Falling to Pieces (4 page)

“Yes, I did. I thought it was just new blood.” I told the truth, but I knew this had to have more meaning.

“You didn’t find the source?”

“No, Thomas.” I waved my hand around suffering tightness in my chest. “I’m tired, I have to sleep, to heal.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

He sighed as he stood up.

“I want you to think carefully about why you attacked me. I need an explanation. Did you do this based on a scent? What is it you can smell? I need to know.” My voice tailed off into a whisper. 

I knew he’d heard me as he closed my bedroom door, because I heard him let out a heavy sigh. I only wished I had the energy to stay awake to question him further.

I tested out my healing rate, successfully rolling over before falli
ng into an unpreventable sleep.

I straightened my spine out, pushing the small of my back into the mattress. Pursing my lips I blew out hard with relief. No pain or audible crunch from the movement indicated that my spine had fully healed.

Behind the crimson velvet drapes in my room lay the thick oak shutters. They were pressed firmly against the windows and were painted black to match the red and black theme of my bedroom.

My mind screamed that beyond those shutters lay sunlight, while my body protested that it needed blood.

I checked the clock beside the bed. It wouldn’t be long before the fireball in the sky would disappear from sight to be replaced by the moon.

Hoisting myself up to a half sitting position, I leaned on my elbows blinking rapidly in the darkness. My vision was diminished and not much better than a human’s sight. I slipped away from the comfortable bed and flicked the light on. My limbs shook with weakness making my motions slow and less coordinated as I headed towards the windowless bathroom to the right of my bed.

The aftermath of the previous night’s events remained scattered across the tiles, a mixture of the plaster from the wall behind the door and the porcelain that was once my sink. I winced and closed my eyes pointlessly hoping that when I opened them it would all be gone. A rage hit me when my eyelids flickered open, my long delicate fingers curled into my palms to form fists. I shook my head, trying to dismiss my anger. What was done was done. There wasn’t anything I could do to change it now.

‘
Ok, forget the bathroom
.’ I thought taking a deep breath while leaning over to grab my makeup bag and escaping the carnage.

I shuffled around the room in a daze. ‘
Why did Thomas do that to me? After all of these years together?'
After everything he witnessed happening to me in my human life. Why?’ The confusion swam around and around my brain, all questions and no solid answers.

Thomas had never so much as raised a hand to me. He had been overbearing and protective, but never violent. Even when he nagged me I realised he did it for my own benefit most of the time, or at least out of genuine concern for my welfare. What he’d done was completely out of character.

I inspected my appearance in the full-length mirror next to the dressing table in the corner of my bedroom. I was hungry, but I figured I had a bit of time to prepare for my meeting with Marc. The sun was only just setting, so it was impossible for me to go anywhere yet anyway.

The thought of him, the flavour of his name in my mouth caused a jolt low in my belly. Unconsciously, I ran my fingers over my face and lips, closing my eyes, imagining kissing him, running my tongue along the rough spattering of stubble on his jaw then down to his neck, piercing his tanned skin just  below his jawline with my teeth.

Shit!

My eyes snapped open. I blinked away the vision and began to get ready.

The thick cream linen dress was tailored to me. I’d had it specially made. The top of the dress hugged my upper body ensuring my assets were evident. The neckline was cut straight across my collar bones leading to the wide straps covering my shoulders and plunged into a deep v down my back, stopping when it reached the point on my back where my hips were level. The skirt was full and stopped at my knees, forming a perfect circle when laid out on the floor. I smiled with my scarlet painted lips as I swished the dress around. I’d also applied a little black liner around my eyes to create thirties style make-up. Bronzer was brushed over all the visible areas and helped take the death-like paleness out of my skin.

I looked awesome, no doubt in my mind.

Hurrying myself, I slipped into red heels and grabbed a matching clutch bag stuffing the bronzer, brush, lipstick and my credit card inside.

The sun would be fully down by now so I opened my bedroom door exercising as much caution as I could. I attempted to listen out for any movement in the house; the daytime staff had long gone. 

Unsure of whether my hearing had diminished as much as my eyesight, I knew I had to creep out. The last thing I wanted to do was bump into Thomas on the way out. The way I was dressed alone would be the cause of many questions. Questions I wasn’t prepared to answer.

I tiptoed down the three flights of stairs holding my breath, every muscle stiff with fear. After successfully arriving on the ground floor I took large steps to get to the front door. I let out a huge sigh as I opened it, stepping out into the night air and pulling the door quietly closed behind me.

My heels clicked on the sidewalk for a few metres before finding an alley dark enough to conceal me. I shivered when I recalled that Thomas had always taught me never to feed close to home.

“It’s impolite to feed on the neighbours,” he’d lectured.

Apparently.

Necessity had won over this night, though. I needed to feed. Desperately.

A female stepped into the alleyway. I opened my bag and started to feign looking for something.

I glanced up as she passed me. Early twenties, a no go as she may need the strength to care for children when she got home. I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t do that. The blood loss would make her lethargic, and she’d need a few days to recover.

Childishly, I stamped my foot watching my meal disappear from the end of the alley, chiding myself for my silly rule in a moment of sheer desperation.

My head snapped to attention. I pressed my body against the orange brick wall and held my breath. More footsteps clattered in my direction.

He emerged at the edge of the opposite wall, turning into the alley, floppy blond hair and good-looking in a boyish way. He wore stylish jeans and a logoed sweater and had his hands planted deep in his pockets. He must have been around his late teens, eighteen or nineteen maybe.

I emptied the contents of my purse on to the concrete and squatted to pick them up, he darted over to assist me in picking the stuff up. ‘
Aahh, lucky for me, chivalry is not dead
.’ The thought made me smile when raising my head to meet his cool blue eyes, allowing my fangs to extend.

My prey inhaled sharply, his eyes wide. My smile grew as I clasped my fingers around his throat and dragged him up against the rough bricks. I held him still with my body pressed parallel against his, my mouth searched for his rosy lips. My teeth drove into his bottom lip muffling his cry before the venom calmed him.

I enjoyed the taste of his sweetness. The rush of the blood flowing through his arteries pounded against my fingers, still around his neck. I could have taken it too far, his blood tasted so pure and fresh in my mouth.

The sensation of his erection against my stomach distracted me from my feed, reminding me that the boy had much to experience in life yet. I needed to stop. Now.

No one happened to pass as I fed, but if they had they would’ve been too embarrassed to stare, seeing as how we looked like we were indulging in an intimate exchange. The British would be either too polite or too disgusted to interrupt.

The young man stumbled away, confused after I explained he’d fainted while helping me gather up the things I’d dropped.

Poor thing, he couldn’t wait to get away from me, his arousal causing his cheeks to redden as he bounced from one foot to the other in an attempt to hide the bulge straining against the denim.

His young, untainted blood caressed my veins and my heart rate rose to a normal human-like rate. My preternatural senses were also restored.

Fully energised, I walked to the bar in Mayfair, trying to keep my pace to a fast-walking human one. I felt anxious to be near Marc again. I wanted to take in his scent and have the powerful presence surrounding me.

Nervous, I smoothed down the folds of my skirt as I approached the large glass doors of the bar. The burly man stood outside as he had the previous night. I nodded my thanks as he held the door open for me even as his beady eyes appreciated my dress.

For a Saturday night the bar was exceptionally quiet. A few crowds mingled around tables that they’d pushed together.

I smiled at the barman I’d met the night before, the one I suspected was gay. His lips twitched when he caught sight of me, and he raised a manicured eyebrow while rubbing his fingers over his black goatee beard. His light blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

There was no sign of Marc. We hadn’t agreed on a time, but I still experienced a tug of disappointment.

“Alright, love?” he smirked knowingly.

“What are you fucking smirking at?” I asked through a toothy smile, as if I had said something pleasant to him. He nodded and folded his arms across his chest, revealing perfect white teeth, clearly impressed by my direct approach.

“Nothing, love,” he shrugged. “You wanna’ glass a red wine?”

He was obviously amused by something and I started to feel irritated, not only by his attitude but his thick cockney accent.

“Yes, please,” I said in polite tone, wishing I could reveal my fangs— that would wipe the stupid grin off his face.

He sauntered along the bar, his hips swinging in a perfect rhythm to the dance tune coming through the speakers. He returned with my wine after a couple of minutes and placed the glass down in front of me on the lit bar top.

“So are ya’ ‘ere to see Marc then?” The smirk returned to his lips after he spoke. He rested his elbows on the bar top in front of me, settling in for a chat.

“Oh, you know him?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He giggled at my question. He enjoyed playing cat and mouse with me, laughing at my lack of knowledge.

“Glad I amuse you, err?” I cocked my head to the side gesturing my hand in his direction.

“Ryan.”

“Ahh, Ryan. He did tell me he comes in everyday, so that’s how you know him, huh?”

He snorted. “He’s my bloody boss, darlin’. He owns this place. Well, this bar and a few other places.”

I kept my face expressionless and nodded. This clearly guy enjoyed having information that I didn’t and I refused to allow him to see my surprise.

“Cool, anything else I need to know?” I took advantage of the opportunity Ryan gave me. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that he delighted in gossiping, all but confirming my suspicion about his sexual orientation.

He leaned his head closer to mine, his fake tanned face illuminated by the glowing counter. He looked around dramatically as though there could be a man in a tan raincoat, wearing sunglasses, watching and waiting for the information he was about to tell me.

“His family, they’re, well, they’re a bit, you know—
strange
,” he whispered, glancing around again after he’d finished.

“He’s bloody lovely though, mate, nice bloke. They’re just, so, well—” His voice had returned to a normal volume as he furrowed his brow, tapped his lower lip with his index finger and turned his eyeballs up to the ceiling searching for a word. “Italian,” he exclaimed taking his finger off his mouth pointing into the air. “They remind me of something out of the fuckin’ Godfather,” he said as if he needed to explain his comment further.

I threw my head back and laughed.

“Ooooh, Ryan! You ain’t ‘alf a gossip,” I said imitating his accent while flapping my hand down in his direction.

The seriousness wiped off his face as he shared my laughter, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He did a catwalk style stroll down the bar to serve another customer without uttering another word.

I sipped the wine, the warmth slid down my throat with ease, taking the edge off my nerves.

An intoxicating, familiar scent flooded my nose. Raising my shoulders, I closed my eyes as a smile crossed my lips.

He had arrived.

Marc’s warm hand grasped my shoulder.

“Hello,” he whispered in my ear, his breath cascading deep into my core. He stood behind me slipping his arms on either side of me and grasping the edge of the bar top, cocooning me between his body and the counter.

“Hi,” I responded in a low voice, frozen to the spot, my muscles tense with anticipation.

“I’m glad you came. I wasn’t sure if you would.” he said quietly, craning his neck to my ear. His lips brushed against my lobe sending shivers down my spine.

I caught a flash of colour in the reflective blocks behind the bar. The violet had taken over my irises once again leaving only a few blue speckles making me wonder what it meant. I’d only seen them look that way twice. Both times, I’d been with Marc.

I turned my attention to his reflection. His face hovered above my head, etched with a serious expression and his cheekbones brushed with a dark pink flush. I melted into his velvety chocolate eyes, gazing into mine via the reflection.

“Why wouldn’t I come?” I said, with my brow furrowed.

He pressed his body against me, pressing me up against the counter. I gasped as he took my flowing hair in his hand and swept it over my right shoulder. He pressed his lips to the space where my neck met my shoulder. A fluttering started a dance within my belly, the effect turning to liquid in my panties. My question remained unanswered. I was confused why I’d even asked. What did I expect him to say? I wondered if he knew the woman had followed me last night.