I’d never been that heartbroken.
I missed him. I missed my vampire who would never be mine. I missed him every second of every day I was away from him.
And I hated myself for it.
I felt the tears gather in my eyes and I blinked them away, trying to concentrate on the TV screen.
This didn’t work. I knew it but I didn’t give up. Every night, the tears came and no matter how I’d struggle to beat them, they’d always silently fall.
If this was a romance novel and he wasn’t Lucien, I could believe we were lifemates. My tears and heartbreak weren’t about knowing I was on the run from the man I loved who would find me and kill me. They were about losing the man I loved (see? Messed up!). I’d never felt this way when a relationship ended with one of my other boyfriends. I didn’t even know you could feel this badly. I didn’t know this kind of pain existed.
I wished I still didn’t know.
I was cold. I was wearing a pale pink cotton nightgown that fell to my knees and had a wide v-neck and short sleeves. I’d stopped and bought a few and some underwear so I could throw away the stuff Lucien gave me. To try to warm up, I curled my knees tighter to my chest. I was too exhausted even to move to get under the covers.
The tears slid out the sides of my eyes making the TV screen blurry and I sighed.
I wondered, if I actually managed to get to sleep, if I’d have the nightmare. I hadn’t thought of that when I took off and each night this thought also served to keep me awake. But in the snatches of broken sleep I was able to get, it didn’t come.
I knew what this meant. We’d been connected even if it was in a fucked up way.
Now we were not.
Who would have thought I’d ever want that dream back?
It stunk but I did. I wanted any connection to him. Even a connection that might bizarrely kill me.
Jeez, I was messed up. Totally.
I sighed again, the tears slowed and my eyelids started to feel heavy.
Yes. Sleep, please. I needed sleep.
The tears stopped and my eyelids drooped.
Yes, sleep.
I blinked slowly then closed my eyes.
Then, thankfully, nothing.
* * * * *
I woke and instantly knew he was there because I could feel his fingers wrapped around my ankle.
Knowing I wouldn’t succeed but doing it anyway, I tensed for flight.
Then I felt my ankle jerked. Suddenly, my body was on its back and the weight of Lucien was on top of me. He had his long fingers around my jaw, his palm warm against my throat.
I’d fallen asleep with the lights on. I could see him right there, his face an inch away, his eyes filled with heat.
Hungry.
I felt my heart hammering in my chest, fear burning through me, my fingers and legs tingling.
“Leah,” he whispered, my name coarse on his lips.
I didn’t speak. I waited for whatever would befall me. It sucked but I was ready.
Nine days. It took him nine days to find me. I was surprised and impressed. Not impressed in a good way but still that was pretty unbelievable.
“I haven’t fed in nine days, sweetling,” he murmured.
Sweetling.
Still persisting in this charade when we both knew it was way over.
God, I hated him.
But this surprised me. I vaguely wondered why he hadn’t fed. Then again, if he was going to drain me dry, he’d need to be super hungry.
“Sweetheart, I need to feed,” he whispered.
I swallowed, my throat moving against his palm, my mind hazy with exhaustion, wondering why it seemed he was asking for permission to kill me.
Maybe it was some crazy vampire tradition.
I did the only thing I could do. And anyway, I might as well get it over with.
I turned my head to the side, exposing my neck, his hand moving with me.
I just hoped he anesthetized me. I didn’t want to die but I really didn’t want to experience that agonizing pain before doing it.
I sensed his head dip but I definitely felt his tongue move up my neck.
I licked my lips. That felt good and I was pleased he didn’t intend to hurt me unduly before he killed me. But as good as it felt (and it felt great, as always, which also sucked) I wouldn’t allow myself to react.
Then his tongue moved down.
I felt the numbness then I felt him feeding.
My eyes closed slowly and I finally found it fortunate I was so tired. I didn’t have the energy or strength to react no matter how good it felt.
His hand moved. His thumb tenderly gliding over my lips, his fingers drifting over my cheek, down my jaw, down to wrap around the side of my neck and pull me up as he deepened the suction.
God, I used to love it when he did that. And even right then, as exhausted as I was, I felt a faint tingle in my nipples and between my legs.
His thumb moved, stroking my throat and that, I thought, was so Lucien. Even while killing me, he was playing the game, pretending gentleness, giving me something beautiful.