Chapter 25 - Garrett
Ikilled someone.
I killed someone.
I killed someone.
I killed someone.
The words tumbled through my head over and over and over again, rattling around like loose change.
I wanted to scream.
When I finished feeding on the man—the man I’d killed—Marella looped her arm through mine and began leading me away from the bodies. I could barely keep my feet beneath me as she steered me through the streets, and the walk back to her apartment seemed to take forever.
I half expected her to leave me outside, and the thought filled me with fear. How could I go back after what I’d done?
I was supposed to be hunting monsters. Not humans.
He was a monster.
Marella’s words pushed into my thoughts.
She unlocked the front door and shoved me inside, then pulled me up the staircase. With every step we took, she glanced back at me with a worried, scared expression.
Finally, the door slammed behind us, and the knowledge that we were alone was enough for me to come unraveled.
"I killed someone," I said, fisting the hair at my temples.
"Sssshhhh." Marella didn’t come near me, but she raised her hands like she was welcoming me to step towards her. "Garrett, you killed a bad person," she said harshly when I didn’t move.
"He was still a person."
"He would have hurt me."
I couldn’t stop the incredulous snort that escaped me. "No he wouldn’t have." I wasn’t sure when the thought had crawled into my mind. But it was clear that Marella hadn’t actually needed my help. "You would have ripped him apart before he had the chance."
She frowned and glanced at the floor. When she turned back to me, her eyes were soft. "Yes," she said carefully, taking a step towards me. "But you didn’t know that."
Something heavy sat, thick and viscous, in my throat. I wondered if the blood I’d drunk was bad. Can blood be spoiled like milk?
Marella moved just a little closer. "You didn’t know that I had it handled," she said, voice growing quieter as the space between us shrunk. "You didn’t know that I’d be able to escape on my own." She was right in front of me now, green eyes boring into mine, and, finally, she paused. "Am I wrong?"
Slowly, I shook my head, keeping my eyes focused on hers.
She nodded. Swallowed. Reached forward, and grabbed my hand. "Do you know how long it’s been since anyone did something like that for me?"
I let her press my fingers against her chest, just beneath her collarbone. There was nothing sensual in the movement; she held my hand like a cherished object, something she wanted to protect.
"No one comes to my rescue," she continued.
"My sisters still blame me for what happened to my mother.
My father—" she swallowed again, breaking our eye contact to look away, just for a second.
"My father has been trapped for so long I can barely remember his voice. I’ve been alone for hundreds of years.
" Her fingers squeezed mine. "And then there was you. And you cared enough to save me."
There was something buried behind her earnest expression. Something left unsaid that I knew I should try to uncover.
But as I stared at her, I realized that she was right. I didn’t know that she would be okay. I didn’t know that she’d be able to sidestep the knife, or shake off the second attacker. I just saw her, trapped, and I knew in that moment that I would do anything to save her.
And I’d do it again, I realized. If it meant leaving a bloody trail behind me for miles, if it meant ripping down the city of Rossaia brick by brick until it crumbled into ruins, I’d do it—for her. Because I knew she’d never ask me to.
I didn’t know how it happened. But somehow, this dangerous, terrifying woman had become the single point around which my axis spun.
I’d come to this city looking for purpose, for something to live for. And I was increasingly sure that I’d found someone instead.
This time, neither of us pulled away. It wasn't clear who made the choice for us, but our lips met with promise and fragility, melding together like wax dripping from a candle.
We crashed onto the bed like water against the shore, tumbling down and letting ourselves be pulled like the tide.
Our clothes fell like sand, and then she was there, wholly exposed beneath me, and I hovered over her, letting adoration coat my face. When she squirmed beneath me, I began kissing my way from her collarbone to her navel and lower, thrilling as she whispered my name again and again and again.
I let myself learn her in currents instead of words, and she rose to meet me like the sea, hungry and inviting, undulating like waves.
And when that tiny sound broke free from her lips, when she gasped like she’d been drowning all along, I crawled my way upward, kissing and licking the salt from her skin, until we were eye to eye.
She nodded, and her hands were tangled in my hair, and my fingers were digging into the skin of her knee as I opened her like a shell and dove into her slick, wet depths.
We moved together in ripples, relentless and patient, returning again and again until we both surrendered and lay there, gasping and spent, wrapped up in a tangle of limbs and sweat.