Page 23 of Kept 2
“You would dare?” she frowned, “after the care I have lavished upon you?”
“I despise you,” I growled, stalking towards her.
“You will love me, Nicky, as I love you.”
“Love? You do not know the meaning of the word, you vile bitch. I will never, ever love you.”
“Then I grant your wish – you shall die this night.”
I smiled then, as she flew at me and sunk long, hitherto hidden, fangs into my neck. I laughed as she sucked, tears I could see, running down her cheeks. I laughed as the life was drained from me and I fell into blackness.
But it was all lies. For tonight here I am, alive and well and fallen into Hell.
At my feet lies a woman, a lady in waiting no less, her throat ripped out and I, I who claim to revile the vicious monster who bit me, have become what I detest so much.
I killed this poor woman, sucked the very lifeblood from her. I am a monster, a creature of the night. I must destroy myself. I cannot exist like this.
And yet…
Even as I write this, I hear footsteps coming down the hall, I hear a heartbeat even through these thick stone walls, and blood pumping through veins – and I want more.
New Entry
Three months I have avoided her, lived like a rat in the sewers of this disgusting city, eaten anyone who crosses my path when the sun sets – but tonight, she found me.
“Come, Nicky,” she said, staring down at me as I grovelled on the cobblestones in the dark alley, feasting on the body before me, opened from neck to navel, “enough is enough. I will bring you to heel this night.”
“I go nowhere with you,” I growled, rising from the stones and launching myself at her. My fangs narrowly missed her face as she batted me away and sprang to the end of the alley.
“You will return to the court. Clean up, get out of these rags and dress once more as the royal you are - and come, once more, to my bed,” she commanded.
“How did you find me?” I asked quietly, stalking her as she stood at the ready for my next attack.
“I told you, we are linked, you and I - I will always know where you are, always know what you feel.”
“Unless you die,” I growled, launching myself at her once more.
“You have a great deal more training to do before you can defeat someone as old or strong as I,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she took in my expression. “So, this is your final word? You will not rejoin me?”
“Never.”
“Then know this, Lord Nicholas Montague. You will always have an enemy in me. You will never again know love.”
“I don’t expect I will,” I said quietly, straightening from my crouch and staring her in the face.
She turned then, but not before I saw the glint of tears on her cheeks. I thought about trying another attack, jumping onto her back and ripping her head off with my bare hands. But other, more pressing, thoughts were warring in my mind. She had called me Lord, which meant my father was dead.
It is time, I have decided, to return to the family Estate and murder my mother.
Then, I will take a little side trip, perhaps, to Ireland, to destroy the man who took away my faith in God.
Then, well then, who knows.
I close my phone and shake my head again. It really wasn’t his fault he was turned – but what he has done since, that is all on him. I frown. How does his bloodthirsty lifestyle now gel with what happened to him? How does he justify his actions?
‘And who fucking cares?’another small part of my brain answers for me.
I snort and rise, pausing to place the bunch of forget-me-nots I had picked nearby, onto Constance’s grave. They were the same as the flower he had kept pressed in his last journal – a flower I had carefully put back into the page it had fluttered out from, pressed between his words.
