Limerence (13 page)

“It’s just a few days, Mia. Don’t make such a big deal out of this. It’s just a work thing, okay?”

I nod, and then remember that he can’t see me. “Yeah, okay then, Ollie. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Silence again, and then: “I love you, Mia. Please remember that. No matter what happens. I love you so, so much, and always will.”

The phone clicks off before I can say anything more to him and I sob loudly. Why did that seem like a forever goodbye? I have an urge to drive over to the Island right now, regardless of what he says, and demand an answer from him—to beg him not to go—but my mobile beeps as I replace the receiver. I pull it out of my pocket and see a message from Mary-Lou.

‘SOS. Kids going wild, help.’

If Oliver needs space, then I need to give it to him. I continue to stare numbly at the phone. Or should I? Maybe what he needs right now from me is to fight for us, to go and tell him that I love him, that I don’t want him to go. I fiddle with my mobile, contemplating what to do, when it beeps in my hand again.

‘There’s a reason that I’m not a teacher, Mia. The reason being, that I really don’t like children.’

No. Best to give him some space if that’s what he wants. I’ll be here when he gets back. Nothing is going to change on my end. I will always love him and will always be here for him, regardless of how I have been behaving recently.

I walk back to my classroom slowly, still unsure of my decision.

Oliver hangs up the phone, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He turns to me, his head hanging low on his chest. I can’t help the grin that crosses my face. His heart is beating wildly, pumping his filthy blood around him. I should drain him—just put him out of his misery. She will not refuse me anymore, not now he’s out of the way.

He looks up, his eyes burning deep cavernous holes into me; his jaw clenches tight, while his teeth grind together.

“It’s done.” He says.

“So I heard.” I swap my grin for a self-satisfied look.

“So, where will I be staying?” he asks calmly, but I can hear the rage burning beneath the surface, the restraint it’s taking him to hold back.

“Aaah, yes, our arrangement
.
” I say clasp my hands together.

It’s amusing really, that he thinks he stands even the remotest chance of keeping her now. That he truly believes I will keep my word, that she would even be able to resist me now that he is out of the way. My eyes glint with dark humour. He has already lost this battle.

“Where will you be staying?” I mock. I fold my arms across my chest, my muscles straining against the seams of my suit jacket. “Hmm, have we got a spare room anywhere, Ava?” I turn to look at her—my favourite of all my Pawn vampires. She seems the most competent, even though she is the baby of the group. She turns her dark eyes upon us.

“Sir?” she asks with a raise of an eyebrow.

Unimpressed by my game no doubt, but willing to play along to pacify me if it gets me to hurry up and get on with our task. And it will. Once I have, Mia, once she wants me, once I taste her. I swallow, the thought of her in my arms, her blood in my mouth, is simply too much. I lick my lips, lost in my own reverie.

“Sir?” Ava questions again, coming towards us gracefully.

I refocus on the present situation. “Do we have any room for a guest? Mr Walsh will be staying with us for a while.”

“A week,” Oliver pipes in. “Just a week.”

I smile thinly. “Perhaps.” I hear him gulp and my lips twitch in amusement. He’s afraid, and he should be.

“There’s only one room left, Sir,” Ava continues.

“Is it the very
best
that we have available, Ava?” Emphasis on ‘best’. I glance over at him; his eyes are dark with worry and confusion.

She grins broadly. “Oh yes, Sir. The very
best
that we have.” Even if she disagrees with what I’m doing, she’ll follow my orders. However, to include some cruelty in there…well, that just ensures that she damn well enjoys the task I set her.

Oliver is looking dubiously at us. He knows what we are now, and rightly doesn’t trust us, but what choice does he have? He’s defeated and now he knows it. Now he knows that he has lost her.

He was always going to lose, though.

Lose her.

Lose everything.

I hate him
. I glower.

As if having my Mia wasn’t enough of a reason for me to hate him, the stupid fool stumbled upon my prisoners. Fortunately, Cleo found him before he could do anything about it. It’s all worked out perfectly for me though. After he tried to threaten me with the police, I got to threaten him back—and play a game with the poor sap too. Like a spider to a cat, he’s dangling on a thread and being taunted. There is no escape—not from me.

He knows how infatuated I have become with Mia, and he knows she feels at least something similar for me.

I feel a sneer creep up my face. “Well then, Ava. Why don’t you and Cleo show him to his room?” I cannot stand to look at him anymore; his stench makes me feel sick to my stomach.

I turn away and saunter to my chair. I have plans to make.

“Come with me, Mr Walsh.” Face of an angel, voice of a serpent, that’s my girl.

A scuffle breaks out behind me, and Oliver is in front of me once more. Ava is closely behind looking angry, but keeping her cool as usual.

“So, I do this… walk away, and you get one week,” his voice rises. “One week, that’s all you’re getting from me. You can’t go back on your end of the deal. If she chooses me, then you leave us alone. If she chooses you…”

I lean back in my chair and smile. “Which she will.”

He closes his mouth, unwilling to finish the sentence.

“Yes, if she chooses me, what then?” The smile widens on my face.

“If she chooses you, then you get to kill me.” He swallows loudly.

“And I will take great delight in doing so.” I sneer.

“I’ll be dead anyway if she chooses you.” He rumbles.

Ava grips him by the upper arm and pulls him back a step. He furiously tries to shrug her off, but her strength outweighs his by more than his puny body can ever begin to imagine. I smile at him but say nothing. Sometimes silence is the best answer.

My eyes drift from the new floor-to-ceiling window. I’m pleased with how the house is coming along: it’s much more to my liking. I want to see the world around me, not feel boxed in to this decrepit house. I deserve more than this, but this will have to do for now.

Oliver shouts, bringing me back to the present. “She lives, Breckt! No matter who she chooses. That’s what we agreed. ” My mouth turns up in a small smile.

I stand and step closer to him. “You’re a dead man, Oliver.” I say darkly.

“She’ll pick me,” he spits.

My stomach turns at his words. “No, Oliver…she won’t,” I feign confidence. “She will be in my arms, in my bed, before the end of tomorrow.” His eyes narrow at me, his lips curled up in anger. “Don’t be mad, Oliver, at least one of you gets to live.”

We stand toe to toe, glaring at one another, neither of us willing to back down. He’s strong and determined, clearly believing the old saying that ‘love conquers all.’ I want to break him both physically and mentally. Death would be too good for him.

He snarls at me, his eyes glowering with hatred. “She’ll always love me,” he says. The words are quiet and said with earnest, but I see the defeat in his eyes and my own heart leaps with joy. “No matter what.”

To save her, he has to give her up. He knows that I will win, no matter how much he fakes it. “You won’t even be a memory to her soon.” I say with satisfaction.

He pulls his hands through his hair. “Why are you doing this to me?” his voice quavers. “To us?”

It’s a good question. Why am I engaging in this charade? I’m going to kill him anyway. It’s only a matter of time and he knows it. Maybe it’s the game. Maybe it’s the revenge, or perhaps I just want her to make an actual choice between us even if I never allow them to be together again. I want her to choose me. I need her to choose me. Hell, I
demand
that she choose me over him!

Why do I even want her so much? My feelings for Mia have taken me by surprise. They are devouring me from the inside out. Perhaps it is the fact that I’m so used to getting my own way and have suddenly found myself unable to get what I want. Nevertheless the reason, I suppose, does not truly matter. I do want her, and I do want to destroy this man for having something that I want.

“Get him out of my sight, Ava.” I have to walk away before I tear him apart.

Ava grips both of his arms, restraining him from following me. “You know I’m right, don’t you. You know she loves me,” he shouts at my retreating back. Every ounce of me wants to go back and kill him. I storm away; it’s best to wait before I kill him. Make sure that he suffers.

Perhaps I will make him watch me with her.

I open the door a crack, peering into the circular foyer. “Mr Breckt?” My voice echoes back to me.

It feels cold and empty inside. Although filled with furniture, it still seems devoid of any character. This is a house, not a home.

I step further inside and clear my throat, shouting louder. “Mr Breckt? Hello?”

My eyes stray around me in search of someone—anyone. I listen for a noise from in the house to show me that people are around.

Nothing.

Silence.

I need to get the next lot of sketches checked so that I can finish the plans this weekend. I hope that I can get the team working on them next week, and that will get me one week closer to finishing this job.

I walk down the corridor. The walls have been refitted out of glass, and the sun is hot when it pours in. I feel like I’m under a magnifying glass.At the end of the corridor, there’s another circular foyer with several closed wooden doors leading off it.

Which way to go? I spin in a circle, trying to decide, eyeing up each direction on its own merit. They all look the same. This foyer seems almost identical to the one I came in by, apart from the overbearing bookshelf on the back wall. I sigh in frustration.

I walk to the bookshelf, glancing at the titles of each book. They all seem old but in pristine condition.

I pick one up and flip through it. It’s filled with stories I’ve never heard of. I look at the other books more closely. There are history books about times in history that I don’t know of, and I feel my forehead frown when I read the titles on each one. I run my hand along their spines until I feel a soft click beneath my fingers, and then bizarrely…the bookcase slides open to reveal a dark doorway. I flinch and back away. Looking down, I can see steps leading into a murky corridor with lanterns lighting the way along the walls.

I can’t help but wonder where they lead to and I take a furtive glance behind me before taking a step down, curiosity getting the better of me.

Mia might love him, but she will end up loving me. Whether she wants to or not.
I make my way to my study and take a seat at my desk. My head is banging. I’m thirsty; I haven’t fed in days. I’ve been so preoccupied with thoughts of her.

My stomach is empty and my blood burns, moving sluggishly round my body. I look in the mirror on my desk; my skin looks pasty and unhealthy. I need to feed if I am to look my best for her. Now that I have
him
out of the way, I should go and see her as soon as possible. A knock on the door brings me out of my reverie.

“Sir?” Chris, my Pledge: always too eager to please, always too eager to become comes in.

I sigh. “What?”

“What do you want me to do tonight? Should I go back there?” He looks hopeful, a lascivious look on his face. He’s receiving a surprise bonus for spying for me—the flatmate, Rachael. I’m not happy about the situation but it does get him into the apartment. I don’t like the fact that he gets to be around Mia more than I do, either, but what can I do? At least he is getting information for me.

“Yes, go.” My stomach rumbles. My headache is excruciating. “Now that Mr Walsh is out of the way, it’s time I made my move. I need to know where she is going, whom she’s going with. I need to know what she likes, what she does not. Information is what you’re there for and don’t forget it, or it will be to your demise. Do you understand me, Pledge?”

The room is swimming in and out of focus. How long has it been? I bring my hand up and rub my temples.

“Yes, Sir.” I hear him swallow; his blood is moving faster around his body now that he’s frightened. I want to leap over the table and sink my fangs into him, drink from him until he is nothing but a shrunken prune of a corpse. I grip the sides of the table. Every move from him is like an irritation on me—a scab being picked from my skin. Everything is too loud, too sensitive, too…

“Pledge!” I near shout when he turns to leave.

“Yes?” He swallows again and turns back to face me, his eyes wide and fearful.

“Do we have anything in to eat?” I try to keep my voice level and calm, but it quavers on the last word.

He looks pleased. “Oh yes, Sir. I filled the pantry just yesterday. Should I fetch you something?”

I smile, my fangs slipping out of their sheaths in eagerness.

“Yes. Go now, straight away.” I dismiss him with a wave of my hand.

He turns to leave again and stops. “Any preference, Sir?” He turns back to me with a smile. It’s evil and vulgar, just like him. I feel bloody bile rising in my throat. I hate him seeing me like this.

“Female,” I say darkly, “black hair.”

He looks boldly at me, already thinking about his choice.

“Yes, Sir, you won’t be disappointed. I have someone perfect for you.” He turns and scurries off.

Go now, little rat!
I listen to his footsteps run all the way down the hall until he is out of range.

It has been four days since I fed,
I realise with surprise. How can it have been four days? Where has the time gone? My stomach rolls in hunger. I have been using my powers too much; I’m not sure how I have lasted this long without fresh blood. I daren’t look at myself in the mirror again for fear of what I will see. How have I not realised that it had been this long? How am I even still functioning at this level?

He has been gone too long. The room is pulsating as my body struggles to conserve its energy. Panic rises within me and I stand and sway on unsteady feet.

Where is he? The little maggot.
Slithering his way inside of something that he has no true understanding of. Something dangerous, deadly, and so old that it has been around since the beginning of time. I hate men like him. He’s evil before he is even one of us. I cannot imagine how he will transform. I can only hope that he doesn’t get the chance.

I hear his footsteps coming back, hurrying, muffling as he pushes the wooden door open with his elbow and then drags in a young, dark-haired girl. She cannot be more than eighteen, and she will be all the more sweet for her youth. She’s a pretty little thing too.

My fingers deftly undo the buttons of my jacket. I slip it off and move to her side before they are both even fully in the room. I take her arm and pull her to me.

She is sniffling behind her gag, tears pouring freely from her eyes. Her hands are bound behind her with rope, which has cut into her skin. Her wrists have rubbed until they are sore and blooded.

The blood. My stomach gurgles.