Tainted Blood (39 page)

Oliver pounded on the door again, this time even harder. “I can hear you in there! Open the door!” he shouted.

I turned for the door but Carter grabbed my arm and stopped me. “What about you?” he said.

“I’ll be fine,” I told him even though I wasn’t quite sure this statement was true. “Just get her out of here, keep her safe, and call Felix.” I kept my voice very low in the hopes the still pounding Oliver wouldn’t hear me. “I’ll keep Oliver here until Felix arrives,” I told Carter, but he hesitated. “Go!” I whispered fiercely. I shoved them into Kiera’s room. I pulled the bedroom door closed, and again I wondered where my “security” was.

I took a moment to force back the tears that I felt fighting their way to the surface. I made a wish—not that I thought it would be granted—but I wished for Carter and Kiera to make it to safety, and I wished for them to have a very long and happy life together. Then I hoped with all of my heart that I could get the same wish for me and Oliver. Above all else, I just wished that I’d make it through the night and that Oliver would soon be my Oliver again.

Oliver was still beating on my door and shouting. I pressed my ear to Kiera’s bedroom door and thought I heard the window slide open with a loud grating sound. I hoped Oliver hadn’t heard it. I rushed to the front door where I paused and listened. He’d gone silent; the pounding had stopped and I feared that he had heard my friends sneaking out the window.

But, from the other side of the door, in a very low, spine-chilling voice, I heard him say, “I can hear your heart, Laney. You sound like a scared rabbit.”

I took a deep breath then exhaled slowly.
It’s now or never.
Never probably would have been a wiser choice, but with a trembling hand, I opened the door.

He was leaning on the doorframe, both hands up high on it, leering at me as I looked up at him, my heart racing. The porch light illuminated his dark eyes. “May I come in?” he asked menacingly.

Feeling defeated I stepped aside and he entered my dark apartment, closing the door and locking it behind him. My chest was tight.

“I expected to find you at my place,” he said in a low voice.

I could just make out his silhouette coming closer to me. I jumped when I felt him run a finger down my cheek. His finger continued to travel all the way down my neck to my collar bone. I was afraid, and I wasn’t sure what I was more afraid of: Carter and Kiera getting out of the apartment before Oliver found them, or the possibility of Oliver being taken away from me once Felix got to him. Or was it Oliver that I was most afraid of right then?

In the dark of my living room, lit dimly by the glow of the stove and microwave clocks, I saw Oliver take a seat on the couch.

“Come sit beside me,” he said and he patted the cushion next to him. It reminded of the first time he had done that same thing, not so long ago, but so much pain ago.

Holding myself, I trudged to the couch and plopped down beside him. I decided that Kiera and Carter must’ve made it out and I was really hoping Felix would soon arrive because right then I realized what I feared most. It was Oliver; he was what I was most afraid of because he wasn’t
my
Oliver. This Oliver, the one sitting beside me, was capable of terrible things—things that had caused me great
pain
, and he was capable of causing me so much more of it.

“You’re sad,” he stated quietly.

Without responding I brushed freshly fallen tears away and wiped my shaky hands on my jeans.

“Why?” he asked, his face very close to mine. I could smell
her
on him.

A short, sharp, hysterical laugh escaped me. “You’re kidding, right?” I felt like he was playing with me. Like he was a cat and I was a mouse. A mouse that would soon lose its life when the cat lost interest and grew hungry.

“Say it,” he said low and seductively.

“Say what?” I breathed. I looked at him and quickly looked away. He was so close and in that brief second the dim light was enough for me to see that his pupils were large, swallowing up the color of his eyes. My brain told me to be very afraid, that he was already lost to
the
bloodlust or witchcraft or poisoned blood, but my heart told me to give him whatever he wanted. I cursed them both: my heart and my brain. I didn’t know which to believe, which to follow.

His voice dropped even lower, I could feel his cool breath on my neck. “You told me to man-up.” A shiver went down my spine, causing my entire body to tremble as he leaned even closer to me. His finger traced my jaw. “Are you cold?” he asked in a low, sensual voice.

I shook my head, but on instinct I was hugging myself. Not because I was cold, but because I was terrified. Terrified of Oliver and what might happen if Felix didn’t get there soon. I knew
my
Oliver would
never
hurt me. This Oliver…was unpredictable.

A few more tears fell, and he wiped one away, popping it into his mouth. “I want to taste more of you,” he said softly, his cool breath on my neck again, his finger tracing my vein. “They’re taunting me,” he whispered in my ear. I whimpered because I knew he was referring to my veins—my blood. My mind was racing and my heart was thudding so hard I could hear it. Oliver had always been the one to save me, to rescue me, when I’d been in danger—until recently, anyway.

Who was going to save me from him?

Where
’s
Felix?
I thought for the millionth time. My brain reeled. I tried to figure out what I could do to distract Oliver, if that was even possible.

His fingers trailed down my cheek and his body was right against mine. I was shaking. “Don’t be afraid, Laney,” he said in a low whisper right against my ear.

I turned my face so that my eyes could meet his, and in the dim light I could see him fairly clearly. It was my tears that were blurring my vision. Oliver tilted his head slightly and looked at me curiously.

“You still love me, don’t you?”

I nodded, and he smiled but it wasn’t a smile I was used to; this one was…victorious, as if he’d just gotten what he’d come for. He began unzipping his black hoodie and I considered making a run for it. But I didn’t, because I knew I would only make it so far before he caught me and he’d be angry, and I didn’t want to know what anger would do to him in his current state. All I could do was hope that Felix was on his way, climbing the stairs, as Oliver shrugged out of his sweatshirt.

Oliver pulled my body against his and looked down into my eyes for a long moment. He kissed me, crushing his mouth to mine. I didn’t return the kiss and he pressed his lips against mine even harder. It hurt, and I whimpered in pain beneath his mouth. I don’t know if he mistook the sound for pleasure, or if it was my lip splitting open that had him begin pressing me down onto the couch.

I struggled beneath him as his lips continued to press against mine. In a flash, he grabbed both of my hands and he held them over my head and stared down into my eyes. “It’s okay, Laney. I’m just going to make you mine, forever. Just like you wanted.” He crushed his lips to mine again and I struggled harder. He held both of my hands in one of his, and with his free hand, he went for the button on my jeans. I screamed from under his lips and cried so hard my body shook.

This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not this way.

“Stop struggling,” he growled against my mouth.

One of my hands slipped free of his grip, and I started hitting, slapping, and shoving at him. His hand that had been struggling with the button on my jeans snapped up like lightning and caught my free hand. He stared into my tear filled eyes again and his narrowed on mine. He came back in for a kiss, hesitant this time, and at the same time, he slipped his fingers between mine, clasping our hands together.

I squeezed his hands tight and dug my fingernails into the backs of his hands, he actually groaned in pain. It didn’t have the effect I’d hoped for. I wanted to get his attention like I had when I smacked him at the party. I wanted to cause him pain and get him to come to his senses for even a brief moment, but that’s not what happened.

I cried out as his fangs sank into my neck. The pain was blinding. Actually and truly blinding!

I struggled and screamed, but it did me no good. He pinned me down to the couch and I couldn’t move. He moaned as he drank from me, and after several long pulls from my vein, I felt myself growing weaker. I was terrified he wouldn’t stop, that he’d kill me. My fear fueled me one last time. I screamed as loud as I could and squeezed his hands as hard as I possibly could, digging my nails into his skin again.

I don’t know why it happened or how, but he stopped. His body slumped on mine, pushing all of the air out of me for a few minutes. He was totally limp and heavy on top of me.

Once I was able to catch my breath I tried to wiggle my way out from under him, but it was no use, he had me pinned to the couch and he was out, completely motionless. The only thing I was able to do, and with some effort, was pull my hands free of his. He stirred a little when I did this, but he didn’t wake.

I was weak and sobbing under an unconscious vampire. The vampire that I loved and wanted to spend my life with, but this wasn’t really him. This was some distorted, twisted, unfeeling, menace in my vampire’s body.

I cried out for help, but Oliver was so heavy on my chest that I was sure no one could hear me, and considering that no one had arrived after my initial cries, I didn’t figure anyone was coming. I was terrified that he would wake up hungry and that would be it for me. There was nothing I could do. I just lay there, trapped under him, fighting the blur that was taking over my vision.

Eventually, the blur won and everything went black.

When I woke, strips of sunlight were streaming in through the blinds in the living room. I
tried to sit up but the room started spinning. “
Oliver?
”
I
whispered.
I was cold and my entire body ached, especially my neck.

“Are you okay?”
I heard Oliver’s voice. From where I lay on the couch, I searched the room for him. He was in the chair near my feet. He had his elbows on his knees and he was staring at the floor with his hands in his hair.
Without lifting his head
to look at me, he asked again,
“Are
you
okay?

I forced myself to sit and rested my head against the arm of the couch so that I could see him. There was blood soaked into the sleeve and down the front of my T-shirt. “I-I think so,” my voice was hoarse from screaming.

He slowly looked up at me and I saw my Oliver. My Oliver was back. He
moved to the floor
and
kneel
ed
in front of
me
.
He brushed my hair back then held my face in his hands. “I could have killed you.”

I lightly shook my head and it hurt to move my neck. “I don’t think you would have.” I pulled his hands from my face and held them but he pulled them free from mine.

With tears sparkling in his deep, green eyes he said, “I turned myself in. They’re taking me away from you.”

I was already sobbing before he finished the sentence. “No,” I sniveled. I feared this was coming. I knew deep down that this was going to happen. But the reality of it felt like a knife being stabbed right into my heart. “They can’t,” I whispered.

He blinked back his own tears that were threatening to fall and brushed my cheek again. “But they can, and they are,” he said softly. “
I was meant to take care
of you, not hurt you, Laney. I have failed.”

I shook my head. “No, no you didn’t. I’m fine, you’re fine,” I whispered desperately. I ran an unsteady hand down his chest.

He took my hand in his and kissed my fingers. “They’re waiting outside for me now.”

I frantically glanced at the door, and in my panic, I tried to devise a plan for us to escape, together. This was my Oliver, the one I’d fallen in love with, the one I
would
spend the rest of my life with. He’d been missing, lost in some vicious vessel. And now, now that he was back, I had to lose him again?

“When will you be back?” I asked as I balled the front of his T-shirt in my hands.

“I do not know,” he whispered, resting his forehead against mine.

“Wait, you will be back, right?” He didn’t say anything and I was suddenly afraid that he would be relocated. “Oliver, when will you be back?” I raised my voice. My breathing was ragged, there was a huge lump in my throat and I thought I might hyperventilate any moment. His eyes met mine and I asked again, “You’re coming back, right?”

“I will be put into lockdown and evaluated,” he told me and I just couldn’t bear the thought of Oliver being treated like a criminal. But he still wasn’t answering me.

“You’re not answering me,” I said and heavy tears fell from my eyes.

He stood, and I grabbed his wrist, pulling myself off of the couch and into his arms. “Don’t go,” I cried. I hugged myself to his chest as tight as I could. “You’re fine now, I can tell.”

“It was you, Laney,” he told me as his arms held me close to him. “Your blood saved both of us.”