The Blood Bride (Blood Secrets) (22 page)

In the half standing position, she waited. Head bowed, and he felt like a heel, kicking her while she was down.

She quivered, then stood waiting. In the last few days, nothing else had worked to make her understand she wasn’t to blame for any of this, and he knew he needed to get through to her.
This has to work
.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice was uneven.

He felt worse, as the knot of uneasiness grew in his breast, but she had to work through the issues, otherwise she would become ill from lack of sleep and food
. If nothing else more sinister,
he told himself.

“Hope, you have to talk about it. Bottling these sorts of issue will tear you apart. I don’t want to see that happen.” He injected as much warmth and concern into his words as he could.

The look in her eyes was wild in the half-light, then her face hardened with anger. “Why? Why don’t you want to see that happen, Xavier? Because then you might lose the warm body in your bed of a night? The sex on tap?” The bitterness in her voice shocked him, as her chest heaved brutally.

He slumped back heavily into the seat. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she stopped. The shocked look on her face coincided with a pain in his chest. Her ugly words sliced into him sharply.

Did she really think that of him? That he thought so little of her? That emotionally and personally she wasn’t important to him? The words flew around in his brain. He’d both proven and told her that she was essential to him. So, what had he done wrong?

“Oh, my God!” She closed her eyes and crumpled into the chair. “I can’t believe I said that.” Hope dropped the crutches to the floor, the clatter echoing through the silent room. Her head dropped forward slightly, but he could still see one hand clapped over her mouth, and she grabbed at her stomach. “I didn’t mean that. Honestly.” She lifted her head as the words tumbled forward. A red tide climbed her porcelain skin. Her eyes shone with tears, and she blinked furiously, dismissing them, he thought. Her face was a picture of shock and horror.

He hurt in the region of his heart, and wanted to rub it, but knew it would offer no surcease from his anguish. He ached for her in a way he had never before experienced. It had been him, alone for a long time. He’d had friends, some closer than others. Estersham had been significant in his second life as a vampire, at least until he’d gone rogue. Yet, no-one had meant quite so much to him as Hope did. He was confused about how to deal with the emotions that swamped him.

Before him sat a broken woman, her hands shaking and her skin parchment white as she struggled to deal with her fears. Xavier’s heart squeezed once more at her pain.

“I don’t know what I’m saying anymore. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat and I feel like I’m going mad! I go to sleep knowing what I am going to see. Knowing that they are there, waiting for me. Ready to show me something I don’t want to happen. Something I don’t want to see. And most of all, I don’t want to see you dead.” Her voice broke, and she shook.

This time he rose, going to her.

Xavier knelt on the floor beside her before pulling her into his arms. “Hope. None of us can change what has happened, but if we can work it out, we may be able to change the future. You said, after the last dream, it had changed. If we could work out why, we might be able to change the outcome. To do that, though, we need to know what happened, and be able to break it down. I know it’s difficult, but we can do this. Together.”

His words were soft, but he was sure they had got through to her. The sounds filtered through the room, and gradually the violent paroxysm passed.

Her sobbing eased, and only an occasional hiccup sounded, while he waited. She gripped him tighter, as if trying to crawl inside him, and he held her tight. But the horror and fear in her eyes haunted him.

“Okay. I’ll try.” Once more, Hope sniffled, rooting in pockets, probably seeking a handkerchief. The words were broken, but there was purpose and commitment in them, and they soothed the ache inside him a little, as he gave her the cloth he had taken to keeping in his pocket. She turned away, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose.

Something moved through the air. A change in himself, skittering just beyond the reach of his mind and senses, but he felt an uneasy ripple in the back of his mind. Something indefinable.

Her eyes stung, and all the while her stomach cramped. Had she really said those horrible things to Xavier? The look on his face when she had said them haunted her. She felt sick just remembering.

He had wanted her to talk about the dreams, not about their situation. God help her, she just wanted to forget the nightly horror. Each time she closed her eyes, though, she could see the scene in front of her. Smell the smoke and copper tang from the blood. Her stomach churned harder, and the sick taste of bile rose in her throat. The unpleasant sensations were her constant companion these days and she knew her lack of hunger could be attributed to that. Her refusal to share the constant churn had been out of concern for Xavier’s piece of mind.

“Xavier, I have tried to make it go away when I’m awake. But it won’t. It’s always there, and I don’t know what to do. The images are there, haunting me.” She closed her eyes, scrubbing at the itchy, aching orbs with the heel of her hand. Felt the lump in her throat, constricting her and burning.

“I can’t understand what you are going through. But I can say with certainty that something you or we did changed the future. The future you saw in your dreams the first time.”

 
She waited for him to continue.

“We need to work out what, so we can stop it from happening. You need to tell me everything you know and saw. Every detail, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem.” He grabbed her hands.

She realised just how cold she was. “Do we have to do it now?” Her voice was strained, as if she had been screaming. Her throat ached, she wanted a cool drink to clear it away. “Can I grab a drink first?”

Hope watched as Xavier checked his watch. “You know what? It’s going on four in the morning. I think we should try when we wake up tonight. I am also going to try to arrange a visit upstairs for you tomorrow. Maybe that will help a little. I know you’re feeling stressed with everything, and being down here for weeks.” Hope knew Xavier was seeking some way to relieve her distress.

He smiled, and she saw the strain lines bracketing his mouth and eyes. “What is it they call it? Cabin fever?” She laughed, knowing her answer to his question was quivery and damp sounding. “I’ll have your parents lined up for nine—that way we can do them first, then come back down here and go through your dream. Does that work for you?” His voice was soft and coaxing, and she found herself nodding agreement to his plans.

She knew he was humouring her, and she worked at pasting a smile on her face. He slipped soft arms under her legs. “Xavier? What are you doing?” He hefted her in his arms.

“Taking you to bed. To sleep.” The words were firm, but caring, and she had to swallow the feeling of inadequacy and guilt that filled her.

She had been so wrong with her accusation, and she needed to understand her apology was sincere. Sometimes facing up to being more than just rude was difficult, and this was no exception.

“Xavier? I was wrong. I shouldn’t have said that before about a warm body. It was low of me and I didn’t mean it. Not really.” Her chest hurt as she pushed the words out.
God, I hope he understands what I am trying to say.
She could only hope that she hadn’t damaged what they had growing between them beyond repair.

He stopped in the doorway. “You may not mean it now, but maybe you did at the beginning. You wouldn’t say those words if at some point you hadn’t thought them. I’m sorry if I ever gave you the impression that you weren’t important to me.” He stopped, closing his eyes and swallowing.

She searched his face, the sensation of guilt pulsing stronger than before. “Hope, I don’t know what to say, other than I don’t make a habit of sleeping around. Those who do share my bed are valued and important to me. You are important to me.”

The words were said slowly and she thought they were rather like a vow. He looked at her with eyes that glittered, and she could read the sincerity in those deep green pools. He leaned his head forward and softly, achingly, kissed her on the lips. Light, but full of what she hoped was promise.

* * * *

She woke with a start. The room was quiet and she was on her own. Her lips trembled.
I am so dumb. Xavier is pissed off with me, and I’m here on my own. If only I had kept my mouth shut, instead of running off without thought.
A tear trembled as her eyes burnt. It plopped onto her cheek, before running down her face. Hope sniffed, scrubbing the silent tear away. “You are such a fool, Hope. Xavier is a good man and you had to speak without thinking, spewing your angry and thoughtless words.” She mumbled the words, as she pulled a pillow over her head, hiding from herself and the emptiness in the room.

“Who are you talking to?” Xavier’s voice filtered from the bathroom, and for a moment she lay still.

Her body froze in shock at the sound of his voice, and she let the pillow fall to the bed.

He hadn’t left. He was still here. Triumph roared through her system. Energising and cleansing and she smiled, wiping the last of the teary remnants away.

But that feeling was swiftly followed by remorse, that he had heard her comments to herself. She closed her eyes. “I was just talking to myself.”

Soft fingers trailed up her arm and she jumped. “Hope, you aren’t a fool.” She looked up at him, surprised by his words. She hadn’t heard him approach, but in the weeks they had been together, she should be getting used to that.

“You are one incredibly sexy lady, holding up in an impossible situation that very few people would even understand, let alone have to endure.” She watched him as he smiled, grabbing her hand and pulling her upright. “Now, incredibly sexy lady, it is time to dress. Tell me what you want and I will be your personal slave.” He grinned at her, the infectiousness in his grin catching her, making her heart skip.

“Maybe the long black skirt and the ruffled white blouse, do you think? That should keep mother happy and still be comfortable enough for the weather.”

In all honesty, the meeting with her parents frightened her. How would they react to the undeniable relationship between herself and Xavier? She oscillated between the ‘knowing they wouldn’t accept it’, and the ‘I’m an adult and this is my choice’ options. But in the deepest recesses of her mind, she quaked. These were her parents, and their goodwill was so important to her, and she so badly wanted them to accept that she loved Xavier. Her original concerns rose once more, swamping her. So when had it all started to go wrong?

Xavier came back into the room, holding the clothing she had requested and lacy scraps of underwear in his hand. A broad grin was on his face, and he handed the bra and panty set over.

“Hang on, they’re not mine.” She pointed to the underwear.

“Yes they are. I had Lisi pop over to the mall and pick them up for you, together with some other bits and pieces.” His grin got bigger—wolfish even. She grabbed the bits of cloth from his hand as she blushed. Basic white, sure, but the tiny panties were little more than a triangle of silk and elastic, and she rolled her eyes. He winked and she stood, placing one foot after the other into the skimpy bottoms, and started to pull them up.

The bra next, little scraps of matching silk, underwired for some hopeful support. The balconette bra slipped over her skin like the caress of Xavier’s hands. The cups barely covered her nipples, and she looked down at herself, then back to him. His eyes twinkled and she groaned. “How am I supposed to carry on a proper conversation with my parents, when I keep thinking something is going to fail?”

Xavier moved in close, placing his hands on either side of her face. “Because you know it delights me to see you displayed for my eyes, and because you know, no matter what they say, you are beautiful in my eyes.”

Hope could smell his scent, filling her senses, increasing her heart rate to a rapid tattoo. He kissed her, softly to begin with, but she leaned closer to him, opening her mouth to allow his tongue access. The kiss grew hotter, and she moaned.

He carefully pulled away, saying with a hoarse voice, “We had best get ourselves ready for the meeting.” Xavier looked at her, and she could see he was just as affected by the scorching heat of their passion. It felt good, knowing he not only wanted her, but was unafraid to show it. Xavier left the room, and she watched the movement of his body until he was out of sight.

With a sigh, Hope grabbed the bedside table and hopped into the skirt he had left on the floor. Pulling it up and fastening the zipper, she then slipped her feet into the light sandals as she grabbed her crutches. She hobbled into the dressing room with the blouse in hand.

Once in front of the mirror, she took a look at herself, black skirt all but hiding the hot pink cast, and the little skimpy bra that hid her nipples but not much else. She gazed at herself objectively. She was slim with small pert breasts, lightly flared hips and flat stomach. Her long black hair was straight, but the blue highlights shone under the lights, and she critically scanned her eyes and skin.

Hope shrugged, though—nothing he hadn’t seen before and wouldn’t see again—and decided against the makeup she would usually apply.