My hands shot up to cover my chest as my bra came loose, leaving a cool feeling around my ribs.
“Just think of the things he’ll imagine when he finds it.” Jason laughed, and we both watched as, like a ribbon on the breeze, blue lace floated to the earth below—a part of me finally to touch the hands of the man I loved once more.
“I’m sorry, Mike,” I whispered.
Jason smiled down at my crossed arms—the kind of smile David would use. “Are you cold?”
I hadn’t felt it before, but while the hope of rescue faded, a chill had seeped in. I nodded softly.
“Here.” He lifted me into his lap and wrapped my body around him; my legs on either side of his hips; my chest against the silky fabric of his suit. Perfect position to scratch his eyes out. “Be nice, Ara, and you shall live longer.”
“Stop trying to kill me and I’ll be nice,” I said.
“Right now,” he whispered into my cheek, making my skin crawl with the gentle caress of his fingers down my spine, “I am not trying to kill you.”
“No, but you shouldn’t hold me this way. I don’t belong to you.”
“But you want to belong to me.” His words came out with a smile.
“You’re just confusing my mind. It’s not real.”
“It’s as real as you want it to be.”
I went to speak, but the truth swallowed my retort. I did want him. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to move his lips from their gentle caress over my shoulder, to the purlieu of my mouth, and kiss me. I had no control over my hand; I felt myself slowly move it, as if by instinct, and cup the side of his neck, my breath falling heavily against his jaw with soft little kisses. And even when I felt him grow between my legs, not one part of me wanted to move away. I saw what my brain craved, saw myself reaching down to unzip him—slip him inside me, and dared not move in case I obeyed that desire.
“Mmm,” he hummed, running his hands down my thighs. “You’re getting hotter. This will make a nice memory to show my brother—the way you hold me as if I were him.”
“In my mind, it is him,” I whispered.
“And yet—” he grabbed my wrists and yanked me away from his chest, “—when you scream for mercy, it will be my name on your lips.”
I pulled my elbows in to cover myself. “And in that, you will become everything you despise about him.”
“I am nothing like him.”
“An eye for an eye says otherwise.”
Like a flash going off in my face, my mind blanked for a second, waking to a branch against my spine, my fingers clutching it tightly to stop from falling to depths of the empty space behind me. And as the shock of his slap wore down to the pain, I wanted so badly to cry out to the hunters below—to David. To yell out and beg him to save me. I couldn’t understand why he never came. Surely, my dad called him—told him what happened.
“I’m sorry.” Jason gently laid my arm across my bare chest. “It is horrible that he made you believe you meant something to him.”
I looked up, livid with spite. “I meant everything to him.”
“And, yet, you refer to yourself in the past tense. So, you understand then, that vampires move on?”
“I—” I wiped my cheek on my shoulder, trying to blot away the last of his slap. “I don’t know.”
Jason smiled sympathetically. “Yes, you do.”
Below, the voices of the hunters became louder over the savage barking of dogs, headed quickly in our direction.
“Oh, look.” Jason pointed down. “Your replacement has unearthed a clue.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
I turned my head to see a shadowed figure drop to its knees at the base of the tree, his anguished, incomprehensible sobs rising up audibly, like I was standing beside him. In his open palms, the lacy fabric laid, spilling the taunting tale—a truth I knew he’d feared this whole time. “Oh, baby. What has he done to you?”
“Mike!” Emily ran up behind him, barely able to catch her breath. “What did you fi—” but her words stopped short as her steps slowed, and a crowd gathered around them, dogs tugging at their master’s leads, eager to catch the scent in Mike’s hands.
“I’ll take that, Mike,” a man said, scooping up the lacy delicate, passing it to a man in uniform.
I looked away, my limbs running hot with shame. All I could control in my world were my own tears, so I held them back—holding my breath as if that might keep them at bay. “You’re a monster, Jason.”
“Let’s see if you can’t come up with a new name for me once I finish with you. Now...” He pressed a flat palm to my chest and slowly pushed me backward. “Shall we continue?”
The scratch of bark on each bone in my spine meant nothing to me. I held onto the branch with both hands, letting tears trickle down my temples and over my ears as I watched my Zorro walk away—stumbling through his own, deep agony. Emily wrapped her arm around him, and as each person finally melted into the shadows, the emptiness their silence left behind took the last promise of survival. I closed my eyes, whispering goodbye.
“Are you done feeling sorry for yourself now?” Jason asked, looking down at me with a smug grin.
“Should I be?”
“Perhaps not.” He pried my hand away from the branch and held it up, leaning closer. “Do me a favour. Don’t scream.”
Would there be any point?
“No.” He moved in with his mouth open then stopped. “Do you always answer a question with a question?”
“Only when I’m being murdered and have no other means of defence.”
The vampire smiled warmly. “Don’t worry. This isn’t the murder part yet.”
“Oh, good. I can relax then.” I pulled tightly against him as he drew my wrist toward his mouth, the point of his fangs showing in his smile, reminding me of the story David told about the effects of venom on the human condition.
The scar David left on my other hand tingled, and as the cold touch of Jason’s lips mopped my flesh, I shut my eyes tight, digging my nails into the branch, waiting for the sear of his razor teeth. They popped through the surface, like the first cut in the flesh of a peach, and the scream I promised not to release etched its way up my throat. I jammed my tongue against the roof of my mouth, twisting my lips, fighting against all human urges. I felt his bite ease, felt him draw the blood up past his teeth like string up a straw, felt the spicy venom rush along my veins, pulsing and twisting them like worms under sand.