“Yes, I did, but you don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t understand how you can stand there looking and sounding like my dear Jocelyn and yet betray me so heartily.”
“I didn’t mean to. I am the same woman. I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t, not without revealing what I am, and that knowledge is too dangerous for you to possess.”
“What are you then, if not a demon?”
“I can’t tell you. I won’t endanger you that way. I’m not sure I’m any better than a demon, but I assure you, that’s not what I am.”
“Tell me!”
There was no chance for her if he continued to believe she was a demon, not when he was always so religious. She wasn’t sure the truth was any better, but at least it was the truth. “I’m a vampire. Lawrence turned me.”
“What?”
“It’s the truth.”
“It’s ludicrous.” Michael’s tone betrayed his words. Anger, not disbelief, tinged his voice.
“You know it’s true.” Amaia took a tentative step toward him.
“A vampire? Standing here in my home in the middle of the day? How is that any better? You are not the woman I loved.” Michael paused. When he spoke again, his voice held a deathly chill. “Get out. I don’t want to ever see you again.”
“Michael, please.” Another step, less tentative than the first, desperation making her bold.
“I said get out.”
What could she do? He needed time. “Fine. I’ll leave. But please, Michael, give me some hope. Don’t throw me away.”
“How can I throw you away? You were never mine.”
His words sliced through her. “Michael, please. You know that’s not true. I understand you’re angry. You have every right to be, but we can resolve this.”
Michael snorted. “Really? You think I could ever love you? You are not the woman I pledged myself to. You took her from me.”
“I swear, Michael, I’m the same woman. Your anger blinds you. If you look at it rationally, you’ll see that I’m just the same.”
“Don’t make me escort you from the premises.”
Amaia saw his hands shaking and knew the reason he had kept his distance was to refrain from striking her. “All right. I’ll leave, and I won’t bother you again unless you want me.”
“I will never want you.”
“Still, Michael, you used to leave a candle out for me back when I was mortal. Remember? If you change your mind, leave two lit candles in your window, and I’ll come. I’ll be watching for you, always.” She stood for a moment, hoping for something, although she couldn’t have said what. Silence crackled between them. There was nothing more she could do. With a last look at his new form, she turned and left.
***
The air toyed with Amaia’s hair as she ran, whipping it behind her and tossing it on the breeze. If she ran fast enough and long enough, maybe she would outrun the nerves in her stomach. Three days. It had been three days since Michael had flung her out of his life. It might as well have been three lifetimes.
Running provided her only release. Every instinct told her to kill. She wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to rip a man’s throat out. She craved the mess, the gushing blood—the proof of her lack of humanity. The proof of her vampirism. Michael had forsaken her because of it. She might as well relish it.
Except, the desire that urged her to do it was the same one that held her back. He had turned from her. He hated and despised her. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to do that which she knew Michael despised. Not now. Not after he had learned the truth and it had pulled him from her.
“What are you doing?” Amaia felt a flash of irritation at Lawrence’s intrusion into her mind.
“Running.”
“Why?”
How could she answer that? There was no answer.
“Why?”
Or at least, there was no answer she could ever give Lawrence.
“I asked you a question, Amaia.”
His tone brooked no argument. Ignoring him would only cause problems. “Because I want to.”
“You have obligations. You’re booked tonight.”
“Cancel it.”
“Why?”
“Do I need a reason? It’s not as if we need the money.”
“Yes, you need a reason to disobey me.”
Maybe she should go. A rough fuck might be just the thing to clear her mind.
The knot in her stomach tightened.
No, sex wouldn’t help. It would only remind her of him, of the one man she wanted and couldn’t have. The thought of someone else’s hands on her sent her skin crawling.
“I can’t do it. Not tonight. Please, Lawrence. It would only end in disaster.”
“Are you saying you can’t control yourself?”
She hesitated. Control was everything. If she didn’t have that, it would be admitting the ultimate weakness to Lawrence. That was the surest way to rouse his suspicions to an unmanageable level.
“No, of course not. I’m saying I’ve been doing this for over a century and a half now. I deserve a break.”