Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Another day and a half later, I’m mostly back to normal. Physically, anyway.
My strength has returned, the dizziness is gone, and I can walk across a room without Taylor hovering three inches behind me like I’m a toddler learning how to use my legs.
Emotionally, though? I’m fucking pissed.
Elliott still hasn’t bothered to show his face– it’s been three days since he dropped my half-dead ass off on James’ doorstep, and apparently that was the extent of his concern. No visit, no message, no phone call… not even a fucking carrier pigeon to confirm I’m still alive.
Seriously, how dare he?
He nearly drains me dry, dumps me here, and then what? Goes home and returns to his regularly scheduled life? Doesn’t he give a shit whether I’m okay? And what about the whole our-blood-fucking-glows situation?
You’d think Dr. Science would have a few thoughts on that.
“… but obviously you don’t have to make any decisions right away,” Taylor says, her voice sounding distant despite the fact she’s sitting directly across from me.
My fingers drum restlessly against my thigh, my gaze fixed out the window at the dark lawn below.
“And I know it’s a lot to process.”
Tap, tap, tap.
“But I think maybe once you two actually talk…”
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
“Bex.”
She snaps her fingers in front of my face and I startle, jerking my attention back to her.
“What?”
She gives me a withering look. “Are you even hearing me?”
“Yeah.” I huff out a breath, one hand tightening around the handle of my tea mug while the fingers of my other keep tapping out their anxious rhythm beneath the table.
Taylor’s brows lift in silent challenge.
“Mostly,” I amend, lifting the mug and taking a sip as I sink deeper into my chair.
The bedroom I’ve been occupying for the past few days is bigger than my old apartment, complete with a massive en-suite bathroom that resembles a luxury spa and multiple seating areas tucked around the room.
There’s nothing stopping me from venturing out and wandering around the mansion, but between Taylor hovering and the staff delivering food around the clock, why bother?
Even Ozzy seems perfectly content to hole up in here with me, keeping me company while my body recovers and my mind spins out of control.
He’s currently curled up on the windowsill beside us, snoozing peacefully. The lights are dim, the rest of the mansion quiet at this hour. Outside, moonlight spills across the sprawling lawn, fading into darkness near the distant trees.
Taylor studies me for a long moment, her eyes narrowing. “So what are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” I groan, setting the mug down and scrubbing a hand over my face. “I mean, why the fuck am I sitting here worrying about what to do with this stupid bond when he hasn’t even bothered to show up and check on me?”
Her lips purse. “Well…” She trails off, shifting her weight in her chair opposite mine. “To be fair, we did warn him to stay away...”
I snort a bitter laugh. “Oh, so now you’re Team Elliott?”
Her expression darkens immediately. “Absolutely not. But…” She leans forward to reach for my hand across the table, her gaze softening. “I’m Team my-bestie-might-be-bonded-too, which would mean we’d both get to live forever, together.”
The corner of my mouth twitches despite myself.
She squeezes my fingers. “Only if you choose it, obviously. And only if he explains what the fuck happened the other night and guarantees it’ll never, ever happen again.”
My smile fades, and I turn my attention back toward the window.
Forever.
It’s such a stupidly enormous word.
“Remind me what the whole bonding thing entails again?” I murmur.
Taylor sighs, letting go of my hand and settling back in her chair. “Again? I’ve explained it like five times.”
“And yet my brain continues to reject the information.” My fingers trail absently over my wrist, only to find the Bite bracelet I’ve become so accustomed to fiddling with isn’t there anymore.
Taylor said they took it off so it wouldn’t get in the way of my IV.
Considering the ridiculous turn my life has taken, I don’t see any reason to put it back on.
Her eyes flick up to mine. “Fine, again. The way mine and James’ blood reacted suggested we were bonded, but in order to actually seal the bond, we had to share blood directly.”
I nod slowly. “So Elliott would drink from me. Again.”
She winces. “Yeah.”
“And I’d drink from him.”
“Yes.”
My nose wrinkles.
Taylor sighs. “I know how it sounds, but you get over the weirdness.”
“Says the woman that guzzles her fiancé’s blood,” I snort.
She rolls her eyes. “Do you want me to explain this or not?”
I mime zipping my lips.
“Once it’s sealed, the bond changes both of you,” she continues. “Elliott would become stronger, his senses would sharpen, his existing abilities would be enhanced…”
“Which seems unnecessary,” I grumble.
The man is already six and a half feet of superpowered vampire with a brain that makes Google look stupid. Giving him additional upgrades feels excessive.
“And you’d change, too,” Taylor adds, holding my gaze. “You’d still be human, technically. But you’d be stronger than you are now. You’d heal faster. Be harder to injure, harder to kill…”
“Comforting, considering the past few days,” I huff.
“And you’d stop aging.”
There it is.
No matter how many times she says it, those words still refuse to fit inside my head. I stare down into my tea, my vision blurring out of focus.
“So long as the vamp you’re bonded to is alive,” she amends.
I look up. “And vamps are immortal.”
“Exactly.”
“So…”
“So, potentially forever.”
I let out a slow breath.
There’s that word again. And once more, my brain takes the concept, looks at it, and promptly throws it in the trash.
Humans just aren’t built to understand forever. We understand next week, next year, maybe the next few decades if we’re optimistic. But centuries? Watching the world evolve and change around me while I just… don’t?
And Elliott would be there, bonded to me through it all. That thought should probably make the whole thing even more overwhelming, but instead, something warm and terrifying unfurls in my chest.
Shit, am I actually considering this?
The bedroom door creaks open, Taylor and I both turning toward the sound.
James is standing in the doorway, filling the width of it with his broad frame. His icy blue gaze flicks briefly to me before settling on Taylor.
“Coming to bed, darling?” he asks.
It’s ridiculous how Taylor’s whole face changes when she looks at him. She positively beams before turning back to me, her smile faltering with indecision.
“Go,” I say, waving a hand.
Her brows pinch together. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She hesitates, even as she starts pushing back her chair. “I can stay…”
“You’ve barely left me alone for three days,” I deadpan. “Go snuggle up with Dracula, I’ll be fine.”
She huffs out a breath as she eases to her feet, rounding the table and bending down to wrap her arms around me.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“Love you more, bitch,” I chuckle, hugging her back.
She gives me one last squeeze before straightening and crossing the room to James. He slips an arm around her waist, his gaze meeting mine as they turn to leave the room. I wait for him to say something obnoxious, but instead he just inclines his chin in acknowledgement. I return the gesture.
Weird.
Apparently almost dying has temporarily suspended hostilities.
James guides Taylor into the hall, the door shutting quietly behind them. Silence settles over the room as I stare at the closed door, then turn back toward the window, gazing out into the night.
Since James is headed to bed, dawn can’t be far off. I should probably sleep, too… but unfortunately, my overloaded brain’s wide awake.
I take another sip of tea as I stare through the glass, my gaze drifting across the sprawling lawn, following the pale streaks of moonlight between patches of shadow.
Farther out, clusters of trees are draped in darkness, their branches shifting faintly in the breeze.
I start mapping them without meaning to, my eyes bouncing from one trunk to another.
The sprawling branches of an oak, a gap, then another tree, and…
My gaze stops, pulse skipping.
There’s something there.
My fingers tighten around the handle of my mug as I blink, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.
A tall silhouette stands between the trees, nearly indistinguishable from the shadows surrounding it.
My breath stalls in my lungs.
No.
I lean closer to the window, squinting into the darkness. The movement disturbs Ozzy, and he lifts his head from the windowsill, blinking sleepily before glancing outside. He reacts instantly, surging to his feet, his back arching as a vicious hiss tears from his throat.
Well, shit– he sees it, too.
So unless we’re sharing a hallucination, someone is definitely out there.
I look out the window again, and the figure hasn’t moved. It stands motionless between the trees, and the longer I stare, the more familiar that silhouette becomes.
I’ve seen it before. Outside my apartment. Across the street from Cabo Cantina. Watching.
A cold prickle crawls over my skin.
Vincent.
My stomach swoops as dread curls in my gut.
How the fuck did he find me here?
And, more importantly, how the hell did he get onto the property?
Considering James is the regional king of vampires, you’d think he’d have this place locked down like Fort Knox.
I blink hard, but the figure remains standing there in the darkness, eerily still. And as I keep staring at it, something inside me finally snaps.
Maybe it’s the last three days finally catching up with me.
Maybe it’s Elliott disappearing after almost killing me.
Maybe it’s finding out I could potentially be tied to the infuriating bastard for eternity while he apparently can’t even be bothered to check whether or not I’m alive.
Whatever it is, every ounce of fear I’ve felt over the last few days suddenly burns away beneath a white-hot surge of anger.
Fuck this.
I shove out of the chair, tea sloshing over the edge of my mug as I slam it down onto the table and charge for the door.
This is probably a terrible idea.
Actually, scratch that.
This is definitely a terrible idea.
But even knowing full well how terrible it is, I can’t find it in me to give a single fuck. I’m done hiding from this asshole.
The hallway is dark when I burst through the door, my bare feet slapping against the polished floor as I hurry toward the staircase. My pulse ratchets higher as I start to descend, taking the steps two at a time, adrenaline burning through my veins by the time I reach the foyer.
Cool night air hits my skin as I wrench open the front door, charging outside in my pajama shorts and tank top.
Probably should’ve grabbed a jacket. But again, zero fucks given.
I descend the wide stone steps and cross the circular driveway, taking off across the lawn.
The grass is damp beneath my feet as I stalk toward the trees, morning dew slicking the blades.
“Hey!” I shout into the darkness. “Yeah, I’m talking to you, asshole!”
Even though there’s no response, I keep moving, my eyes locked on the grove of trees ahead. Of-fucking-course, the silhouette I spotted between the oaks is now gone, the coward too chicken-shit to actually face me.
“You’ve been stalking me for weeks, and now you’re shy?” I huff as I reach the treeline and plunge into the shadows. Branches rustle overhead, leaves crunching softly beneath my feet as I scan the darkness, searching between the trunks.
Nothing.
“This is what you wanted, right?” I yell, my head snapping back and forth wildly as I slow to a stop. “You wanted my attention?”
My pulse pounds in my ears as I wait for something to jump out at me, again realizing how colossally stupid I’m being.
Vincent is a vampire, and I’m a five-foot-nothing human who required a blood transfusion a few days ago. I don’t even have shoes on, for fucks sake. But apparently my survival instincts packed their shit and left sometime around the time Elliott Faulkner entered my life.
“I’m right fucking here!” I yell, throwing my arms wide. “Get out here and face me like a man!”
My voice echoes back at me, followed by a deafening silence. Then something shifts between the trees, and I freeze as a figure separates itself from the shadows, tall and broad-shouldered.
My anger surges all over again.
“Oh, now you–”
He steps forward, and the remaining words die on my lips when moonlight illuminates the sharp lines of his profile.
Dark hair, a square jaw, and an all too familiar mouth.
My heart thuds violently, because it isn’t Vincent coming toward me.
It’s Elliott.