Page 89 of The Blood we Crave: Part Two

Entry #41

The music box was perfect. I knew from the second I saw it in the shop, she would love it. Her lovely voice whispering thank you into the darkness had almost been enough for me to reveal myself. It’s a shame our secret moment in the Library Tower was ruined by her friends. They are getting closer and closer to the Halo, which means I’ll have to deal with Stephen’s bad mood for a while longer. Seeing her is worth it, though.

He’d been the ghost in the Library Tower, had heard everything the girls and I talked about that day and reported it back to his master like a lost fucking dog.

I flip the pages, digging, searching for the words I know are coming. There is a boiling inside of me, burning, and I can feel it heating my blood.

He isn’t here for revenge on Thatcher for wounding him.

He is here for me.

Entry #45

Stephen is still having a problem understanding my fascination with Lyra, but I don’t question his desire to keep Coraline Whittaker in his basement even though we were supposed to sell her a year ago. I think he knows now the only way I’ll start mimicking that ego-obsessed roach, Henry, is if I can have Lyra at the end of all this. And Stephen needs me, knows I’m the only one capable of doing it. Maybe what he struggles with the most is that I no longer crave the money and power we discussed ages ago. All I want is her.

Entry #50

She is not my mother. She is not the kind of woman who throws her body around or torments those who love her. She is not like the filthy, disgusting women who infest this world with their manipulation. I know that. I know that my gentle girl is simply…distracted. But it is, however, discouraging, knowing that she is with him. Runs to him. I’ll make him suffer for touching her.

Entry #58

I can’t wait to leave this place behind. Stephen’s constant raging about taking back the town that righteously belonged to his family is growing tiring. It’s the same story as when we met in college. However, I cannot judge his motivations. Not when he has always known what I am, what I do behind closed doors since we met years ago. I can keep killing these girls for his gain if it means I have his protection on the back end. As long as I can be with her in the end. I wonder where Miss Abbott would like to go? I’ll take her anywhere.

Entry #62

I will slay that stupid little fucking prick. I’ve been killing longer than he’s been alive and he thinks he’s scary waving his knife around? Stabbing me in the mouth? He has no fucking clue the pain I can put him through. Only a few more weeks. Just a few more weeks and I’m going to slit his throat while she watches. She will see that I’m the only man for her. She will apologize for disrespecting me.

I stop reading, having seen enough.

Conner Godfrey is the Imitator.

It’s his hands that were responsible for all those dead girls turning up. Innocent girls who had done nothing to deserve the fate they were given.

An eerie calm settles into the marrow of my bones. The rotting of my soul had begun, and I can feel the infestation of darkness swarming inside of me like a horde of flies.

It isn’t anger or sadness that I feel. No, it’s utter desolation. The world had left me barren, and I want to fill the gaps it left in me with so much vengeance I alone could fuel a thousand wars.

I set the book down on the table, staring at him but not really seeing him. It could be the adrenaline that absorbs my fear of the gun he is still holding, but in this moment, getting shot doesn’t bother me.

Nothing does.

“You killed May.”

It’s not a question, just an impassive statement said with a steady tone and mild temperament. I had once again been left to show the world how cold my gentle heart could become.

“I had no choice.” He shifts, walking around the table in a rush. Squatting down in front of me, one warm hand cupping my cheek, he stares up at me with eyes filled with twisted adoration. “Don’t you see? I did all of this for us so that we could be together. You and I, we are the same. You are unafraid of the darkness—you embrace it. We were meant to be, Lyra.”

“You knew my mother.”

“I tried to protect her from Henry, I did. I tried to love her, Lyra.”

I blink coldly. “You’re the reason the police are hunting Thatcher.”

The motivation to pacify him until help arrived had drained from me. I no longer need or want help. I am perfectly content exactly where I sit.

His grip tightens a fraction, lips pressing into a thin line at the mention of Thatch.

“Don’t talk about him. We can worry about him later.” He sighs. “I want to talk about us. This is the start of our forever, sweet girl. I have waited my entire life for you, the one who understands me. Sees me.”

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