Smart human. Andrus would have to do a better job of keeping his emotions hidden.
"The only thing I'm asking, Andrus, is for the truth. I can't take any more of this-these secrets. My heart's been broken, my life-the one I wanted, anyway-is gone. Now I feel trapped. All because I made one reckless choice to love someone I shouldn't. It was one stupid mistake, and I want my old life back. I just want out."
Andrus nodded as he contemplated what he should share. Too much information and the human might put the pieces together on her own. She was extremely bright. Not enough information, she might not trust him. Then she might try to escape or derail his plans some other way. But, if he could win her sympathy, that could come in extremely handy later on. A tiny twinge of guilt spiraled through his gut.
Helena squeezed his hand gently, "Please, tell me."
The simple gesture and sweet tone of her voice made him feel worse than a vampire for what he'd planned to do to her, but there was no turning back now. Life was full of injustices. The way of the world. His story was no different.
"Fine. I will tell you what's going on, but don't blame me if you don't like what you hear … "
Chapter 11
The Story of Andrus:
When she came to him on their very last night together, three hundred years ago, it had been a night like many he'd spent with her-filled with sweat-slicked skin, words of raw passion, and endless fucking. There was never any shame or hesitation with her. She gave herself willingly, in every possible way a woman could physically give herself to a man. And he took. And took.
It began when Andrus saw her standing in the dark corner of the lavish crowded ballroom at his uncle's estate during another stuffy formal ball in Paris. Their eyes met and an instant, smoldering connection formed.
When he took her to bed that evening, he knew he'd never want to stop gazing into her large mahogany eyes, running his hands through her vibrant red hair, tasting her smooth skin and every part of her body in between. She tasted like wild flowers and sweet vanilla mixed with the forbidden. He found it simply addictive. He didn't know why. Didn't really care. He wanted her so badly it scorched his soul.
Months of passion filled nights flew by, yet his craving for her would not abate. He came to realize that it wasn't her full red lips, nor her generous round breasts that he burned for. It was that hidden corner of her soul she refused to open to him.
Each night, with his sweet words and passionate bed play, he tried to coax from her that which she kept locked away. Her heart, perhaps. But no matter how hard he tried, there was no emotion when she said she loved him. Nothing he did truly made her vulnerable to him as he was to her.
But he was determined. He would not relent until she was fully his. Being the son of a powerful family from Eastern Russian-a country plagued with war and corruption-taught him all about persistence and pain; especially how to endure it, which was ultimately his downfall.
Their nights of passion turned into demented one-sided quarrels filled with his irrational accusations. "You love another!" he would scream. "You are using me for my money!"
She would demurely sit on the edge of the bed while he hurled the delusional insults. Her dark eyes would remain sterile and untouched until she'd finally say, "Are you going to calm yourself and take me to bed, or not?" Eventually, he would. He had no choice but to give into his lust, to feel her velvety skin writhing beneath him as he pumped his hard flesh into her.
On the last night, he went to her lavish apartment in Paris. He was broken, beyond repair from the torment of being unable to conquer her heart. She was the one woman he loved and held above all others. He would do anything for her. Anything.
"Anything?" she asked. Her red silk dress hugged her tempting curves and full breasts as she strolled across the polished marble floor of the Rococo style bedroom. Red velvet cushions topped the ornately carved couches and chairs. Exotic floral arrangements and expensive cognac topped the side tables. She'd never told him how she came into her money, but he didn't ask-what if she'd once been married or had lovers? He couldn't bear the thought.
She stopped in front of the fireplace, staring into its glow. It was winter now, and the snow fell in a soft, thick blanket outside. She stretched out her pale arms to warm her hands.
"Yes," he answered coldly. "Anything. Just say you love me and mean it. Truly, mean it!" His long dark hair was a disheveled mop, his shirt was rumpled with several buttons missing. "Money, my horses and homes, I don't give a shit. Just say the words and mean them. Give me this one thing, that is all I ask."
Boldly, she turned. "I want your sworn loyalty. Forever."
He didn't bat an eyelash. To devote himself to her forever? He could ask for nothing more. "It is yours. Always has been." At the time, his heart filled with the deepest joy, believing that she truly loved him the entire time but had been simply waiting for him to declare his undying love. So simple, he thought. So damned simple!
"Are you certain, my precious Andrus? Because there is no turning back."
Oh God, yes. He marched across the room and claimed her soft lips. Like the rest of her pale face, they were warmed by the fire. "I said anything, and I meant it. Now, tell me. Say the words," he demanded. His heart pounded with anticipation.
She pulled away from him just enough to see his eyes. Her face was filled with sorrow. "Hold still, my love, I'll try to make it quick."
Confused, Andrus attempted to pull back, but she immobilized him in her iron grasp and tugged him close to her body...before sinking her teeth into his neck. She drew deeply from the gash. Andrus jerked and flailed against her impossible strength until he was too weak to move.
Finally, she dropped him like a sack of wet sand to the floor and bit down on her own wrist, drawing her blood into her mouth. Slowly, she bent to him then kissed him hard, letting her blood spill into his mouth. A trickle escaped down the side of his cheek as he hacked and sputtered.
Andrus stared up at her, his eyes burning with confusion and betrayal, his heart pumping wildly. "What did you-you-do to me?" he gasped.
She hovered over his paralyzed body, the life slowly seeping from his muscles. Her eyes were cold as ice. "Andrus, I love you and only you. I'm sorry." The words did not touch her eyes, and he screamed as the darkness took hold of his soul.
***
Helena covered her mouth and pushed back the tears of sympathy. "She-she made you into a vampire? That … bitch!"
Andrus' lips curled for a fraction of a second. "Yes, she's a bitch."
"So, you're a vampire?"
He shook his head and continued staring at the road, clumps of snow pelted the windshield. "Not exactly."
"Then what ‘exactly?'" Helena's phone suddenly beeped. "Oh. Jeez. Not now." She glanced at her phone. The message was from Jess: Hey Lena, WTF? Ignoringyour day-turnal frenz again?
Helena froze for a fraction of a second. Jess knows about vampires? Wait … she had texted them while on the bus earlier that day, saying she'd be working nights for a while so not to call during the day. She thought it might cut down on having to lie so much.
Helena released a breath and responded: Can't chat now. K? Catch u ltr.
Jess responded: Loser!
She glanced apologetically at Andrus. "Sorry. My friends. I don't want them to worry and say something to my mom."
Andrus nodded, but didn't continue speaking.
"Please, I want to hear the rest." Helena thought her head would spin off if he didn't tell her.
He shot her a look.
"Please?" she whined.
His jaw worked for several moments before he spoke. "Days later I woke and was a vampire. Thirsty and cold, I could think of nothing but killing. Women, children-I didn't care who-I just wanted blood and lots of it."
Helena's eyes were wide. "You ate … children?" Please say no. Please say no. Please say …
"She was there to stop me. The queen's final trap. Reyna knew how much I hated her for what she'd done. But I hated myself more for what I craved. I didn't want to kill innocent people for survival. Yet, that was all I could think of doing. I was a depraved monster. So, instead of informing me that I could learn to control the thirst, she offered me an out."
Helena didn't move or breathe.
"Reyna said if I did what she asked and served loyally, I would never thirst and, therefore, never kill a Forbidden: an innocent soul."
Helena looked down at her hands, fully comprehending his situation. "So, you agreed?"
Andrus nodded. "Yes."
"What was the deal? What did she make you do?" Helena almost hated to ask. His story was already too hard to hear.
"Reyna locked me in an iron box and shipped me off. I didn't know where I was going or if I'd survive the madness from the hunger. It was months of hell, unimaginable pain. When the box was finally opened, I found myself in the jungle, somewhere in Mexico. That's when I saw them." He shook his head, clearly pained by the memory. "They were so beautiful, I thought they were angels coming to save me." He stopped talking for several moments.