Page 51 of A Shadow in the Reaping
I have a feeling joking around isn't going to get me very far. He's been in a dark and humourless mood since I mentioned Andy Cartwright, so I guess I need to take a different approach.
You seem to know, so why don't YOU tell ME.
Ashen sighs and closes his book, setting it down on the side table before he takes a long sip of his wine and then sets that down too.
"You are obviously an ancient soul. You don't know who your maker is."
So what? And thanks for telling me I'm old. Yeesh.
"All vampires know who their maker is."
I'm not all vampires.I spin my note to face him and give him a death stare when he meets my eyes. He leans forward in a challenge.
"Precisely my point.”
I burst from my chair like it's on fire, even though I have no place to go. Fuck it, I'll hang out in the bathroom if I have to. I'll hide there until I can figure out a way to flush myself down the toilet to freedom all Shawshank style. He’s in hard pursuit of my history now and I knew it, I just knew he'd start digging at me sooner or later. I've been fooling myself into believing otherwise. I've convinced myself that he cares enough for me to let it go.
I was wrong.
I sweep my pen and journal off the table and start marching toward the bathroom when Ashen grabs my arm.
"Why do you not want to tell me? What is it that frightens you so much about telling me who you are and where you came from?" he asks, letting go when I rip my arm away.
I scratch my pen with fury across a fresh page. The tip nearly pierces the paper by the end.Are you fucking serious?
I have such an urge to use my voice. It would explain so much, just a word or two. It would put everything into perspective for Ashen. He would finally understand. And then he would rush right out of his room and find his sister, or the new guy Cole that needs some kills under his belt, or pretty much anyone to do the reaping for him. So I clamp my mouth shut and give him the death stare to end all death stares. But as is sometimes the way with frustration and anger and hurt that you bury deep, I feel the swell of enraged tears burning in my eyes.
Christ, I fuckingHATE ITwhen this happens.
I swallow down the knot in my throat and focus on the wavering sheet of paper in my hands.
The less you know about me, the less chance I'll have of one day being chained to your doors, or pulling your carriages, or wandering alone as nothing more than a fucking ghost in the library. The fucking LIBRARY, where you would celebrate my name beneath yours as another great kill for the glory of House Urbigu on your polished marble slab. Then you would just forget whatever it is I did to wind up reaped in the first place. Before long you'd forget who I was or what I could have meant to you. I'd be just another specter that either does your bidding or wails in the fog or stands like a pitiful shell of a soul in the corner somewhere. Well, fuck that shit, Reaper. Fuck. That. SHIT.
I tear the page from the journal and slap it to Ashen's chest, not waiting to watch his reaction when he starts to read. I push past him and skirt around the bed, sitting on the edge and whacking my journal down on those fucking luxurious sheets that I wish I could hate but I can't. They're just so fucking great.
I press my palms to my eyes and try to swallow the lump that just keeps getting bigger with every breath I take. I decide I can't sit on these ridiculous sheets a second longer and I erupt from the bed like lava, smacking my face right into the Reaper's chest. He catches my arms and spins me away from the bed, pressing my back to the wall. I can tell by his grip I could pull away and he would let me, but I don't want to, and I don't want to think about why.
"You are not only a particularly acerbic vampire, but a dramatic one as well," Ashen says as his eyes brighten with flame. The scent of unsmoked tobacco and mint and ink fills my senses. Part of me wants to hiss right in his fucking Reaper face but I see something more than just frustration in his eyes as they land on my lips. "You are hiding in that strange little town. You don't want me to know where you belong among your clan. Do you think I didn't already figure out long ago that you must have done something for which you could be punished? Has it not then occurred to you I have never harmed you? That I've sought to protect you?"
Welldang. So much for hiding in plain sight. He probably thinks I told a human I was a vampire, and hence I'm on the run. But there is a big difference between telling some bloodbags that immortals exist and, you know,killing a fucking Reaper.
Also,protecting meis a bit rich. Besides, it's not like he has much of a choice but to play nice-ish.
I tear one of my arms free with unnecessary force and Ashen rolls his eyes. I jab a finger to his chest, hoping that the spot is still sore, then I poke his arm where the tattoo is. I draw my thumb across my throat and then tick my finger back and forth in his face until he pushes it away.
"Yes, your spell prevents me from killing you but we both know I could have called in another Reaper to do the job. Any one of them would relish the opportunity to pull secrets from a bright soul in the Shadow Realm until they found a crime worthy of punishment. My sister most of all."
My glare intensifies as Ashen breaks down my arguments and throws my fears into the light. We stare at one another, my other wrist still warm within Ashen's grasp. My heart feels like a wild bird trapped in a cage, bounding from one set of bars to the next. I try to keep hold of a fierce vampiric stare but I can feel it dissolving. Ashen leans a little closer, his eyes fixed on mine.
"You want to know why I pulled you from the fight in Sanford?"
I swallow a breath. I give the slightest nod.
"Because you surprised me. You intrigued me. You were not what I expected. That you might fall in the fight, in some dirty alley of such a ridiculous little town, it didn't just seem like a waste. It felt... wrong. It felt like something irreplaceable was about to be lost. Like I had just found something worth saving, even though I didn't understand why."
Each beat of my heart detonates in my chest. The air catches in my lungs. We look at one another, unmoving. The fight in my flesh evaporates with every second that passes. I relax my arm in Ashen's grip and his palm slides down my arm until it meets mine. Our fingers interlace as he presses our hands to the wall, his movement slow and careful, his eyes never leaving mine. I hear the rush of blood through the chambers of his heart as he moves even closer. How there's any space between us I just don't know, and every place his body touches mine it feels like fire beneath my skin.
"You are acerbic and dramatic but you are also brave. You fear yet challenge this place. You fear yet challenge me," he says, his breath warm as it spills across my lips. His other hand finds my side, laying heat across my bones. I close my eyes, trying to calm the coil of need that snakes its way through my belly. When I open them his gaze is waiting for me, fiery and fierce, molten with desire. "You are like the wind or the sea, like an elemental force of nature. You feared me and yet I'm the one who is left defenseless as you dismantle my walls, stone by stone."
