Tears of the Broken (49 page)

“
You
really did love her?” I asked quietly.

“
Yes.” He looked up at me. “But nothing like the way I love
you—that has no measure, but I loved her enough.”

“
Will she ever come back?” I studied his eyes.

“
No.”

“
Do
you want her to?”

“
No,” he raised his voice a little, then softened it, running
his fingers through his hair. “Look. It doesn’t matter—I just. I
don’t want to talk about it yet, okay?”

“
Okay. I’m sorry. I won’t ask again.”

“
No—” He moaned, rolling his head back a little. “You can
ask—just not today.”

That’s what he always says;
I’ll
tell you, but not today
. How irritating.
So, then,
when
will he tell me? When can I ask? ‘Never’ seems to be a
perfectly good time for him. I mean, it took him this long to tell
me he’s a freakin vampire.

I
can’t believe the big secret he’s been keeping from me all this
time is nothing I could possibly have imagined. I’m good at
assumptions, but boy was I wrong about his one. I should’ve
realised, though—it explains so many things.

My
mind wandered through the past few weeks, analysing and going over
everything we said or did together, then stopped on the best memory
I have stored away up there in my catalogue of thoughts; the
butterflies.

That
was so magical. He either took me there at exactly the right time,
or he had something to do with it. I looked up. David’s head titled
down a little and a very sexy smile spread across his lips. “You
did that? The butterflies?” I asked, full of wonder.

“
It’s one of my many talents,” he said, still
grinning.

“
But
how? Are you magic?”

“
No.” He shook his head, almost laughing. “I’m a creature of
nature, Ara. Hard as that is to believe—”

“
A creature of nature! But you
kill
people?” How can he
compare himself to nature?

“
Ara?” he scolded softly. “I’m no different to the lion
killing the antelope.”

“
Except that the lion doesn’t look like the antelope, or live
among its kind.”

“
True, but still, like the lion, I blend into my natural
surroundings; he has the advantage of a certain colouring, and I
have the ability to emulate the human form.”

“
Yeah, but if you’re so natural, how come
your species isn’t born—you’re, I don’t know, like,
created
, aren’t
you?”

“
You’re unbelievable, girl.” He shook his head. “You’re
sitting beside a vampire, and wrought with scepticisms. Is it so
hard to believe that I might be one of God’s creatures—just because
I kill?”

I
thrust my shoulders back and sat up straight. “Yes.”

“
Look—” He exhaled with frustration, “what I am is a natural
occurrence—a curse passed on by those of an ancient
blood-line.”

“
Your bloodline?”

“
No.
I was human once. You see, it takes a genetic polarity in a human
which, when converged with vampire venom, triggers the change in
their genetic makeup. They become less human and more of what is
commonly called a vampire.”

“
A
genetic polarity?” I frowned, thinking over his words. I took
genetic sciences in school—I wasn’t any good at it. “So, are you
saying you have to have the right gene to become a
vampire?”

“
Yup, so, even though I’m a supernatural
being, I’m actually mostly natural—just also very
super
.” He grinned
warmly, straightening one leg out in front of
him.

“
So,
if you’re not magic, how did you do that thing with the
butterflies?”

He
shrugged. “They’re just affected by humidity. Vampires? We can
manipulate the elements—water and temperature for example.” He
scratched the back of his neck and shuffled his position. “I can
get really scientific about it if you like, but most people fall
asleep after about ten minutes.”

He
has an explanation for everything. Always. I
hate
that. “Well, it was the most
beautiful moment of my life, so far.” I’ve dreamed about those
flutters of blue and yellow, surrounding us like we were in some
private, mystical bubble, nearly every night since that day. It’s
just a pity he had to ruin it by making it combined with the memory
of my first kiss—to a guy who’s leaving me.

“
You
know—” David hesitated. “There’s a reason I did that, Ara, and it’s
not what you think.”

“
Did
what?”

“
Kissed you.”

I
hugged my knees, not bothering to tuck my dress under my legs. “I’m
listening.”

“
I did that—” he leaned a little closer and
lowered his voice, “because I love you, and
I
wanted to be your first
kiss.”

“
That’s a little selfish, don’t you think? Being that you plan
to leave.”

He
shook his head, pressing his lips into a flat smile. “It was worth
it.”

Hm,
yes, it was worth it—he’s right. And even if I lose him forever,
we’ll always have that one perfect memory. With the thought of
losing him, my mind snapped back to the issue at hand—suddenly
racing with a thousand questions. “Okay, hang on, hang on, back up
here a second. So—” I paused to compile all the information. “So
you’re not magic?”

“
I
wouldn’t say that—there is an element of magic, by human
definition.”

“
Well, I guess there’d have to be with all that speed and
healing fast stuff.” I stopped and turned the pages of myth in my
mind. “Hang on. You did say you heal fast, right?”

“
Yup.” He grinned, hugging his knee.

My
mind is getting lost in information. “How?”

“
Rapid cell regeneration. It’s responsible for immortality as
well,” he answered with a hint of humour in his voice.

“
Okay, Mr. I-have-an-answer-for-everything. So you’re not a
demon, then?” I looked at him, my own tone light and
quizzical.

He
shook his head.

“
Guess that’s true, since I watched you walk into a church.”
The memory of the smile on his face as he stepped over the
threshold, suddenly has so much more meaning.

David laughed. “Yes, it’s kind of a private joke among my
kind.”

“
Why? Is there some truth to the demon myth?”

“
None whatsoever.”

“
But, then…why do people think holy water can burn you and
stuff?”

“
Rumours.”

“
Rumours?”

“
Yes. Powerful things, those gossip circles.” He grinned
mischievously. “The whole story started out, originally, when a
vampire was found sleeping in his bed. The townspeople believed the
man to be dead.” David tapped his chest. “No heartbeat, you see.
So, they buried him—alive, and when he finally woke and dug his way
out of the grave, he retaliated with murder.”

“
Retaliated? But, they didn’t know he was alive, did they? It
wasn’t deliberate, right?”

“
No.”

“
Then why did he want revenge?”

“
Same reason any claustrophobic, which woke to find themselves
buried alive, would?”

“
Claustrophobic
?” I
touched my neck. “How can a vampire be
claustrophobic?”

David laughed. “We carry over many human traits when we
change. We can be moody, thoughtful, arachnophobic, afraid of
heights—many things. We’re still mostly human in so many
ways.”

“
And
this guy was afraid of enclosed spaces?”

“
Right. And even if he wasn’t, imagine for a second, being
trapped in darkness, compounded by a force you cannot see—not
knowing which way is up or down, and unable to scream.” He studied
me thoughtfully. “I told you our emotions are stronger as
vampires?”

“
Yeah.”

“
This claustrophobic vampire woke in darkness, terrified. As
he clawed at the soil for three days, his fear became anger, and
his anger became fury. When he finally took a breath, he vowed
revenge on all who ever laid eyes on him. Then, he stumbled into
town and obliterated every soul.”

“
What a bastard!”

David laughed again. “Well, he did leave one alive—a small
boy. Does that make him more likeable?”

“
Depends,” I said. “Why did he leave him alive?”

“
The
boy, who reminded him of his own son, attacked the vampire with the
jagged edge of a broken branch. Amused by the fearless bravery of
the boy, the vampire took the spike and jammed it through his own
heart, faking his death to satisfy the boy’s hunger for
revenge.”

“
How
noble of him.” David smirked at my sarcastic tone.

“
Anyway, from then on,” he continued, “the
human race decided, since the wood the child used originated from a
tree on consecrated ground, that these
Demons of the Night
could be taken
down by all things holy. Word spread, and like a disease, the
rumours grew into the myths you still hear
today.”

“
Hm.” I considered his tale, sceptically.

“
And
do you know what the name of that small boy was?”

“
I’m
sure you’re going to tell me.”

He
nodded, smiling. “Van Helsing.”

“
And
that’s a true story?” I asked, still unconvinced.

“
True story.”

“
Well…if that’s true, why wouldn’t you just correct them—the
humans, I mean—tell them the truth about the whole demon rumour
thing?”

“
Because, the lies assist with our cover.” He shrugged. “Those
who can walk in the day, go to church or wear a cross can’t
possibly be one of these demonic creatures, and so, we can remain
secret—live in peace.”

“
Wow.”

“
Yeah. You’ll find most of the myths about my kind were
started in much the same manner.” He smiled nostalgically and
looked away. “We do love our grapevines, we who walk in the
night.”

“
Grapevines?” My brow arched.

“
Ha!
Yeah. Borrowed that one from your dad.”

“
That was so
not
cool that you would’ve been
better off saying
we do love a bit of
intrigue
.”

David paused and studied me with soft eyes. “My God, you
would have fit well in my time, girl.”

“
I
fit fine here, thank you.” I folded my arms. “So, why didn’t he
wake up?”

“
Who?”

“
The
vampire. When they buried him—why didn’t he wake up?”

“
Oh.
He was drunk.”

“
You
can get drunk?” My words burst out in a gust of
incredulity.

David shook his head as he laughed. “Of course we can—we can
use drugs, too.”

“
Really? Do you get addicted, like humans do?”

He
shrugged dismissively. “Don’t know. Never met a vampire who used
drugs. But I’ll be sure to ask if ever I do.”

“
Thanks. Appreciate it.”

“
Any
time.” His sarcastic smile spread the corners of his lips
widely.

“
Okay, so, on with the interrogation.”

“
Be
my guest.” He motioned a forward hand to me, as if ushering me
through a door.

“
All
right, myth one-oh-one—a crucifix won’t burn you?”

“
I
hope not.” David reached into the collar of his shirt and pulled
out a heavy gold chain with a cross on the end of it. “I wear it
whenever I go to church.”

I
doubled back internally. “So, you
are
religious?”

“
A
little.” He smiled and dropped the cross to his chest.

“
But
you’re also…dangerous?” I concluded.

“
Very.” He smiled malevolently; a shudder crept up my
spine.

I
hate to think of those who’ve come to learn that as their last
lesson. Slowly, I started my questions again. “How can you believe
in God—and then go out and murder?”

“
It’s not murder.”

“
Yes, it is.”

“
No,
it’s not. It’s nourishment—necessary for survival. Does a farmer
murder a cow?”

“
That’s different.”

“
Why?”

“
Because a cow…” I bit my lip. “Because they…well…” I threw my
hands up. “I don’t know. What do I look like, a priest?”

David laughed. “I love it when you know I’m
right.”

“
You’re not right!” Anger forced pulsing blood into my cheeks.
“You believe in the Ten Commandments, pray at church, read the
bible—but you can kill the man sitting next to you without so much
as—”