“Hmmm, that’s true,” I mumbled, continuing to watch the guys. “But I bet we could set something up where we could have the coven donate a pint of their blood or something to help him.”
“That’s an awful lot to ask of them, Portia,” she replied with a shake of her head. “And it would drive your father crazy to be tied to something like that. If he’s still like himself in any capacity,” she amended.
I couldn’t argue with her about that. I knew it drove Vance insane to be beholden to someone else for blood. Even though he loved the taste and feel of it, I was pretty sure he would at least consider an alternative if one became available.
“I don’t know what he will be like, Mom,” I said honestly. “This is Damien we are dealing with here. I wouldn’t put it past him to drive him crazy with need just to mess with him. It all depends on what he wants to use him for.”
My mom flinched visibly at my words, and I felt bad for being so blunt with her, but I was done trying to sugar coat things for people. If they couldn’t accept the truth of the way things were, then they didn’t need to be here.
“Love you, Mom,” I said, slowly rising up to kiss her cheek. “Hang in there. We’ll figure something out.”
She gave me a slight smile of encouragement before I stood and walked over to Vance.
“Hey baby,” he said when I bent to slide my arms around his shoulders. “What’s up?”
“I’m going to lie down and take a nap for a bit. These sessions with Hex are wearing me out.”
“You’re working yourself too hard, you know?” Vance replied, reaching up to pat my arms. “Go on. Get some rest. You deserve it.”
He turned so he could give me a quick peck before I slipped from his reach, but I could feel his stare following after me, as well as the worried aura he had about him. Something was concerning him, but he wasn’t quite ready to explore that conversation with me yet.
At that moment I didn’t care either. I just needed some sleep. I flipped back the covers, snuggling instantly into the comfort of the bed and let oblivion claim me.
The scream that cut through the night caused me to bolt straight up in bed. I struggled to throw the bedding off and jumped up before I even gathered my full faculties. I stumbled for the door, dragging tangled blankets haphazardly along behind me as I rushed out of the room.
I stopped in shock when I found Vance kneeling on the floor, holding a crumpled Shelly in his arms. She appeared to be unconscious.
“What’s going on?” I asked, frozen to the spot, wondering why Vance might’ve attacked Shelly. Her blood held no power he would crave.
“She had some sort of vision,” Brad said, hurrying in from the other room with a wet rag, followed by Hex and Grandma appearing from two separate doors to the right. “This happens to her often with them. When she comes to she’ll be able to tell us what she saw. Thank goodness Vance’s reflexes are so fast. He caught her right before she hit her head on the coffee table.”
I felt horrible as his words sunk in. I should’ve known Vance was rushing to Shelly’s aide, not trying to hurt her.
He looked at me, his glance speaking a thousand words—I’d broken trust with him. He knew exactly what passed through my mind in those few moments, and now we both realized what my subconscious had kept hidden for a long, long, time.
I was afraid to trust him. I sighed in frustration, moving closer to stand by them.
“I’m sorry, Vance,” I whispered to him mentally, but there was no reply or acknowledgement he’d heard me, even though I knew he had.
Brad gathered Shelly into his arms, carrying her to their bedroom. Grandma and Hex went after him. I didn’t follow, knowing they would call when they were ready.
“Vance?” I questioned. He was still kneeling with his head hanging down. His eyes seemed to be staring at the floor as if he wanted to burn a hole in it. “Vance?” I asked again, this time into his mind, but I was greeted with that brick wall of his.
“I’m truly sorry,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.
He stood up and walked into our bedroom, procuring the tuxedo coat he’d been wearing when we left Damien. We didn’t have any other clothes except for those Shelly and Brad lent us. He slipped the coat on and brushed past where I was standing in the doorway watching, heading out into the hallway.
I stared, as I watched him leave the hotel room without so much as a word. It was then I became afraid he was truly angry with me, and I popped into the hall after him.
“Vance!” I called when I saw him standing by the elevator. I ran toward him. “Vance. Come back inside. You know we aren’t supposed to leave the room until your dad is gone.”
He didn’t reply, only kept staring at the elevator doors.
“Don’t leave. It’s not safe. Let’s talk this out. I know we can resolve this situation between us if we try. Please, just stay with me.”
“You had your chance, Portia,” he said softly, but when he looked at me his eyes were glowing, belying his anger. “Now go away and leave me alone.”
“Vance! Don’t talk like that! Please!” I begged, grabbing the sleeve of his coat and pulling him closer to me. I pressed my lips against his, clutching his head in my hands as I tried to mold myself against his body.
He pushed me up against the wall, returning my kiss with fervor. His tongue plunged into my mouth before he grabbed my hair and yanked my head to the side, sinking his teeth roughly into my neck to allow my blood to pour into his mouth.
He drank quickly, sucking at my neck, and I felt my strength depleting rapidly.
I suddenly realized what he was doing.
“Stop!” I said, shoving, trying to push him away, but then he froze me with his powers, drinking until he was holding me up with his own strength.
I could hear the little bell on the elevator, dinging as it passed each floor, signaling its approach.
Vance released me and scooped me into his arms, carrying me over to an alcove near the door to our suite. He deposited me there and turned to leave.
“Vance, I love you,” I said weakly, and I saw him pause, stiffening before he moved away.
He stepped into the elevator and vanished from my sight as the doors closed after him, leaving me in such low supply of blood I didn’t even know if I could get back into my room, let alone follow after him.
But then suddenly his mind was open to me once again. “I love you too,” he said softly, and I could feel the heaviness in his heart. “But I need a little space right now, baby, to sort some things out. You just stay put and get some rest. I’ll be back eventually.”
“You’re being a coward,” I said in a desperate attempt to keep him connected to me. “Quit backing out when things get tough and come talk to me. Let’s confront this issue head on.”
His rage rolled over me. “You think I’m a coward? Really, Portia? How many times have I died for you now?” he spat out vehemently, his anger with me spilling into my head with his words. “Maybe I should just be the monster you really think I am. How do you feel about that? Shall I stride out into the night and drink the blood of every witch who crosses my path?”
“Vance. Stop it,” I said with a sigh. “You know that isn’t what I meant. I’ve just been leery about subjecting you to temptation with the rest of the coven around.”
“You thought I’d attacked Shelly!” he countered, growing more upset with me. “What could I have possibly gained from doing such a thing? Why would you even consider it?”
“Vance,” I groaned, actually speaking his name out loud as I tried to adjust my position against the wall. “I’d just been woken up out of a dead sleep by a scream slicing through the air. I jumped out of bed, thinking someone was being attacked. I was half awake, trying to figure out what was going on when I saw you there, holding her unconscious in your arms. Even then I questioned why you would attack her. If the situation were reversed, how would you have handled it?”
“Well, I definitely wouldn’t have thought you attacked her,” he grumbled back to me.
“Obviously,” I replied. “I’m not a demon either, so why would I attack her?”
“Exactly,” he growled. “And Shelly’s not a witch, so regardless of my being a demon—you should have thought the same thing.”
His anger started rising again, and I suddenly felt very aggravated over his ever changing emotions and how quickly he flew off the handle. I was sick of his demon attributes always ruling him so absolutely.
Unfortunately I was too tired to realize I’d just projected all of my opinions over the situation straight into his head, until his heated emotions of both hurt and resentment bounced back into me.
“I’m a demon, Portia. If you can’t accept that, then you can’t accept me.” His voice was even and deadly quite, hidden menace pouring through it. The wall was instantly up between us, and I knew I’d done a very, very, bad thing.
I would’ve cried if I had the strength. For that matter, I’d have run after him and begged for his mercy had I been able to. But he made sure I couldn’t follow. All that was left for me to do was go to bed, try to rest as he’d suggested, and hope he came back. If he wasn’t here by the time my strength returned, I would go looking for him.
Trying to ignore the nausea I felt whenever Vance moved farther away from me physically, I struggled to my hands and knees, moving over to collapse outside the door. I had to knock because I didn’t have the key card, or the strength to pop back inside.
The door opened to reveal Hex staring down at me with a frown on his face. He started to speak, but I weakly lifted my hand, signaling him to stop.
“Don’t even start, Hex. I’m too tired to care at the moment,” I muttered. “Just get me to my bed, please.”
Hex gathered me up in his arms, and I could hear him cursing “that sorry demon” under his breath, letting me know his lack of love for Vance had grown to all new proportions.
He carried me into my room, carefully straightening the covers I’d destroyed earlier back to their proper places and tucking me inside them.
“Why do you tolerate it?” he asked roughly, unable to contain himself anymore.
“Because I love him,” I said softly, looking into his eyes. “I love him.”
Hex stood there for several moments, his hard gaze locked with mine before his features finally relaxed. He gave a slight nod and reached out to pat my quilt before he left the room without saying another word, turning out the light on his way past.
I was glad he didn’t push me any farther. My mind was hammered right now, and my heart was hurting. I could feel my world totally crumbling around me, and I couldn’t seem to catch the pieces and glue them back together quickly enough. They just tumbled faster and faster, threatening to bury me in their rubble. I felt lost—alienated from everyone I loved. I knew something needed to give. Unfortunately, I was beginning to realize it looked like I was going to be the one who broke under the pressure.
I wanted to cry, sob into my pillow, and throw my own little pity party, but Vance had taken care of my ability to do so for the moment. I finally succumbed to the blissful darkness that awaited me, sucking me into an unfeeling void of nothing.
My fear was realized in the form of a dream that tickled at the edges of my consciousness, as I began to come back to reality. I quickly realized my mental defenses were lowered because of the blood loss, and I had a mental connection with Vance. This wasn’t a dream. It was a vision of the witch he was currently attacking in a dark alleyway.
He had her frozen, pressed against a wall as he sunk his teeth into her, but he only drank a few swallows when he threw her to the side in distaste, wiping her blood from his mouth with the back of his hand as he stared at her in disgust.
“Go on! Get out of here!” he yelled at her as he watched her staring up at him with fearful eyes.
The girl scrambled to her feet and screamed as she moved through the alleyway.
“How long have I been asleep?” I asked through our link, when I noticed his rumbled appearance and unshaven face.
“For a whole day this time,” he answered with a sigh as he slouched back against the wall. “You’re wearing down, Portia. I can feel it—despite you having the Awakening.”
“I’m just tired,” I replied softly.
“It’s more than being tired. You’re mentally exhausted,” he said flatly.
“So are you,” I answered, still following the stumbling girl when I noticed another person turn the corner. “Looks like someone heard the screams,” I said, sizing up the man as the girl ran into his arms.
Vance sighed before he chuckled. “And he’s a warlock. Looks like I’ll get something to eat after all.”
“He’s just protecting what’s his, the same as you would. Let him go and come back to me,” I said calmly, trying not to add to the fire within him.
But the warlock attacked with his magic, and I knew there was no hope of stopping the fight now.
“Don’t kill him, Vance. Please don’t go that far,” I said choosing to leave the vision. I could stay and plead with him. I could even try to garner enough strength to pop him, but I didn’t. He wanted me to trust him? Well, now was his chance to prove it.
The door to my room opened a crack, and I could see the outline of Shelly as she poked her head inside.
“Are you awake?”
“Barely,” I replied. “Come in.”
She made her way over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?” she asked, concern lacing through her voice. “You’ve been asleep for a long time, and no one has seen or heard from Vance.”
“He’s fine, and I’m feeling better.” I tried to reassure her. After we sat together for several moments I continued. “What’s up?”
“I had a vision of Damien,” she answered. “He’s left the hotel now, and he’s going after another artifact.”
“I’ve expected as much. He’s gathering these things for a specific purpose, but he never told us what for. We didn’t know what was happening until it happened. He said he needed keys and that these artifacts are the keys. I’m assuming he wants to open something, I just not sure what that something is yet. It would help if I knew where he was going next.”