“Twice I’ve dreamt of one of your kind trying to help me. I still died both times in the end, but someone did try.” I thought about those dreams. I’d willingly gone along with their plans to help me and still died. I refused to die again or to go along with someone else’s plans in this life. I needed to try something different. But what? Maybe that’s what the Taupe Lady meant by every death has a purpose. They all give me a chance to learn.
He quietly threw away the empty wrappers. I could see his mind turning over what I’d shared.
“Let’s get some more food,” I said. Seriously, he’d eaten just about everything on his own.
He nodded and walked beside me on our second trip to the gas station.
When we got back, I went into the bathroom to change. We’d both been quiet on the walk. I’d mostly debated with myself. Now that he knew I wanted to Claim him in order to avoid a forced Claiming, perhaps he would be reasonable. But seeing his troubled expression after I’d acknowledged I had still died when someone tried to help me had me reconsidering. He truly did seem to want to help me; and if he thought Claiming him would end up getting me killed, I didn’t think he’d go for it. Fine. I just needed to convince him that I cared about him and get him to let me Claim him that way. He would eventually forgive me for the deception. I was sure of it.
I stepped out of the bathroom and saw him sitting in the chair, still deep in thought. I wanted to roll my eyes but managed to suppress the urge. I did that a lot I realized. I suppressed urges and feelings because I knew he was too aware of me. It was a habit already. But maybe my reactions to him were the key to all of this. I’d witnessed his reaction to me, but did he really know my reaction to him? In past lives, they’d used it as a means to control me. But I knew better now. I could let the physical reactions show without letting the emotional attraction grow.
Focusing on the flutter I felt every time I looked at him, I let the feeling fill me. The rightness of him, which I usually stomped on with imaginary steel-toed boots, lifted its well-trodden head. My heart somersaulted and stuttered heavily.
Luke’s head jerked up in surprise. As he looked at me, a blush spread across my cheeks.
“Would you mind lying down with me? I think you’re right. I do seem to sleep better with you.”
I didn’t miss his quick glance at the door. Frowning, I watched him slowly get to his feet. He looked reluctant.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, truly confused. Was I acting too nice again? Maybe letting him hear my heart stutter hadn’t been a good move.
“I, uh, think you should try to sleep on your own for a bit,” he muttered.
“I just told you that I—” I rubbed my face and cut off my sharp words. Affection. Show him you care, not that he annoys the crap out of you, I reminded myself. “Okay, fine,” I agreed with barely suppressed agitation.
He walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.
Annoyed, I marched to the bed. I wasn’t tired, but a dream called. Better to give into it on a bed than try to keep it at bay.
As soon as the blankets covered me, my eyes closed and another past pulled me down.
Perhaps it was still my emotions from before succumbing to the dream, but I felt angry. Rage-filled really. I wanted to rip someone’s head off with my own two hands and shove it up their...
“She’s awake,” a man sighed.
“Thank the skies,” someone said contentedly. “I thought that last cut might have gone too deep.”
I looked down at myself. I lay naked on a pile of blood-covered straw. A cut ran along one of my lower ribs. The glistening blood indicated its newness. I felt the pain, but the rage overshadowed it. I focused on the men crouched over me who eyed me with peaceful detachment, and I drew more emotion from them. Every bit of anger, resentment, prejudice, fear...anything and everything other than an unresisting peace. My wrath grew. Blood started seeping from my various wounds as if my emotion filled me so much that I had no room to spare for the precious liquid. Soon their eyes began to close. Blood poured from me. Rage consumed me as my last breath drifted from my body in a furious cry.
I woke sitting up wide-eyed and panting. Anger shook my body. A growl started growing until it was a shout of rage. When I realized it came from me, I clamped my mouth shut.
“I’m sorry, Bethi,” Luke whispered as he stood up from the chair. He peeled off his shirt and slid under the covers with me.
I barely noticed. I wanted to hurt someone. My hands shook with the need.
“Lay down,” he coaxed, leaning on an elbow.
Turning to look down at him, I struggled with my urge to punch him in the face. He’d watched me suffer through that dream just as those men had watched one of my sisters bleed out.
“Let go of the dream,” he said. His hazel eyes met mine steadily. “I’m here. I won’t leave you. Ever.” He reached up, wrapped an arm around me, and gently tugged me toward him. “I’m sorry.” His lips pressed against my forehead.
The swell of anger began to recede slightly. The leftover emotions from that dream frightened me. Shaking, I laid my head on his chest.
His fingers ran over my hair, soothing me until the shaking stopped and my eyes drifted closed. I didn’t want to sleep ever again. I wanted to stay awake and live forever.
Chapter Eight