Page 41 of Blood Lust

He lied.

He knows more than he’s letting on. I always had a feeling that he was keeping something from me. They all are. Never did I think it would be this huge. Did he stage all of this? Was he behind my accident? Trusting he could save me in time to turn me into a vampire like him?

So many questions, not enough answers, and not enough time. I can sense dawn’s approach. An hour, though it seems like weeks, has passed since I returned to our home in the mountains. One more to go by the looks of things.

“WREN!”

I definitely hear him now. He is close, too close. I instinctively want to call back, so he can comfort me, tell me this is all in my head, and mean it. I focus my thoughts on the sun to restrain myself, and I give nothing away. I will not give in to desire and reveal myself.

“Damn it, Wren! Where the fuck are you?” He sounds more scared than angry.

Scared that I discovered his plot, and that I know he betrayed me.

Just like Spence.

“Wren, please, it was a mistake. We all know you didn’t mean to kill him. It was just an accident. Please, let me help you.” More excuses for my behavior. More ignoring the fact that this whole thing is a setup. He doesn’t know I remember. I know he will find me. His voice is getting closer still. I can leave, but I don’t want to abandon the spot I’ve chosen to die. It’s so beautiful here.

It was a mistake. I scoff. How naive does he think I am?

Crashing to my left tells me he is here and has finally found me.

“Little bird.” He runs to me, hugging me, kissing my unmoving lips still covered in Spencer’s blood. “I was so worried. Please, come with me. The sun will rise soon, and you need your rest.”

He tries to tug my arm, but I don’t move.

The joy of finding me evaporates from his face.

“Wren?” He crouches before me, his eyes searching mine. “Wren, talk to me, beautiful. What’s going on?”

Beautiful?

Me?

The murderer.

I close my eyes in pain.

It isn’t right. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fucking fair.

I am a good person. I don’t deserve this. Tears stream down my cheeks, and my voice finally finds purchase in my throat.

“You lied.” I let acid sizzle on the words. “You told me all this, finding me, saving me. It was an accident.”

“It wa-”

“QUIT FUCKING LYING TO ME!” I scream at him, standing in my righteous anger.

His mouth stops moving, eyes wide as he rises to stand with me. Good, he is afraid I can hurt him. I want to hurt him.

No, I don’t.

I only want to hurt myself.

“You knew. You knew I was vulnerable and that you could save me. You made us crash. So that you can play the hero.” I accuse him of it all. Every last bit of it is an orchestrated part of his master plan. I don’t care how ridiculous it sounds. “And then, what joy you must’ve felt that I had no memory. Fear of me leaving to go back to my life was gone.”

Silence falls. He doesn’t deny it. Oh, I can see the cogs turning. He is trying to figure out how to lie his way out of this one.

Oz kneels on the forest floor before me, reaching for my hand, but I pull it out of his reach, relishing the hurt look on his face.

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