“Then you can imagine what I’m about to do to you.”
I tried to shake my head. “I’m not afraid of you. You won’t hurt me. Emily told me that you’re swee—”
“You shut your mouth, you horrible little human.” His fingers knotted tightly in my hair, moving the flesh over my scalp, making my forehead higher.
“Jason, please.” My fingertips slowly reached for his arm. “Please, look at me. I’m not the enemy. I’m not the—”
“One does not have to deserve the misfortune they suffer.” His anger landed in my face in dots of saliva. “You were to die by torture for his crimes, but now you will endure it more slowly for your own mouthy impudence, you stupid, stupid girl.”
“Ara-Rose!” Voices echoed off the shallow valley. Jason’s grip on my hair eased until he untangled his fingers gently from the loose remains and removed his hand.
I looked up at him, my scalp burning like the rage rising within me. “Go ahead. Do what you want. It will never change the fact that Rochelle’s dead—and all it will achieve is your own pain when David takes revenge on you.”
Jason just sat beside me on the ground. “Actually, my dear, the laws of our kind prevent he should seek retribution for the death of a human.” He grinned, seemingly pleased with himself. “The unlawful changing of one to a vampire, yes—but not death.”
“What?”
“I have the right to mutilate my kill in any way I see fit—as long as I eat you. The law will not side with David this time. There is nothing he can do, and he will have an eternity to reflect on the horrific way in which I hurt you. Oh, Ara—” He rolled his head back. “It will kill him inside; the images I will savour for him shall be etched into the iris of his minds-eye for all time.”
“No—that isn’t fair.”
“Life is not fair. But you refuse to believe that, don’t you?”
I shook my head, the anger becoming a physical form of hatred inside me. “I won’t let you destroy my faith in—”
“I don’t need to destroy it,” he yelled. “I will destroy you instead, then David’s hope, his faith in life, in love, will be lost forever.”
“No. You will let me go. I will not be the victim in your family feuds,” I said with an unsteady cry, trying to sound strong.
“You know—” he stopped and listened as the hunters came closer, “—you only make this more of a game for me—to see how long I have to hurt you until your faith breaks.”
“And all that will do is prolong my life, because I will never lose faith. Love will prevail. David will come for me, and I will go home and live my life, and you—” I spat the words out, “—will suffer for eternity without Rochelle.”
He reached sideways and knocked his forearm across my chest; I yelped out an odd sounding whimper as I fell to the ground with my hands across my ribs, unable to find my breath for a second. “Keep up this haughty attitude, and I will see to it that death is not the worst you suffer.”
I snickered miserably to myself, pressing my hands to the ground, stretching my arms to lift myself up. “What could be worse than death?”
“Many things,” he scoffed. “How ‘bout if I ensure your replacement lover finds his precious baby girl in such disgrace that he will suffer the nightmares of your naked, mutilated body, for the next fifty years?”
“Please! No!” I jumped to my knees and grabbed his sleeve. “Kill me, do what you want, but don’t let Mike see—I’m begging you.”
“Begging?” he asked, cold amusement oozing through his voice. “I gave you the chance to beg, but you were too proud. Now I will give you no such fortune. Curious though—” He rubbed his chin. “You care not for what I show your true love, but for Mike—you wish him to be free of this detest. Why?”
“He’s good, Jason.” Hysteria turned my words to hiccups. “He doesn’t deserve this. It has nothing to do with him. Please just don’t hurt him like this.”
“Shh, hush now, sweet little girl. It will all be okay—for you. You will be dead in a few hours, and all of this—the cold, the dark, the fear of what his last vision of you will be—will all be over.” Jason softened then and stroked my face, so gently. “How’s this sound? Now that I know how much Mike means to you, perhaps I will make sure that he finds you revoltingly displayed.”
As his laughter filled the silence, images flashed in my mind of so many horrible possibilities. I shook my head, trying to find words in the back of my closing throat. I didn’t want Mike to see. I didn’t want his last memory of me to be something horrible.
“Let me paint the picture for you.” He knelt beside me, tracing his finger slowly from my chin to my collarbones as he spoke. “I could tear a line down the centre of your body and peel you apart, leave your legs spread, intact, so that when he finds your adulterated corpse, his heart will give out, and he will fall to the ground beside you—and die.”
I crossed my hands over my chest and focused on the brown and green stains discolouring my ball gown, blocking out the roar of his hilarity. Mike would break. He would die if Jason did that to me. Already, my mere death would destroy him more than anything in this world ever could.
I had to escape—I couldn’t let him do this to Mike.
“Now, who says I'm merciless?” He continued to laugh, relishing in self-amusement, while I gauged the distance between his hands, sitting loosely over his parted knees, leaving open the one place no man was immune to pain. Then, with every ounce of force I could muster from my weakened body, I lifted my foot and slammed it down into Jason’s groin.
A balk of anguish rang out into the night. The vampire folded in, clutching his weak spot, and as I spun onto my hands and knees and jumped to my feet, his fingers wrapped my ankle. I screamed, kicking them off, but jerked away too fast, losing the grip on gravity. A wicked jolt sent me down to kiss the grass a few feet away from him, and as the blow wore off, I pushed up on my hands, spitting lawn clippings from my mouth.
“Get. Back. Here,” Jason grumbled, so strained with agony I knew there was still time.
I got back up, stumbling onto my fingertips for a second before finding my feet—and ran. Just ran, ignoring the sear of pain in my nail as I hoisted my skirt above my knees, fighting for each step I took. I wanted to look back. Wanted to see if he got up—see if he was behind me. But I’d watched enough movies to know that would be my final mistake. So I ran—my legs hot, shaky with adrenaline, making them move faster than I knew possible but not fast enough; I pictured the face of anger on the vampire behind me, feeling the crawl of my skin as I imagined him rising to his knees, watching me run—giving me a moment to believe I’d escaped.