Chapter 23 #2
“He bit me on the neck. He bit me and drank my blood.” My voice rises with every word until I’m trembling all over again.
Henrietta stiffens, her eyes blinking as she tries to absorb what I’ve just said.
“He bit you? He drank your blood?” she parrots back, eying the spot on my neck where my fingers are grazing.
I nod. “The whites of his eyes turned crimson and then I saw his canines lengthen and stretch… Then he said I can’t fight it, and he bit me. I must’ve passed out, because when I woke up, I was lying on my bed and he was nowhere to be seen.”
“What in the actual fuck?” Henrietta exclaims, then frowns. Her gaze drifts to my neck. “I don’t see any—”
“I know there aren’t any puncture wounds.
But it happened, Henrietta. I swear to you.
” She gives me a look that tells me she doesn’t quite believe me.
Before she can protest, I continue. “That’s not all.
When I woke up this morning, I remembered him standing beside my bed naked afterwards.
The sun was rising behind him, and I smelt something burning. ”
“Edie,” her voice softens as she moves closer. “I think perhaps, maybe you’re—”
“I’m not making this up.”
“I didn’t say you were, but perhaps—”
“No,” I snap. “This happened. I threw up in the toilet once I remembered,” I add quickly. “Then I showered and dressed, but as I was doing so, I heard him.”
“Dorian?”
“Yes, he sounded in pain. He called for me. He was in my wardrobe, Henrietta. He was naked, curled up into a ball in the corner. I saw his foot…”
“His foot?”
“I saw his foot burn. It slipped into a pool of sunlight, and it burned. His flesh literally turned black right in front of me. When he pulled his foot back into the shade, it healed. It burnt, then healed, Henrietta.”
“Jesus Christ,” she mutters, and I’m not sure if she’s swearing because she believes me or if she thinks I’m having some mental break, the latter probably.
“He looked so weak. He was trembling. He said he wouldn’t hurt me, but he did. He already did.”
“Then what happened?” she asks, her concern making me twitchy because I know she doesn’t believe me. That she won’t believe what I’m about to say next, either.
“I asked him what he was, and he told me… Jesus, even I’m having trouble believing this despite what I witnessed.”
“What did he tell you?”
I breathe in deeply, then blow out a long, slow breath. “He told me he’s a vampire.”
“A vampire?” Henrietta’s mouth pops open, and for a moment she just stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Edie…”
“I know it sounds unbelievable, and that you don’t believe me,” I say quickly. “But I swear to you that’s what he said, and I know what I saw.”
My voice cracks, and she reaches for me, her hand clasping mine. “Then let’s go and deal with this vampire.”
“I’m not sure that this is a good idea,” I mumble, opening the door to my house and stepping into the hallway.
Henrietta follows me in, but doesn’t shut the door behind her.
It’s mid-afternoon now, and whilst there’s still plenty of daylight left, I am not at all comfortable being back in my house with a bloodsucking vampire, no matter how beautiful he is, or how talented in bed.
“We’ll leave the door open just in case we need to make a quick exit,” she says, her hand curling around a wooden spatula. The handle is sharpened into a point after she meticulously whittled it down in her kitchen an hour ago.
“I honestly don’t know if that will work,” I say, my nose wrinkling at the scent of garlic oozing from her pores, from mine. She’d forced me to eat some too, and it’s only adding to the nausea I still feel.
“A wooden stake to the heart should do it, and if not, the garlic should put him off.”
“Says who?”
“All the movies about vampires. It’s always a stake to the heart. Garlic makes our blood taste like shit, or something like that, and if you’d stopped at the church like I asked you to, I would’ve got some holy water.”
“We have no idea if any of that works,” I whisper-hiss, my eyes flicking nervously to the stairs.
“Wait a minute, how could he just break into your home? I thought vampires had to be invited inside.”
I wince, remembering the exact moment I’d done exactly that. “The night he made me come in his car, I practically begged him to come inside.”
“That was when he fingered you, and you were on your period? It all makes sense now. He was an arsehole that night because he didn’t want to take a bite out of you.
He warned you he’s dangerous, not just because he murdered those men, but because of what he is.
Now, I’m certain that the stake will work.
One jab to the heart, and poof, he’ll be nothing more than ash. ”
“I think I preferred it when you didn’t believe me. I’m not sure I recognise you right now.”
“It’s not that I didn’t believe you, it’s just—”
“Unbelievable?” I finish for her. “I get it. But I still don’t think it’s wise to be here. I’ve no idea what else he’s capable of, and again, we have no idea if this will even work.”
“You said he was weak. That he burned in the sunlight. Now is the only time we can do this.”
“Do what exactly, stake him in the heart? I’m not sure I want him dead.”
“He drank your blood, Edie.”
“I don’t think he could help himself… We were both caught up in the moment.”
“The sex might’ve been fantastic, but he still drank your blood. He could’ve killed you.”
“But he didn’t, Henrietta. He held back that night in the car. He warned me at the club he’s dangerous, and he stopped last night before he could kill me. That has to mean something.”
“He gave you amazing orgasms. I get it. You’re attached to him because of that, but think about this. If what you’re saying is true—”
“I’m not lying.”
“If what you’re saying is true,” she continues, “He could hurt you again. Maybe even finish you off for good.” Her eyes round as she stares at me. “Logan must be a vampire, too. It all makes sense now.”
“We don’t know that.”
“If Dorian is, then so is he. No wonder he hated my pet name for him. Elizabeth was right. He may as well be Satan. I knew there was a reason he wouldn’t come into my home,” she bristles, her fingers curling around the makeshift stake tighter.
“If he is a vampire like Dorian, doesn’t that speak volumes? Logan wasn’t just protecting you from your ex, but from himself, too,” I argue, not sure who I’m trying to persuade, her or myself.
“He lied to me. I don’t do well with liars.”
“He could hardly tell you the truth,” I snap.
She scowls. “Dorian told you.”
“He didn’t really have much of a choice. Besides, he was so delirious. I don’t think he meant to. He was hurting, Henrietta. He was in pain, and I left him.”
“For good bloody reason. We’re going upstairs, and I’m going to confront the monster.”
With that, she storms past me, taking the stairs two at a time. By the time I’ve plucked up the courage to follow her, she’s already pushing open the door to my walk-in wardrobe.
“Well, shit,” Henrietta mutters.
“What?” I ask, forcing myself to approach.
“He’s not here.”
“What?”
She turns to face me, her expression softening. “Edie, he’s not here. Are you certain..?”
Shoving past her, I step into the wardrobe, my heart sinking, not just because Henrietta clearly thinks I’ve made this all up, but because Dorian’s left and, unbelievably, I’m worried about him.