Page 22 of The Vampire Trap

I close my eyes, releasing the hot tears I can no longer hold back. I shake my head. I’ve never been able to handle confrontations like this or stand seeing someone upset over something I’ve said or done.

“At first…” I hiccup as a sob forces its way free. There is far too much I want to say, and I don’t know if he’s willing to listen to me until the end. I’m not sure when things changed, but now, there is one thing I do know. “It wasn’t supposed to be real—but it was.”

“How can you stand there, telling me you think I’m guilty of such gruesome acts while claiming that you haven’t been deceiving me since the moment we met?”

It’s understandable for him to feel confused. Nothing about it makes sense to me, either. Subterfuge is not my strong point. I wasn’t supposed to grow to like him—but how could I not?

The ache and longing in my heart make it hard to think until his fingers wrap around my wrist when I go to wipe my face with my hands.

My eyes widen at his proximity and how, despite how I’ve wronged him, he still stopped me from bringing the silver claw near my face. I’m not so distraught as to be that senseless. Nonetheless, the gesture speaks volumes. I straighten my fingers and let it drop to the floor.

“Forgive me,” I plead. “Please, forgive me.”

Thomas releases me, then brushes his thumbs under my eyes and over my cheeks. “Tell me whatever you have to say, and I will hear you out.”

Grateful for his ability to read me in a way no one else has ever been able to, I pull in a shaky breath and nod.

“I don’t think—I haven’t—” I stumble, then start again from the beginning. “I did attend the ball because the evidence pointed to you. I thought I could stop you. But from the moment we first spoke, you were nothing like I expected.” Pausing, I glance up. What I have to say next will make him hate me.

He patiently waits for me to continue.

“I was supposed to kill you tonight, but I couldn’t—I didn’t want to—not without definitive proof. I also invaded your privacy and then hurt you. I don’t expect you to believe me when I say I have come to care for you so much, it frightens me?—”

“I believe you.”

“You do?” I feel as if I should question his sanity. Anyone in his position would be furious.

Thomas presses a finger to my forehead. “I already told you, I know when you are lying.” Then his arms are around me, one hand moving in soothing circles up and down my spine.

I can no longer pretend I haven’t fallen for him.

CHAPTER NINE

ZADIE

Now that I have begun telling him the truth, there is no stopping. He might not hate me yet, but I am not done with what I must say.

“I have never enjoyed spending time with anyone as much as I have with you this past week.” I murmur into his shirt. I’m not sure he can even understand me.

I step out of his embrace and call on years of practice to regain control of my emotions. I hate how it feels like one of the hardest things I have ever done. I don’t deserve comfort, and he has the right to know everything.

For the next hour, I tell him each step of our scheme—leaving no detail out. When I tell him of the wounds on each victim and the connection each one has to him. As I go on, Thomas looks like he might be sick.

He paces back and forth in front of me. “It’s my fault they’re dead.”

“It’s not,” I insist.

Thomas stops and grips my shoulders. “It is—though I swear to you I am not behind these murders.” His anguish turns to fierce determination. “I will put an end to them.”

Though I’ve lost someone I care for before I even realized it and broken my own heart, at least Sangate will soon be safe again.

I smile at him as if that’s the only thing in this world I want and step back, letting his hands fall away. My skin feels chilled in the wake of the warmth of his touch.

“Thank you, for listening to me… and for what you will do to help.” I move to the door and stop without looking back. “I will leave at first light.”

Then I turn and make my way back to the guest room. I pick my discarded skirt off the floor and drape it over a chair, then lie down on the bed to get what sleep I can before dawn.

A gentle knock wakes me. It’s still the middle of the night because it’s still too dark to make out more than vague shapes.

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