Page 15 of To Love a Vampire
“Luca’s going to take you to bed now, Fallon.” A dense pause settles into his whisper. He says my name like it's heavy in his mouth. “Be careful who you trust.” He pauses again like he’s thinking through every word he speaks. Apprehension flits through my mind.Should I be wary of the mystics here?
“She’s taken care of herself for almost a year now.” Declan’s angry and muffled voice cuts him off. I lift my head with concentrated effort to look over my shoulder at him and to better hear him. “Don’t come ruin her fun because you found time to remember you cared about her.”
Flickering rage ignites in his eyes as Asher glares at Declan from over my head. He slowly lowers my hands from him, disengaging our bodies. My hands are clammy at my sides without him and I put all my effort into following the conversation that swirls around me, reaching to catch the words that are too high above me to touch.
The people around us have stopped dancing and talking and now watch our every move. I suddenly want to be them. For the first time in my life, I want to see what others see when they look at me—on the outside looking in.
Luca takes my hand and pulls me from between the two hybrids. We stand a couple feet from them. She pulls at my hand like we might sneak off, but I refuse to leave. The cloud in my mind lifts slightly. Declan’s words flow through my head on repeat. I, too, am intrigued in how Asher might respond.
“I didn’t forget her,” Asher says, his brow lowering in rage. He opens his mouth to explain further.
“Don’t worry, because she finally forgot you,” Declan says in a slow and low voice, cutting him off. Asher turns away from him like he might walk away entirely, shaking his head in annoyance but Declan takes a step closer to Asher. “I helped her forget you,” he adds with taunting confidence, a smirk lighting his eyes as he licks his lips.
The muscles in Asher’s arm tic. He never looks away from Declan. A few mystics glance my way questioningly, but I don’t acknowledge them. The air is sucked out of my lungs at Declan’s confession.
That’s a lie! An exaggeration and an embarrassing confession that isn’t his to confess. You can’t speak for someone, even if they refuse to speak for themselves.
A second passes between them. The relentless drums have finally stopped pounding, realizing there’s new entertainment tonight.
Asher searches Declan’s eyes, calculating. I want to scream that it isn’t true, to reassure him somehow but my tongue is thick in my mouth.
I can see Asher swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before looking around at the large crowd watching them. His eyes flash to Gabriel’s, who stands across from me with his head held high to watch every move Declan makes.
Asher leans closer to Declan, his voice just above a whisper. “If you touch her again, I’ll end your little royal life you’ve been playing at here.” A sneering smile touches his lips. “The only thing you helped her forget is that there’s probably a reason society keeps throwing away trash like you.”
Declan’s jaw tics and in a flash his fist is against Asher’s face. I gasp at the sight of blood that gushes from his mouth, startled by the cracking sound that fills the air. Asher tenses but then laughs as the blood trickles down his chin and throat.
“Finally, a fucking reaction I was expecting in this place,” Asher says, wiping the back of his hand against his bloody mouth, flinging the blood from his hand to the dirt.
Declan’s posture changes, feet apart, fists clenched the way he has countless times during our training. Asher paces a small circle in front of him, working his jaw back and forth, a twisting smile lingering on his bloody lips.
Kaino pushes his way through the mass of people, the crowd bowing around the commander. Asher nods to him in acknowledgment, a seemingly pleasant gesture between friends. Kaino doesn’t acknowledge the greeting, nor does he come between the two. It isn’t the Wanderer’s way. If confrontation occurs, it’ll be settled immediately and never spoke of again. It will not be a reoccurring event.
Asher finally stops his short circular pacing and walks predatorily back to Declan. Declan stands on edge. His mind clearly working to calculate Asher’s next move.
Standing face-to-face with one another it’s strange to think I found any similarity between them. Asher’s lean frame has become wrapped in muscle, still the beautiful hybrid I met over a year ago but stronger and angrier than he once was. I guess I am as well. It’s what heartbreak does to a person. It makes you angry, but it also makes you stronger than you ever thought you could be.
Asher gives Declan another sadistically warm smile. Gently, he raises his palm to the side of Declan’s face. Declan’s eyes follow the slow, calm movement. Asher pats his hand against Declan’s jaw the way a proud father would his son.
“When I said never to touch her again,” Asher’s eyes are lit red against the flames of the fire, his bloody smile never faltering as his low voice travels through the crowd. “That goes for me, too.” He taps his palm one last time against Declan’s jaw before shoving Declan’s face down and slamming his other fist into the side of Declan’s head. It happens so fast I barely track the movement at all.
I watch in horror as the side of Declan’s face collides with Asher’s fist, the sound of bone cracking fills the silence. The power in which Asher shoves Declan’s face and the force of his fist connecting knocks Declan out immediately.
My stomach rolls and threatens to release all the alcohol I’ve dumped into it over the last couple hours. Asher lifts his eyes from Declan’s motionless body on the ground to where I stand. The smile that was on display for Declan still mars his face but it’s a sad, forced smile now.
He takes a couple of slow confident steps toward me. A guilty look fills his face as he searches my eyes as if expecting anger there. But I’m not angry. Declan had no right to say what he did. I wish it hadn’t had happened at all but I’m not my friend's keeper.
Asher turns his head to spit, red tinged saliva covers the dirt. Blood still stains his throat, lips, and fists but when I look into his beautiful eyes, I’m filled with surprised happiness that he’s still in there. My Asher. The one that cares if I think he’s a monster or not.
“In case we never get formally introduced here,” he holds out his bloody hand to me, his closeness spreading warmth into me. “My name’s Asher Xavier.”
Eight
A Life Long Lost
Of course,I dream that night. It starts bittersweet this time. I dream of my mother. A nocturnal memory of my childhood. She’s reading a fairy tale in my tiny bedroom back at our camp, the four walls closed tightly in on us. I’m curled up next to her as she tells tales of clever princesses and daring princes. The mother-daughter bond stirs questions of my father in my childlike mind. I push the thought of my father aside and snuggle closer to my mother. Happy just to have her here.
A confused aching grows heavy in my chest, a pain that I can’t quite grasp. I smother the feeling out immediately and let my eyes drift closed as I listen to my mother’s smooth voice calm me. So different from how we spoke just before she died.
