“When I turned eighteen I was eager to escape, desperate to be free, even if it was to the university. Once free, I took refuge in the local taverns, drinking heavily, gambling, and… well other things,” he mumbled. His shoulders slouched slightly as his head bowed. Cassie didn’t have to hear what those other things were to know that they were women. “I stopped going to school, I lost myself in every form of drudgery I could find, just hoping that it would get back to my father. Just hoping to piss him off. I didn’t care if he disowned me, I had discovered that I had a talent with cards, and I was doing well supporting myself.
“Then I met Elizabeth. She was in one of the gaming halls that I often visited. It was amazing to see her there, women were not allowed into the clubs unless they were working them. And Elizabeth was definitely not working this club, or at least she wasn’t working it as one of the escorts. In fact, no one there seemed to know her, but they all wanted to get closer to her, and no one asked her to leave.
“What none of us knew was that Elizabeth had discovered that the men’s gaming halls were a perfect way to make a lot of money. She could take it from anyone she wanted to, and of course, there was plenty of food for her there.”
He rested his arm against the sill, leaning forward as he stared out at the night. The hard muscles in his arms and back rippled as he moved. Though the tense silence was killing her, Cassie kept silent. Devon was no longer with her, but trapped in a past that he couldn’t escape. Shuddering slightly, Cassie huddled deeper into herself, wishing that she could ease the agony radiating from him.
“I wanted Elizabeth, but I wasn’t like the other men, I didn’t chase her around. I didn’t throw money and jewels at her; I did not even buy her a drink. It aggravated the hell out of her; she simply didn’t understand how I was able to resist her. In fact, I still don’t know how I did. For, although she was a vampire, I did not feel that lure to her as strongly as other humans did.
“It was that factor, and the fact that I was not a good human being, that made her decide to change me. She enjoyed watching my antics, my drunken brawls, my inane lack of caring or respect for the human race. I was selfish and I was fascinating to her, and she thought that I would make a fine addition to her race. I was already brutal and disgusting as a human. As a vampire, well she felt I would be spectacular.”
His arm dropped away from the sill. “And she was right, I was spectacular and I was a fine addition to the species. The transition was painful, but once complete I took to my new identity like a fish to water. I had found my home. I was where I belonged. Elizabeth showed me the way, teaching me to hunt wisely, not to get caught, and how to survive. I loved the death, I loved the blood, I loved the torture, and I relished in the power.”
He became silent again, self loathing washed off of him in waves. “What happened to her?” Cassie asked quietly when it appeared he wasn’t going to say more.
Devon’s shoulders stiffened, his back was straight as a rod. “She was killed in Prague by a group of Hunters about a hundred years later.” Though he answered her, she sensed something more behind his words, something that he didn’t wish to tell her, and though she wanted to know as much as she could about him, she wasn’t going to push him. He was hurting enough without her reopening any more old wounds and hurts. And Elizabeth was dead; that part of his past would not be showing up on her doorstep tomorrow like Isla.
Biting gently on her lower lip, her gaze darted to the night beyond him. He talked about a couple hundred years as if it were nothing. To her, a couple of years were huge. To her, two years was almost a lifetime, never mind a hundred of them. Cassie shivered at the stark reminder of just how different they were. Just how different their worlds were, and always would be, if she decided not to join him.
“I stayed alone for a long time, enjoying my solitude, and relishing in my life. When I met Julian I recognized the same kind of cruelty and depravity in him that resided in me. We got along well, destroyed so very many lives, and relished in inflicting as much cruelty as possible. We were always together until I met Annabelle.”
Cassie’s hands tightened painfully on her arms. “You’re not like him,” she whispered.
For the first time he turned to look at her. His head swiveled slowly on his shoulders, his bright eyes burned with intensity as they met hers. “Don’t kid yourself Cassie; I was exactly like him. No, I was even worse. I am still capable of extreme acts of violence, especially when it involves you, and keeping you safe,” he said fiercely.
Her heart kicked over, her eyes closed slowly as pain swept through her. Even worse? Though she wanted to deny it, she knew that it was true. He had been the epitome of a monster, and there was no changing that. And there was no changing the fact that he still could be, she had witnessed his brutality tonight. Goosebumps broke out on her arms as she shuddered again. “And Isla?” she choked out, not truly wanting to know, but desperately wishing to change the subject.
“Isla, well Isla was just your ordinary monster. I met her in Rome, and the moment that I saw her, I wanted her. Isla liked to toy with men, play with them, wrapping them around her little finger before cutting them loose again. She thought that she could play with me, but she had a rude awakening instead. As a human she was cruel, manipulative, and beautiful. As a vampire she was a sight to behold. I changed her, I created her because I wanted her, and I wanted to see the amount of cruelty and death she could bestow upon the world. And she was outstanding at it, exciting, fascinating.”
Agony twisted through Cassie’s chest, making it damn near impossible for her to breathe. The gleam in his eyes was vicious. It was as if he wanted to push her away, and she realized with a start, that he did. He didn’t feel as if he deserved her, and the more he relived his past, the more he hated himself. He was trying to push her away before she could take no more, and left him. That was not going to happen.
“Isla began to fancy herself in love with me, I did not return it, but I did enjoy her company. Often.”
Cassie winced, her nails dug into her skin at the brutality of his words. She bit hard into her bottom lip in an attempt to keep from crying. “Stop,” she whispered, unable to bear anymore.
“Stop what? The truth?” he practically snarled.
Cassie shook her head, unable to stop the tremors wracking through her. “No, stop trying to push me away. Please Devon, I can take almost anything, but not that. Please.”
“Cassie…”
“I understand about your past, I do,” she interrupted swiftly. “But please just stop.”
She never heard him move, didn’t know he had until he was kneeling before her, his beautiful eyes lost and hopeless. “I’m sorry Cassie, forgive me. Forgive me for everything.”
Tears slid down her cheeks as she cupped his face, gently running her thumb over the perfect contours she knew and loved. Pain and anguish had etched lines into his face, making his mouth harder. He desperately needed forgiveness, it burned from him. But she was not the one that could give it to him.
“I cannot forgive you,” she whispered, rushing on when hurt rocked through him. “You have done nothing to me to warrant my forgiveness. You are not that monster anymore Devon, you haven’t been for years…”
“The women.”
Cassie winced involuntarily. That was something she would have to work on in her own time, and in her own way. Her confidence had been rattled, her fears confirmed, but everything he was telling her was then. And now… Well now he was hers, and she was not going to let him go. “Devon I knew there were other women, I’m not a fool. You’ve been around for awhile.”
She managed a wry smile that she did not feel, but he needed her reassurance, and he needed her love. For him, she could do anything. “It’s yourself that you need to forgive,” she whispered.
He searched her face, his eyes wounded and yet so very hopeful. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes, you do.”
He seized hold of her hand, squeezing it tightly as
he kissed it gently. Urgency radiated from him, need poured from his soul. Her breath was stolen from her as the force of his desire beat against her. Tugging her toward him, he wrapped his hand around the back of her head, pulling her mouth to his.
Shock coursed through her, his intensity overwhelmed her as his tongue swept into her mouth. Reasonable thought fled as he invaded all of her senses, shattering her self-doubt and fears. He rose up over her, pushing her gently onto the bed, his hard body coming down on top of hers. Cassie’s heart hammered, her body tingled with excitement as his hands stroked over her, bringing her body to shocking life. She had never felt anything like this, never knew such exquisite pleasure existed.
Her fingers dug into his hair, pulling him tighter against her, needing more of him, wanting all of him. This was right, this was where she belonged, where she would always belong. Since the moment she met him, he had owned her heart, body, and soul. He was her perfect other half, he was the only one that could ever make her whole.
His kiss became almost painful in his desperation and need. His hands slid her baggy sweatshirt up, stroking over her skin, caressing her gently as his fingers slid down to the waist band of her workout pants. Though she was swept away in a rising wave of passion and pleasure, a bolt of fear tore through her. She loved him, she truly did, but she was not ready for this. Not after this night, and not when she was still so rattled and shaken.
“Stop, Devon, wait,” she managed to gasp out, tearing her mouth from his, knowing that if she did not stop this now she never would. He pulled back, his body stilling against hers, his eyes questioning and worried. “I can’t, I’m not ready.” She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze again as humiliation burned through her. She was sure that Isla had never told him no. Cassie shuddered at the thought. She was acting like a silly child, she knew that, but she simply was not ready for this. Especially not when she still felt so raw, and wounded. “I’m sorry.”
“Cassie look at me. Look at me,” he ordered again when she kept her gaze firmly planted on her bureau. Slowly, trying to keep her shaking under control, she met his gaze again. “I don’t want to do anything that you are not ready for. I’ve waited over seven hundred years for you, and I’ll wait for you forever. When you are ready, I will be here Cassie. For you, I can do anything.”
She began to cry, soft sobs wracked through her as relief and love filled her. Rolling off of her, he pulled her tight against him as he cradled her gently. She did not doubt his words; she simply wished that she would be enough for him when the time came. That he would not be disappointed in her. That he would not compare her to them, and find her lacking. She also wished that her doubts about changing for him weren’t back, wished that she could ease the need that radiated from him constantly. But she was frightened of his world, weary of the cruelty and constant hunger that filled it.
She rested her hand on his chest, curling her head in the hollow of his shoulder. She frowned when he seized hold of her hand, moving it to the other side of his chest. It took her a moment to realize that this was what he did every time she rested her hand over the spot where his heart should be beating. It was one of the reasons she had never noticed his lack of a heartbeat before. Well, that and the fact that she had been too blinded and infatuated with him to notice much of anything else.
But now, she noticed.
Tugging her hand free, she rested it back over the empty hollow of his chest, slightly disturbed by the lack of a heartbeat, but she loved him too much to care. “No,” she whispered when he reached for her hand again.
“Cassie,” he groaned. “You don’t need to be constantly reminded of what I am.”
She lifted her head out of the hollow of his arm to meet his gaze. “You’re the person I love Devon, and I want to be reminded of that fact every second of the day.”
He stared at her for a moment, his eyes wide and bright. His hand tightened around hers, pressing it tighter to his silent chest. Cassie smiled softly at him as she bent to kiss him, loving the wonderful feel and scent of him as she lost herself to the bliss that he offered her.
***
Despite the awful events of the night, Cassie awoke in a surprisingly good mood. Devon’s arm was draped over her, his hard face innocent and sweet while he slept. She dropped a gentle kiss on his brow, scooting slowly out of bed so as not to wake him. Padding toward the bathroom, she pulled her bandages gently off, glad to find that the wounds were healing well.
She took a quick shower and changed into a pair of jeans and a Red Sox t-shirt, opting for comfy rather than stylish. It was Sunday after all. Her grandmother would already be making pancakes and sausages for them, and an egg white omelet for Melissa. Cassie was pulling out more bandages and antiseptic when a soft knock sounded on the door.
She pulled it open, smiling at the sight of Devon’s tussled hair, and sleepy half smile. His green eyes perused her, an eyebrow quirked slightly. “Adorable,” he muttered, his voice husky.
Cassie felt her cheeks flush as she ducked her head. Noting the supplies on the sink, he came toward her, pulling her shirt gently up. His forehead furrowed, his eyes darkened as he studied the deep scratches on her side. “Almost completely healed,” he mumbled, more to himself.
“Why do you sound so upset about that? Shouldn’t you be happy that they’re healing well?”
He glanced up at her, smiling brightly. “Of course I’m happy, it’s just surprising.”
She wasn’t fooled. His smile did not reach his eyes, nor did it lighten the worry that still marred his brow. “I told you that I heal fast.”
“I know.” He kissed her forehead gently. “Let me help you.”
Taking hold of the peroxide, he gently cleaned the gashes. His touch was so light that she hardly felt it. Smoothing the bandages into place, he stood slowly. “How are the ribs?”
Cassie shrugged slightly, gently touching the bruises that were already fading from her rib cage. The cracks were already healed, but the bone was still bruised, though not badly. “Much better,” she assured him.
He nodded; his eyes still dark as his hands wrapped around her waist. “I have to go, but I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Cassie swallowed heavily, hating to see him leave. “Be safe,” she whispered.
“Always,” he vowed, kissing her gently.
She watched as he slipped out the window, disappearing fluidly over the sill. Shaking her head, she hummed softly to herself as she made her way swiftly downstairs, practically skipping down the last set of steps. Despite the hideous events of the dance, waking in Devon’s arms had lifted her spirits considerably. Chris was still lying on the couch, his arm tossed over his eyes in an attempt to block out the sunlight filtering through the windows.
“Good morning,” she greeted brightly.
Lowering his arm, he stared skeptically at her. “Ugh,” he grunted, apparently not at all pleased with it.
Cassie laughed happily, turning toward the kitchen. “Get up lazy butt!” she called over her shoulder.
The ring of the doorbell stopped her before she reached the kitchen. She hurried to the door, surprised that Melissa and Luther would ring the bell, they usually just walked in. Shrugging, Cassie grasped hold of the handle as Chris bolted upright, leaping to his feet in a smooth, fluid motion as he cleared the back of the couch in one fluid motion.
“Cassie no!” he barked, his voice hoarse and strangled.
But it was too late. She already had the door open, and what was standing on the other side was something far worse than she ever could have imagined. Something far worse than Isla and Julian.
CHAPTER 20
Why didn’t she smell pancakes cooking? And the sausage, well that should be frying by now. And of course she should be able to smell the mushrooms, green peppers, and onions that would be sautéing for Melissa’s omelet. But why didn’t she smell them? It was pancake Sunday, and next Sunday was Belgium waffles, but for some reason the pancakes were not cooking right now.
r /> Had her grandmother slept in? No, wait, she never slept in, she was always up early, humming and dancing around the kitchen as she cooked. Cassie’s gaze darted to the driveway. Where was the little red Mustang? Her grandmother’s baby, her one luxury. It was always parked right there, gleaming and shiny because it was waxed and washed at least twice a week. Her grandmother loved to ride around town with the top down, the wind blowing her strawberry hair back as she blasted the radio.
Where was the car?
Cassie’s ears were humming, there was a thrumming vibe in her eardrums that blocked out all sound, all reason. She turned back to the people before her, the buzz instantly increased in her head. It sounded like a swarm of bees had encircled her, and she thought that would be preferable to the people on her doorstep. The people before her were speaking, or at least the woman was, but she couldn’t hear them. Cassie knew the woman was speaking though because she could see the woman’s lips moving, even if there was no sound.
Cassie’s gaze darted frantically to the empty driveway again, then back into the house. She inhaled deeply once more, but still no smell reached her. She did not want to look at the people before again, but she knew that she had to. She did not want to hear what they had to say, because with heart wrenching certainty she already knew what those words would be, and they would destroy her.
Chris moved into the doorway of the living room, his broad shoulders were slumped, his sandy blond hair disheveled from sleeping on the couch. His eyes were filled with sadness so profound that it pierced Cassie’s heart, it ripped her violently from the shell of denial and shock she had wrapped herself in. Chris’s eyes met hers; tears already shimmered in their sapphire depths. Of course he would know what they were saying. He had known before she’d even opened the door, and he did not have bee’s buzzing through his head.
He had warned her not to open it, why hadn’t she listened?
Slowly turning back around, her gaze focused on the well built woman before her. Though she looked hard and professional, her brown eyes were warm, and regret radiated from them. The man beside her was young, the freckles on the bridge of his nose stood out starkly against his pallor. He appeared to be new on the job, and it was obvious that he did not want to be here.