peered into the flames. “You are the legacy,” He seethed. “This is a terrible idea, Theron. I spent decades creating an outlet for our needs, and even longer turning it into something I could hand over to you. You can’t let one woman risk it all.”
I shook my head in disbelief, but then straightened my shoulders. “Then I’ll do the transplant and leave her be. I won’t ever see her again,” I lied through my teeth. My father was an intelligent man, and read me like the Sunday Times.
“I don’t think so,” he said with a gruff laugh. “No, I think she’s already poisoned you with whatever darkness you’ve misplaced as attraction. You’re enamored by this woman, and you won’t let her go even if it means tying her to a post until she gnaws through her own leg.”
He was right, unfortunately, but I was undeterred.
“I won’t let her die,” I declared fiercely. “If she gives herself to me, I’ll give her a heart that she can use to love me —”
“You’re acting a fool,” my father hissed. “Love you? She’ll hate you with everything in her if you capture her — wild things love the chase, but the thrill will dry up as soon as she’s caged. Sure, she’ll smile prettily and lay beneath you while she indulges her lust, or maybe she’ll even genuinely desire you for a time, but she’ll never love you, Theron” My father raised his chin, even standing his tallest I still towered over him, and I looked down my nose at a man who’d given me the world, and was now trying to take it away. “No one can love creatures like us.”
I took an involuntary step towards my father whose eyes widened, but he stood his ground. I’d never raised a hand to him, but in that moment I wanted to crush his windpipe between my fingers until I felt bone. My shoulders shook with rage, and my hand raised in Orlo’s direction as I uttered the words we boys had been forbidden to speak.
“She’s not like Ada, and she won’t run away when she sees my darkness. Just because she wasn’t strong enough to love you doesn’t mean Ever won’t be brave enough to love me back.”
My father’s eyes flashed, and then he spoke in a quiet rage. “Get. Out.”
I straightened, chin raised as I passed the man who raised me and taught me everything I knew. I wouldn’t let his own ghosts stand in the way of my chance of happiness. This life he had cultivated for himself and for me was lonely and dull. It was an outlet for our rage and boredom, but it bred monotony. He had taken a chance years ago to drop the mask and let someone in. She ran the moment the mask hit the floor and never looked back.
I let the door slam behind me as I left my childhood home. My excitement turned to poison in my gut. I’d known he’d be slow to accept this, but I didn’t think he’d deny me my Ever. Telling me that our love wasn’t possible and foolish when I knew it to be pure. It was a love that would welcome the darkness but also create a place for us to both live in the light.
I walked down the empty street with the thought of her, remembering how she felt under my lips and the way she moaned at my touch. She was made for me and ready for the taking. Ever responded to my darkness in a way that no one ever had, and I wasn’t afraid of what she had in exchange.
Even if she didn’t love me now, I knew she’d grow to. She’d see the way I could protect her and cherish her. Make her wild for life when all she’d ever done was run for it. Yes, I wanted to make Ever Knight fall in love with life .
I stared up at the dark window of her apartment and took a breath that I had been holding since leaving my father. I would save my little rabbit from herself, even if it killed me. I’d die with a smile on my lips if it was my heart in her hands.