Cherry Stem Page 22

  “You can’t leave me, not when I just found you.”

  Not even a twitch.

  “Open your eyes, Alex. Open those beautiful eyes. Wake up. We’ll make you good as new, just look at me. Please!” I was lying. To him and to myself. There was no way to make him good as new. Even though he wasn’t losing any more blood, I could see and hear that there was too little left in him. He had but minutes to live, and I could do nothing but watch him go.

  Wrong!

  There was something I could do.

  Unsure of whether I was doing it right, or if it would work anyway, I used my fangs to pierce my inner wrist. Forcing his lips open with my other hand, I held my wrist to them and squeezed a few drops of my blood into his mouth. If the handbook had it right, that ought to be enough.

  It didn’t appear to be.

  Alex’s eyes never opened.

  Not when I kissed him and told him I’d rather have another moment with him than an eternity alone. Not when I shook him and watched his curls, usually carefree, cling to his skull, matted with his blood.

  Not when I finally said I loved him.

  I moved him off my lap and lay next to him, turning his face so his mouth was a hairbreadth from my own.

  I was still begging him to open those long eyelashes of his when his last breath caressed my face.

  I kept begging long after his heart had stopped beating.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Constantine showed up near dawn. He said he’d been calling me, but I couldn’t remember hearing my phone ring. Not that I’d have cared, even if I had.

  “He won’t wake up,” I told him, trying to clear my throat. It was sore, and I guessed my mourning hadn’t been as quiet as I’d thought. “I tried—gave him my blood, but he won’t—” A sob cut me off, and I shook Alex’s still form hard. “Why won’t he—”

  Constantine wrapped his arms around me, pulling me from Alex. “Hush, baby.” He hadn’t called me that in years. Once upon a time, I used to melt whenever the word escaped his lips; now I wished it was Alex whispering it in my ear.

  He tried to calm me down, but I wouldn’t listen to him. His words couldn’t penetrate my sorrow, couldn’t diffuse my guilt. Alex was dead because he’d met me.

  “—light outside.”

  I turned to Constantine in a fury, shoving him halfway across the room. How could he talk about anything other than the great loss I had just suffered? He grabbed my forearms when I went for him again, holding me to him when I started flailing. He didn’t let go until I stopped fighting his grip.

  “We have to go before it’s too late.” He was right.

  I couldn’t have cared less.

  He obviously caught on to that, because he hauled me over his shoulder with an exaggerated sigh and moved to the window. Finding fresh strength, I began thrashing and kicking—not that it did me any good. His grasp was made of steel.

  “I’ll be back for him.” He pinned my legs to him with both hands. “I promise.”

  I didn’t believe him, but it didn’t matter. He could take me wherever he wanted, keep me away from the sun, hide me at his estate so the remaining council wouldn’t come after me when they found out I’d killed Johnny Boy. He could keep my body from dusting, but I would still be dead inside.

  Alex was gone.

  Everything I’d let myself hope for—love, a future—had been wiped out because I had been stupid. He’d never even heard me say I loved him, because I’d been too selfish to admit that aloud when I should have.

  Back at the mansion, I let my body sink into an armchair and curled into myself. Sheena tried to comfort me, but I wouldn’t have any of it. I didn’t deserve to be comforted. I’d brought Alex into a world filled with death and had left him there to be swallowed whole.

  I was wallowing in misery when Dotty opened her eyes and started shrieking. Constantine was at a loss; her wails became louder every time he tried to approach her, and she wouldn’t stay still long enough for him to catch her gaze. Seeing me calmed her down but didn’t exactly help us decide what to do next. I mean, were we supposed to tell her the truth or try the all-powerful mind wipe?

  In the end, it was my call to let her choose for herself.

  We filled her in on the entire story and let her decide if she wanted us to make her forget.

  She did.

  She didn’t want to remember a single thing she’d been through, but most of all, she didn’t want to know there was such a thing as vampires, or that I was one of them. I took her memories of the last few days away and, when she came to, fed her a story about Constantine and me being secret agents who were in charge of solving her disappearance. Other than being a part of that secret organization, VSS—feel free to laugh—Constantine was also a doctor. He assured her she didn’t have to worry about her loss of short-term memory, as it was trauma induced.

  She swore not to mention us or our organization to anyone, including the cops. Since Willoughby had an invitation to her home and we couldn’t be sure if he’d go after her again, we promised to drive her to her mother’s, where her son was still staying, as soon as the sun went down. There was absolutely no way she could wait that long, however, and I couldn’t blame her. I wished I could have been there when she was reunited with her son, but it wasn’t my wishes that counted that very moment. I hugged her good-bye, promised to check in on them soon, and called her a taxi, which Constantine gladly paid for.

  Dotty and Mark would be fine, and I’d be around to make sure of that. I would accept no more losses.

  That last thought landed me back in my reality and snuffed out my glee over seeing Dotty back to her normal self. At least she still had a life and the option to lock the boogeyman out of it.

  I was the boogeyman. I was the thing hiding under the bed, skulking in the darkness and luring good, brave people to their deaths. Their horrible, painful, lonely deaths.

  I hid my face in my palms and just sat there, praying I could take the last few hours back—or maybe even the last few days. I would have never met Alex, but at least his smile would still be there, brightening the world.

  * * * *

  “Cherry, it’s time.”

  I lifted my head and looked at Constantine through blurry eyes. Time for what? I blinked to bring him into focus. Exhaustion had to have overtaken me, because I was now lying on the couch. I hadn’t realized I’d drifted off.

  Constantine wiped my hair off my face with gentle fingers. “Do you want to come with me?”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about. I shook my head. I didn’t want to move; I wanted to just waste away and leave behind the pain that was tearing me up inside.

  “He’s going to bring Alex,” Sheena said with a tender smile. “Are you sure you don’t want to go?” Her palm on my shoulder was more than a show of support. She was gently pushing me up.

  “Alex is dead.” There were no more tears in my eyes, but they were choking my voice. “I don’t want to see him like that. Not again.”

  Constantine frowned. “Cherry…”

  In my sleepy state, it was easier for him to chip through my defenses and harder for me to block his voice out.

  “Cherry, didn’t you hear me earlier?”

  Instead of replying, I closed my eyes.

  He grabbed my upper arms and shook me gently. “Listen to me. You know newly turned vampires don’t rise if their turning was close to dawn, so that they don’t burst into flames when they greet the morning sun.”

  I knew that. Three hours from sunrise was the theoretical limit. The meaning of his words finally sank in. “If Alex’s turning was successful, he’ll only just be waking up now.” Oh God, I should have remembered that!

  Constantine smiled gently. “Do you want to come with me?”

  I nodded gingerly and sat up, but doubt stopped me from standing. “What if he’s not…?” Not alive. Not turned. Not happy with the choice I made for him. Scratch that; I didn’t care if he was so mad at me that he never wanted to
see me again. All that mattered was for him to still be part of my world. “I can’t.”

  “I’ll bring him to you.” The softness of Constantine’s tone surprised me, as did his certainty.

  “Thank you.”

  “I would do anything for you. You know that.” I did, but I couldn’t focus on what it meant. I was too preoccupied with the possibility of being in Alex’s arms again.

  I could have him back. I could have another chance. I could even have forever.

  I’d just have to wait a bit longer, and then I’d know if Alex was really gone or not.

  Epilogue

  It’s hard to believe that only two nights ago, I was sure I’d never again be seeing Alex’s eyes.

  Less than forty-eight hours ago, under Sheena’s worried, watchful eye, Constantine turned my emotional switch from “devastated” to “hopeful” and then proceeded to make good on his promise.

  Alex wasn’t gone.

  In Constantine’s words, “he was looking around stupidly” and nearly ripped my ex’s arm off when the latter tried to feed him. Still, Alex was composed and clean by the time the two came back to Constantine’s.

  When the door opened, I stopped myself from wearing a moat into the floor with my pacing. It took great effort to hold back from tackling Alex. Instead I looked at him carefully, trying to spot the difference—any difference—between his new self and the man I knew and loved. I searched his eyes for a hint of resentment. There was none. Only love shown in the smile he gave me.

  Unable to put my relief into words, I flew into his arms, which closed around me. “I love you,” I said, the words long overdue, and kissed him the way he deserved to be kissed, declaring my love again and again every time our lips separated.

  From what I’ve seen so far, Alex seems to have taken to his change well enough. He’s tamed the hunger already. I guess his first feeding from one of us and his preexisting ethical code have helped with that, but I still dread what will happen if he needs to feed from a human.

  The council doesn’t know about his turning, and we’re planning on keeping it that way for as long as possible. That way if he decides to keep in touch with friends and family, he’ll just have to find a way to explain to them why he suddenly became sunlight intolerant. We haven’t yet talked about how he wants to deal with work and his mother. We haven’t talked much in general. Other things needed to be done first.

  Alex has been refusing to give flying a chance, says he’s too grounded for that, but I at least convinced him to let me fly him to his car last night—and I listened to him grumble about his trunk being busted.

  We drove to his mom’s place. I hated cleaning up the mess in his childhood bedroom. The sheets reeked, and the mattress was soaked all the way through. There was no way the blood would be washed away from them, or from my memory. We stuffed them in garbage bags, which we drove to the nearest dumpster, praying nobody noticed us.

  The powers that be were listening, as I suspect they have been since I first met Alex.

  The room stank only slightly less like a slaughterhouse after the second thorough cleaning with bleach, and we decided to leave the windows open for the night, hoping fresh air would help.

  I insisted we fly back, but Alex wouldn’t even hear of it. The lid of his trunk is now kept closed with several layers of duct tape.

  We’d just entered the mansion again when we ran into Liza, who demanded to know when Constantine would be back.

  Who knows?

  He’s meeting the remaining council tonight in hopes of convincing them that our actions, namely the dusting of two of their members, were necessary. I repeatedly offered to go with him, but he wouldn’t let me.

  I hope he succeeds. If he doesn’t, we have to go underground for a long time, and by underground I don’t mean his humongous and luxurious basement.

  “The girls are asking for him.” Liza pouted prettily.

  Yeah, right. The girls.

  All three of them have become far more attached to him than is advisable. I wonder what will happen when we find the rest of them. Will Constantine start a harem? He said yesterday that he plans to keep them with him until he figures out a solution with the council. I think he just loves having three gorgeous women falling over themselves for him.

  Let him. I have Alex.

  Promising Liza we’d let her know if we heard from Constantine, we pushed our way past her, holding hands.

  Sheena was nowhere in sight, but that was expected; her internal clock is the opposite of ours. Night equals sleep time to her body, and I see no reason for that to change.

  Sheena doesn’t appear to be in a hurry to go home, by the way. On the contrary, yesterday afternoon she mentioned she’d arranged for some of her clothes to be brought in. “If you run, I run,” she said. “I’m safer with you.” I think Wesley gave her the idea; he seems to have taken her under his wing and would probably hate to lose her company.

  I don’t think she has much to fear; there has been no sign of Willoughby, who probably thinks he’s exacted his revenge. That’s actually unfortunate, because I want to find him and make him answer the two questions that have been plaguing me. I asked Constantine, but he has no idea why I was chosen as vampire zero, so to speak, or what Ádísa’s comment about my family meant.

  Sheena isn’t really concerned with all this, of course. She insists Willoughby may come after her at any second. I think her reason for sticking around is, in fact, also Constantine. The man is going to have his hands full for a while.

  I’m not feeling sorry for him. I’m too busy enjoying my time with Alex.

  Constantine has allowed us our privacy—although he grimaces every time he sees us kiss.

  “I’ve made arrangements for the young ladies to spend the night in my quarters so I can ensure they are comfortable.” Yeah, right. “You may settle in the guest wing. Don’t make me regret my hospitality.” Or else was implied.

  We didn’t.

  Not last night, anyway.

  * * * *

  I haven’t fed and yet can’t be bothered. I lie sprawled on my back in Constantine’s bed, trying not to think too hard about where I am and what I’m doing.

  I look at the man between my legs and tangle my fingers in his black hair. “We shouldn’t.” I drift off, pleasure turning whatever I was planning to say into a moan.

  Gray eyes meet mine. “Will you relax? He’ll never know!”

  Of course he’ll know, and he’ll probably kill us both or hand us over to the council to do that for him.

  We were only supposed to have gone to his room for Alex to borrow clean clothes. But Constantine’s bed was just so huge, and so… there, we were unable to resist.

  Constantine has been sickeningly nice to me since he hauled me away from Alex’s dead body, but I doubt he’ll keep being nice once he smells my little…carnal reunion with Alex in his bed.

  I’m trying extremely hard to care about that while Alex pumps three fingers inside me, his tongue flicking my clit.

  I fail. Spectacularly.

  Later, exhausted and sated, I trace Alex’s jugular with my tongue, graze my teeth over it. He grabs my hair and presses my mouth against his flesh, but I just nuzzle it.

  “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?” he asks.

  She did indeed. All the time. I let out a deep, throaty chuckle and sink my fangs into the smooth column, letting his rich blood fill my throat. I have all I need and am where I want to be. I’m happy.

  Hopefully I’ll still feel the same way when Constantine returns with news from the council.

  If he returns.

  He still hasn’t called, and I can’t say I’m not a little worried. For all I know, despite his charm and the fact that he’s right, the council decided to execute him on the spot and the remaining members are now coming for us.

  They can’t come inside this house, thanks to Wesley.

  Even if they do, Alex and I will handle it.

 
; Loose Id Titles by Sotia Lazu

  Cherry Stem

  Sotia Lazu

  Oldest of two siblings, Sotia spends her days stuck in a desk job while daydreaming.

  Although Greek, she only writes in English. Her genre of choice is erotic romance novels with a twist, the characters of which aren't exactly hero-material at first glance. She likes making them fight for their happiness but the romantic in her can’t resist happy endings.

  Sotia cries at sappy movies and wishes she could take in all the stray dogs in the world. She lives in Athens, Greece, with her husband—whom she met through writing—and their two rescue dogs, one of which might be part-pony.

  Catch up with Sotia on her blog, http://justsotia.blogspot.com, or follow her on Twitter, https://twitter.com/#!/justsotia.