Blinding Light (The Bloodmarked Trilogy Book 2) (9 page)

I choked on my disbelief. White hot rage exploded in my veins, and I shoved his chest. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re going to play the heartless vampire I saw you as when we met. You’re different than the rest of them.”

I thought I witnessed a crack in his façade when his jaw ticked, but I couldn’t be sure. “Regardless. It can’t continue. I lack self-discipline when I’m around you. I don’t like it. I don’t like myself when I’m around you,” he stated firmly.

Well…that hurt. I was so bad to be around, I made him hate himself. That was pretty much one of the worst blows a person could receive. I had no rebuttal. It was obvious that nothing I said would make him stay with me. I pushed it, or rather, dragged it kicking and screaming to the back of my mind to lock it away before I started crying big fat ugly tears of rejection. I would love nothing more than to be anywhere but here.

He stood there watching me with cold eyes until the bleakness left my expression and I straightened. His reaction hurt worse than being impaled on a lamppost, but I hid it all from him.

Finally, he switched topics as he droned on about the plan to take the first train out of the city in a few hours and packing a bag before then, but his voice was cold and clinical. It was difficult listening to it. The hunger came back to me like a Hulk smash to the gut. I needed blood. Now. Heartbeats rang loudly through my skull, amping up the thirst.

“Lucy,” he said. It sounded like he was speaking through a wall. He touched my arm, and I jumped at the electricity it sparked. No time for that. I shrugged out of his grasp.

“I’m fine,” I snapped.

“Go back to Helen’s place. She has blood in the fridge. I’ll go pack some things for you,” he said. He looked like he wanted to say more but instead, turned and disappeared out of sight. I sprinted as fast as
vampirically
possible to Helen’s.

†

I met him at the curb in front of Helen’s apartment building. He stood there, freshly showered and dressed in an all-black, tailored suit with the top button of his shirt undone, giving off a casual but imposing vibe. He exuded sex appeal, and to top it off, he gave me that sideways smile he knew drove me crazy in both good and bad ways.

I wanted to punch him, but that wouldn’t stop him from leaving. He already made that decision without me. I didn’t mean as much to him as I imagined, and judging by his calm, cool demeanor, he seemed even more unaffected by me than I ever thought.

My heart cracked a little more, but I plastered on a fake smile for show to hide any lingering humiliation. He stood by the opened passenger door of his Bugatti and waited as I slid in. Before he had a chance to close it, I yanked it shut, nearly missing his fingers.

He got into the driver seat and I felt his eyes on me, but I refused to look at him anymore and see how easy this was for him.

“Lucy,” he started, but I quickly shut him down.

“Don’t. You said everything you needed to say. Let’s just leave it there. Drive.”

No other words were spoken, and that was how things were left as I watched his car speeding away from the train station, away from me for good.

The train ride was uneventful and mind numbing, or heart numbing. It gave me time to think. Time to go over the incidents that led up to this very moment. Time to grieve my losses. Time to recover. Time to contemplate what awaits me in my new life. I seemed to have nothing but time and everything except time.

The train was comfortable enough. There was a funny smell I couldn’t place but didn’t dwell on it long. My brain overflowed, making it difficult to concentrate on insignificant details, like the 27 other passengers, who were mostly asleep, and the miles of farmland stretched out beyond the window pane. It all faded into the jumble of white noise in my mind.

My reflection stared back at me, cast by the lowlighting in the cabin. Seeing the color of my eyes caused me to look away. They glowed with a slightly lighter emerald than usual.

Helen had promised to meet me in Canada. She would be arriving before me due to my hasty exit. The train was the quickest way out and less obvious to anyone keeping track. Unfortunately, that also meant much slower.

There was a stage in my life when I would have loved having this much alone time, but right now, I hated it. All I could think about was how I was running from everything. There were a thousand ways I wanted to kill Shane Monroe for everyone he’s ever hurt, and I had no idea where he was. I needed to find him and whomever it was he was working with before things got worse.

And then there were the assassins, the First’s bodyguards and the ones responsible for ending my human life so thoroughly. Because of them, I was transformed into a full-blown vampire with no soul. I didn’t buy into Helen’s theory on that subject. They were also the main reason for fleeing the city, so I could hide out in some off-the-grid location where I was supposed to train with a ragtag group of Buffy wannabes in order to face the First without dying permanently.

I despised their lapdogs. It was no wonder so many of them had went off the grid and gone rogue. They were the ones tasked with the dirty work of keeping the First safe from burning up like flash paper by risking their own necks, while those high and mighty tools sat back and hid from any real threats.

Which brings me to the prophecy. I was supposed to face and defeat all the bad guys. The sound of crickets chirping echoed off my skull, taunting me. How the hell was I going to pull that one off?

And the final layer of icing on the cake was the doozy of a finale between Gavin and I that kept replaying in my mind like an awful pop song on the radio repeating every half hour.

I opened up my senses to pinpoint him, but I knew it was useless. He was blocking me like he always did. He never wanted me reading him, and I guess now I knew that was probably to protect me from getting hurt. Rejection stung like a Queen B.

With him blocking me, the connection was weak. He was still in the city from what I gleaned, but at least I knew he was alive. Memories of him beat at me like a hurricane with gale force winds battering me until I couldn’t take any more punishment.

I loved the way we could argue for hours, but it was more like foreplay to us. I loved the amount of passion packed into the simplest of touches. I had never felt anything more real, especially when I was fighting vampires.

The hate I used to harbor was such an empty emotion. It was strange to think about it now. At the time, it was the only thing that drove me, the only thing I knew and understood. Then, Gavin entered my world and shattered every notion I ever had about what it meant to truly be alive. I have never experienced that amount of depth. Until meeting him.

A wrecking ball size bomb went off in my head at the realization, making me squirm in my seat.

Holy shit
.

I was in love with Gavin West.

Maybe that should have been obvious, but to someone who has only known anguish and remorse her whole life, it wasn’t something I expected in a million years. It definitely wasn’t something I knew a vampire to be capable of. Then again, if I had been paying closer attention instead of resisting, I would have seen Gavin’s range of emotions and realized a vampire was capable of so much more.

The sharp bite of rejection clamped down even harder on my heart. I had no idea when or if I would ever see him again. The gnawing pain chewed through my chest and planted itself like a heavy and suffocating burden, one that brought a fresh round of agony with each inhalation. Things began to blur in and out of my peripheral vision. It was too much. The only logical thing was to shove it into that dark but very crowded corner of my mind. I blocked it all out and closed my eyes, praying sleep would wrestle my demons for me.

But who was I kidding? My demons were better fighters than me. I could try drowning them, but they were better swimmers. Sleep was an evasion tactic, and I was betting my demons were excellent at hide and seek. They’d find me anywhere.

After twenty minutes of restlessness, I conceded. My new vampire mind was far too sharp and efficient to need more rest this soon. However, during that period, the one thing it did require became glaringly obvious.

The sounds of beating hearts replaced the piercing hum of steel wheels over rails. The funky, musty scent was replaced by the sweet tang of fresh blood.

My palms rubbed against my legs before clenching into fists. If I could sweat, there would have been beads dripping down my forehead. Being trapped in a steel cabin with all these victims was not the most thought out plan. And I was supposed to get on a plane next. Perfect.

“Are you okay?” a woman’s voice broke through the blood rush behind my ears.

I whipped my head in her direction and feared she might notice the inhuman speed. She sat in the seat across the aisle, looking at me with concern.

“Whoa, your eyes…” she trailed off with surprise.

My teeth clenched with the effort not to expose the now protruding fangs. I stopped inhaling to keep the smell from invading the last of my remaining senses.

She appeared frightened, more for herself now than for me. “They’re… they’re very unique. They look like they’re glowing. I’ve never seen eyes so light. They’re almost white. But you don’t look so good. Do you need anything? Water or something?” she asked with a shaky voice.

She was a nervous rambler. Her heart rate accelerated at an alarming pace, and I had to bail before I got what I really needed.

I swiped my bag off the floor and practically sprinted to the bathroom, causing a few curious stares to follow. Once locked inside, I tore through the backpack and sunk my fangs into one of the blood bags Gavin packed for me. I drained it instantly and started on the next, hoping to conserve the last one for my pre-flight meal. The cravings seemed to be getting worse and more frequent.

It took a herculean effort to stop myself from ripping into the third bag. I splashed water on my face in an effort to wash away the drops of blood at the corners of my mouth and to shock my senses back.

Glaring at my reflection in the mirror, I willed those light, minty green eyes to turn back to emerald. I grasped the small metal basin of the sink in my palms for support. When the deep green crept back into my eyes and my fangs retracted, the blood-induced fog cleared, and I noticed the incessant knocking on the door.

I let go of the sink to grab my bag, and the two palm shaped indentions stood out like a supernatural calling card. Collecting myself, I opened the door to face a man in a suit coat.

“Is everything alright, miss?” he asked, irritation evident in his voice.

“Peachy,” I sighed and shouldered passed him. His eyes remained on me the whole way back to my seat. Day one of Lucille Masters’ new life was off to a fantastic start.

†

The plane ride went by much the same as the train. I was on edge the whole trip. I almost convinced myself that it had nothing to do with the blood, that it was some sort of phantom appetite for Mountain Dew. I used to run off of the stuff and remembered what it tasted like. It didn’t appeal to me anymore, but the satisfaction it gave me had to be lingering somewhere inside. The mounting agitation and unease couldn’t just be for blood.

It was a nice delusion for a while. But it always boiled down to blood. This was my reality now, even if I still grappled with the idea that a part of me was human, not a monster.

Glancing out the window, I watched as I crept down a deserted two-lane highway in a snap blizzard that sprung up immediately after the plane landed in Thunder Bay, Ontario. My driver was a hefty, middle-aged man named Allen who had dark hair and a matching beard. He met me in baggage claim with his kind brown eyes and quiet demeanor. He has barely said two words to me, only speaking up to give me weather updates and ETAs, which I appreciated.

At the rate we were going, the normally three-hour drive to the compound would probably take about eight hours. The proximity weighed on my chest as if I were headed to prison. Helen had given me a brief overview, telling me it was twenty miles from the nearest town and it was a self-sufficient estate with its own cook and cleaning staff. Leaving wasn’t really necessary.

Enjoying my last stretch of freedom, I took a small amount of comfort from the white out conditions. Looking out the back passenger window made it seem as if I was wrapped in a big blanket, safe from the outside world, safe from worries. I could see a lot further than the human eye, but all the fluffy white flakes created a giant cocoon, insulating us for miles with its cloaking protection.

Allen’s white knuckles gripped the steering wheel tighter as he leaned toward the windshield trying to navigate our snow-covered path. I would have offered to drive for him if it didn’t mean answering the question of how I was more qualified at his job than he was. Somehow, I didn’t think he would buy that my eyesight was much sharper and my reflexes were far quicker than his. So we continued to inch forward at snail speed.

I spent the rest of the ride soaking up the solitude while it lasted. My mind never once wandered into dangerous territory. I thought about my lack of travel experience and all the places I would one day like to see. After watching miles of frosty, white washed pines go by and reading names on several signs like Bear Creek or Antler Road, I was so ready for a beach vacation. Luckily, the whole ride was pretty peaceful and uneventful. No cravings.

†

Seven hours after departing the airport, we finally pulled onto a narrow, unmarked road off the highway, barely visible unless you were searching for it. Allen stopped to put the SUV in four-wheel drive and add chains to the tires. We trudged carefully through the mounds of drifts. Century-old firs and pines loomed high above us on either side of the invisible path.

About a mile down the road was a sharp curve to the left. We opted for the slimmer lane to the right, which was marked with an imposing stone wall and wide open wrought iron gate.

Fortunately for Allen, this drive was recently cleared of snow. A decent pile stood to the left of the gate. Above the snow mound, a metal plaque glinted in contrast with the stone wall. The engraving read Wolf Creek Manor. Go figure.

“This is the place, mam,” Allen explained.

Awesome. Can’t wait
, I replied silently.

The trees began to thin as we ascended the drive sluggishly. We rounded a large bend that opened up to an expansive, barren yard. Standing proudly, in the middle, was a grand French chateau.

I wasn’t exactly sure what I expected. Maybe a substantial concrete building surrounded by chain-link fences rimmed by barbed wire and men outfitted with assault rifles and uniforms. Maybe that was just my imagination providing the picture of what I assumed would be my home for the unforeseeable future, but I certainly did not expect to be shacking up with Daddy Warbucks.

As we rounded the circle drive, we came to a full stop in front of a stone staircase guarded on either side by intimidating wolf statues. They sat tall, baring their teeth at any unwelcomed visitor, which was probably everyone. Especially me.

“Let me get your bags, miss,” Allen offered.

“No, thank you, Allen. I can manage. Stay put and keep warm. Besides, I only have the one bag,” I answered as I handed him a generous tip for braving a natural disaster.

“Thank you, miss.”

“Get home safe, Allen.” I shut the door, turning to gaze up at my new home.

It was three stories high with turrets on either end, encapsulated by tall spires. Each turret contained oriel windows supported by thick corbels. My eyes were drawn inward to the receded stone façade of the connecting towers and the even more receded walls of the main building. There were gabled dormers rimming the rooftop, which were bordered by battlements. The steep pitch of the roof drew my eye line to what looked like spotlights perched at the very top. Maybe I wasn’t so off base with the prison inferences.

The sound of people shuffling around inside refocused my attention to the massive double doors in front of me, tucked beneath a sturdy depressed arch. Light footsteps approached and stopped just beyond the entryway.

Let the fun begin.

Before I made it to the top step, the front door swung wide open to reveal a perky Helen dressed in a pencil skirt and loose ivory blouse.