The Darkest Dream (The Darkest Trilogy) (16 page)

With this, I jerked away, filled with undeniable rage.
 

“He’s going to kill you,
”
 
I
meant for my words to come out with more vehemence, but my voice was just louder than a whisper.
 

“If I were you, dear, I’d be more concerned about my own personal safety.
 
It’s difficult for a vampire to love a human.
 
Dangerous.”
 
His eyes locked onto mine.
 
“I would know, wouldn’t I?”
 
I ordered myself not to cry—to hold onto the anger and never let it go.
 
“I’ll leave you with a few reminders of just what could happen—in case you don’t already have enough.”

And then he was gone, and I was alone.
 
But it only took a moment for the earlier scene to return—the blood, the torture,
the
screams.
 

No matter how hard I tried to block them out, I found it impossible—until eventually, my own cries mingled in with those of the already lost.
 

***

I woke to the sounds of my own agonized screams, my arms flailing wildly against a cold, solid surface.
 
At first, I wasn’t even aware of his arms circling around me or his voice firmly telling me to quiet down.
 
I wanted to be afraid of him, but as the pounding of my heart calmed and the ringing in my ears dulled, I felt nothing but safe.
 

“He was there,
”
 
I
said after several long moments.
 
“In my dream.”
 
Darren swore softly under his breath, shaking his head.
 
Images of what Demetrius had shown me flashed through my mind and Darren stiffened noticeably, pulling away from me.
 
I longed to return to his arms, but his eyes were hard, turned downward.
 
“It doesn’t matter,
”
 
I
said, my voice very soft.
 
“None of that matters to me.”
 

“It should.”
 

“It doesn’t.”

“I don’t think you understand the seriousness of this situation, Lucinda.”
 
And then something occurred to me.

“I understand it just fine.”
 
There was an edge to my voice, drawing his eyes upward.
 
“The only reason all of this is happening is because of me.”

“No, it’s happening because of
me
.”
 
In truth, he was probably right.
 
If Demetrius hadn’t thought that using Darren’s feelings for me would bring him back to his side, it was likely that none of this would be happening.
 

Although I would probably be dead, now—tossed aside, like Phoebe had been.

Like my mother had been.

But he’d misunderstood me.
 
It wasn’t that Demetrius was after me—it was that he knew he was capable of using me against Darren.
 
If that vulnerability were removed from the equation…

“Why don’t you just turn me, Darren?”
 
The words were out of my mouth before I’d even fully considered the possibility.
 
But as soon as I said them, I knew it was what I wanted.
 
I knew that, though it might be drastic, it was a fate I wouldn’t mind.

“You’ll make a fine vampire, darling
.
”
 
His words whispered through my ears, and for a moment I thought he was here in the room.

But I closed my eyes, pushing Demetrius away, focusing on Darren.

The look of disgust on his face said more than he could have ever said with words, and I felt my heart nervously skip a beat as I bit my lip, continuing on.

“It just seems—I mean
,
the only thing he can do to me is kill me, Darren.
 
Sure, he could torture me and do horrible things—”

“Like turning you.”
 
His voice was hard as stone, which only further agitated my frustration.
 

“It’s not like you couldn’t use the extra manpower—”

“I would rather see you dead.”
 
His words were like a slap in the face and my sharp intake of breath was the only noise in the room for several long moments.
 
“Did he put that idea in your head?”
 
My cheeks colored red and I shook my head.

“I’ve been thinking about it since the moment I realized what you were, Darren.
 
And it’s a fate I’m not afraid of.”

“You’ll never be what I am, Lucinda.
 
I won’t allow it.”
 
There was a certainty in his tone that lashed out at me.
 
It was truly the very last thing he wanted for me—I knew it just as clearly as if I’d been inside his head.
 

“I saw what you saw, Darren.
 
I
felt
what you felt.”
 
My voice was barely above a whisper.
 
“You don’t want me to die.”
 
Of this I was certain.

“And I’d rather you die than become a monster like me.”
 

“You’re not a monster!”
 
My voice became stronger as I remembered my dream-argument with Demetrius.
 
My horror was obvious, though.
 
I couldn’t
unsee
what Demetrius had shown me, but I also couldn’t bring myself to believe the Darren I had come to know was capable of those things.
 
“You’re not, Darren.”
 
I whispered, trying to convince us both.

Darren reached out to me then and pulled me closer to him, comforting me.
 
I buried my face into his chest, trying to avoid tears.
 

“You saw it yourself.”
 
There was a strong sense of sadness that I knew would be present in his eyes even without looking.
 
His tone was heavy with regret.
 
“I told you in the beginning.
 
I am not a good man, Lucinda.
 
I am not some noble creature who chose right over wrong.”

     
“But you
did
choose!
 
You walked away from Demetrius and you made a
choice
to live.”
 
I pulled away from him ever-so-slightly then, taking his face between my hands.
 
“I can see it in your eyes, Darren.
 
You are
not
a monster.”

     
“But you would be.”
 
He reached forward and wiped away a fugitive tear.
 
“You would wake full of a thirst that would consume your every thought and desire—you’d even kill your best friend and think nothing of it.
 
You would never again walk in the light.
 
You would never feel warmth.
 
You would never feel the beating of your heart.”
 

At this, his hand came to rest over my heart, and he closed his eyes for just a moment, as if savoring the sensation.
 
“You would cease to be yourself, Lucinda.
 
The girl that I’ve come to care so strongly about.”
 

For some reason, the story Darren had told me of the original vampire popped into my mind.
 
How lonely he must have been, with no one to turn to.
 
And then to face the possibility that he could lose the one person he had finally connected with—worse yet, by his own hand…

I understood the desperation he must have felt.
 

I felt it coursing through me now.

“You could teach me—you could teach me to live the way you do.
 
I have nothing holding me here anymore, Darren.
 
Nothing.
 
I don’t care about the sun or warmth or—my heart.
 
All it’s ever done is brought me pain.”
 
I shook my head.
 
“I don’t care about any of that.”
 
He opened his eyes and held mine for a very long moment.
 
I watched the range of emotion that flew through them—the
grief, the sorrow, the devastation—even fear
.

“But I do, Lucinda.”
 
He tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear, his fingers tracing a line along my jaw.
 
“I could never do it.
 
I’d never be able to live with myself.”

“I’m just so afraid of losing you.”
 
The confession was unintentional, and I felt my cheeks redden under his intense gaze.
 
I knew my attachment to him was irrational, and likely the result of some sort of Stockholm syndrome-
esque
affection.
 

But it was real.

He stared down at me, the backs of his fingers still resting on my cheek.
 

“The feeling is mutual,”
 

I made the decision before I’d even been aware of the idea floating around in my mind.
 
I traced the line of his lips gingerly with my thumb before I suddenly raised myself upward to replace my thumb with my own lips.
 

He was stunned, at first—I felt his body tense beneath my touch, but he quickly recovered and soon returned the kiss with even more fervor than myself.
 
I felt his hands in my hair, gently pulling me in so that he could deepen the kiss.

My head was spinning, my heart racing.
 
My entire body reacted to him in a way that I had never before experienced—that craving for the darkness tingling to life and coursing through me.

The kiss seemed to last an eternity, and when it finally ended—too soon, my body screamed, even after an eternity—I collapsed breathlessly against his chest, my skin sensitive to every place our bodies were touching.
 
I dared not speak, for fear that the moment would be ruined, and I wanted it to last for as long as it could.
 

I
needed
it to.
 
Because I knew that this would be a moment that I would cherish for the rest of my life—however long or short that may be.

Eventually, though, the silence ended.
 
“I brought back some dinner for you.”
 
He shifted a little so that he could reach for a bag, breaking the contact ever-so-slightly.
 
I had to fight the urge not to return to the previous position, instead remaining by his side, only our knees touching now as we sat on the bed.
 
“It should still be warm.”
 

As soon as he removed the plastic container from the bag, I was greeted by familiar smells of the kitchen—immediately transported back several years, to memories of my mom holding out a wooden spoon so that I could taste the sauce.
 
The melodic tone of her voice swept over me and I closed my eyes for just a moment to take it in.
 

I felt closer to my mother now than I ever had.
 
Knowing that, once upon a time, she was in a similar situation as
myself—
though hers was drastically more conflicted—was almost comforting.
 

It was the differences, however, that caused me to open my eyes and scold myself.
 
I had so many
questions
now—so many things unknown.
 
How long had my mother carried on with her doomed infatuation?
  
How had she faced Demetrius without fear?
 
I conjured a story in my mind—an explanation for what happened.
 
She’d had a brief affair with him—something exciting,
a fantasy come
to life.
 
But she’d broken it off, realizing her love for my father—and for this, Demetrius killed her.

Yet for some unknown reason, I was having a hard time actually believing this.
 
Something deep down whispered various other possibilities, leaving me to come up with more questions that would never be answered.
 

She was gone, and with her, any possibility I had of knowing who she was.
 

Sighing very softly, I removed the heavy plastic lid from the container and rose to my feet to cross the room and take a seat at the small table.
 
Darren rose too, accompanying me at the table.
 

“I wasn’t really sure what you would like, but I decided any warm meal would likely be appreciated.”
 
He reached back into the bag that he had procured the delicious smelling spaghetti from and removed another container, along with a small wrapped package.
 
The smell of garlic wafted into the air.
 
“There’s a salad,
”
 
he
pushed the smaller container in my direction and I scrunched up my nose, making a disgusted face.
 

His laughter surprised me, but I enjoyed the thrill it sent through me.
 
I looked up to see
a lightness
in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before.
 
Not the wild happiness I
had witnessed
in Demetrius’ memories, nor was it the same look he’d had in his eyes the first time I’d seen him laugh.

No, this was different.
 
This was contentment, something pure and simple.
 
He stared at me for a moment longer, and the realization that
I
was the cause of such a peace sent another thrill rushing throughout my body.
 
“That’s a no to the salad then, I take it.”

“I hate salad.
 
In fact, I hate almost anything that is even remotely healthy.”
 
Another chuckle erupted from him, starting deep within his chest.
 
I smiled warmly.
 
“Any time we went out to eat, I’d order something full of grease and fat and
Phe
would always eat my salad…”
 
His eyes sobered just a little at the mention of my friend, as I trailed off, realizing what I was saying.