Page 94 of Club Blood

The fire behind her eyes was only simmering, now. I guess it was a welcome improvement, but it still couldn’t touch the passion I’d shared with her. This was not us.

“It’s done,” she said. Her voice was still cold and unfeeling, but I could tell it was masking an emotion I could not touch. She shoved it so far down in her chest that it was unreachable.

“Well done, Queenie,” Warren said, walking up to her and embracing her in a familiar hug. She didn’t flinch away from his touch, but she didn’t quite hug him back, either. Warren didn’t seem phased by her lack of warmth, instead he pulled her closer, leaving his arm draped pleasantly across her shoulders, “The bitch is dead, we need to celebrate!”

“Now’s not exactly the time to celebrate,” I said harshly, narrowing my eyes at him. My gaze flitted towards Cecelia, my heart sinking when she didn’t return it.

“Get over it you two,” he growled before turning his head casually over his shoulder, “Henrik!”

The big lumbering guard smiled sheepishly as he came up behind Warren. Their affection did not surprise me, but it did make me wary. Even though he’d proven himself an ally in his actions against Carlisle, I was still not in the headspace to trust so easily. Warren seemed pleased, at least for now. We would see how long his attention holds. I had the feeling that this one, despite the chaos that surrounded him, was different. But Warren was a slippery man to nail down.

Cecelia no longer seemed phased by the speed in which our kind moved about. Another indication that she was adapting to our kind. She looked rather bored, her face set in a neutral position that made me uncomfortable. For someone who had just killed the woman who tried to killher, we were all acting surprisingly cavalier about it. Sensing my distress, Warren cleared his throat.

“Can you just kiss and make up already?” his eyebrows raised as Cecelia sneered in his direction, “or at least talk about it? I’d hate to live in this house with so much tension. You could cut it with a fucking knife.”

As if he had nothing left to say, Warren started walking toward the stairs to his quarters he’d claimed on another level, dragging Henrik behind him by the front of his shirt. Henrik looked back toward us both and mouthed “I’m sorry!” with a frightened expression. For such a terrifying monster, he was rather dorky. I suppose he’s better to be around when you’renothis enemy.

After Warren and Henrik had disappeared to engage in their own intimate activities, I gestured towards the couch they’d occupied moments before.

“Care to sit?”

She walked with me, but stood cross armed instead while I enveloped myself into the plush cushions. “Fine,I’llsit.”

“I have so much to say to you, but also absolutely nothing at all,” her voice wavered slightly, it was the only indication that she felt as heartbroken about it all as I did. I sighed, dropping my face into my palms again, leaning forward onto my knees.

“I don’t blame you,” I said softly.

“I’m so fuckingangrywith you, Mercy.”

“I already told you that I was sorry! Do you want me to say I would never do it again? Because I can’t promise that. I would die over and over again if it meant I didn’t have to live without you. You have every right to be angry with me, but you must also understand!”

“Of course I understand!” her voice was an octave higher than it usually was, and the piercing screech of it made me wince, “It’s impossible to imagine a world without you in it, also. This is the problem, though, you just take and take and take, under the guise of promising free will. And then you takethatchoice away from us, too. You refuse to acknowledge that there are more feelings and opinions at play than yours. You play the part of a hero, but act the part of a villain. Mercy, you cannot be both things!”

I curled my hands into fists, rolling my tongue in my mouth and waiting for Cecelia to blow. Her anger was back, full of licking flames that made me clench my thighs together. While I knew there was a part of her that was correct in her experiences of me, I couldn’t let her continue. She only truly understood one half of the story.

“I never promised to be the hero of your story, Cecelia,” my tone was ice to her fire. We continued staring at one another, and I wondered which side would yield first, “you fell in love with the devil. I have made it very clear what my life looks like.”

“I didn’tchooseyour life, Mercy. You did that for me. I didn’t want this!”

“Bullshit!” I screamed, “You chose this the minute you stepped into bed with me. I will not be held responsible for the choices you made up to your mortal death,” at the mention of death she stepped back, physically affected by the word, “I took you, I housed you as a prisoner. But you had the choice to not fall in between my legs. I am not the only one at fault, sweet little flower. You cannot blame me for falling for the temptress, much as I cannot blame you for falling for the princess.”

I hated the nickname, but it felt the most accurate to who I was at this moment. I was a princess pretending to be a queen. The tension was thick in the air around us, bordering on sensuality.

I could witness the confusion in her eyes. She understood, I knew she did, but she desperately wanted not to. She wanted to blame me for the parasite now settling inside her, and wanted to blame me forlikingthe power she now felt.

“You can pretend to still be the sweet unknowing girl who wandered intoAmbrosia,” I said to her, “But you stopped being that person a long time ago now. You fucked a vampire. You killed a Known. Youdied. I did not force you to do those things, I was just the one that brought you back.”

I turned to walk away from her, although every fiber of my being felt that I couldn’t. I took only two steps until Cecelia was at my back. Her hands wrapped around my throat in half an embrace, half a threat.

“You do not walk away from me,” she hissed. I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Then you do notdieon me again, deal?”

She let go, putting two rough hands on my shoulders and turning me to face her. There was a sorrow that passed her features, regret, but also acceptance.

“You will never make a choice like that for me again.”

“I swear on my soul,” I promised, “for what it’s worth— I know I am the villain in every story. I know I am a selfish creature. And I am selfish enough to ask you for one more thing.”

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