CHAPTER 7
Sawyer
A vampire.A motherfuckingvampire.
What is life anymore?
I’m half convinced I died in the crash, and this is some cruel afterlife, because why wouldn’t death suck as much as life did? Mythical creatures in the hereafter seem strange, so perhaps I was picked up from the accident and I’m a coma. This entire thing is something my brain is inventing in some medication-induced haze.
But can my mind invent something this realistic? The frosty temperatures, the exhilaration of fear, even the body aches? Besides, his fangs are right there—just inches away—and his hand is wrapped light but firm around my throat. Sharp little points jut out from his gums. They could tear into my flesh so easily—something I should definitely be fighting to escape. This certainly feels real. It seems like I’m alive, and it’s not in my head.
My hand twitches at his offer of touching them, to see if they’re as sharp as they appear. TofeelI’m not imagining the fantasy creature come to life and I’m definitely alive and well.
As well as a person can be after learning vampires are real, anyway.
Childhood me would be enthralled by this. I was once fascinated by a library book on Transylvania and all the elements they dedicated to the Dracula tale, to the point the country made it on the endless list of dream destinations.
He’s a vampire, and he’s claiming that witches, shifters, demons, and angels are all real, too. Which makes everything I grew up reading in books and watching in movies not a product of imagination after all. It isn’t religion from centuries past, or fear of phenomena early civilizations didn’t understand the way we do now, after centuries of research and study.
This is all steeped in truth.
“What can I do to make you understand you’re safe?” His voice, almost a purr, has me questioning how Ididn’tsee this sooner. His entire identity—his speech patterns, mannerisms, and behaviours—screamsotherworldly.
The allure I’ve felt since waking in his bed must be one of his vampire persuasion tricks, if the movies are anything to go by. Why my attraction for the handsome but probably dangerous stranger ruled my fear. When I glance up and into the faint red tinting his eyes, I think I wasn’t entirely wrong at least.
He’s asking what he can do to earn my trust, but my question is,isthere anything possible to make that happen? How could I trust the paranormal creature who should only exist within fiction? He could lie to me at any time. Lying is a skill, and he definitely has more practice than I do.
“What do you do for food?” The obvious first question, considering his fangs are inches from my neck and he’s already mentioned my blood smelling pleasant a few times.
Not sure how to feel about that one.
“Blood. Animals when required. Otherwise, the occasional hiker.”
“You found me bleeding.” While he hasn’t said it,Iwas meant to be that occasional hiker to him. I should have been his prey.
His tongue flicks against a fang, drawing what little attention I still have to the motion. “I followed it, intending to drink you dry, yes. But then I saw you and wanted to help. You’re too young and beautiful to die, and I was compelled to save you instead. As I’ve said a few times now, I vow to never harm you, Sawyer.” Enforcing his words, his fingers lift from my neck one at a time until his palm releases me entirely. His arm never lowers, just hovers, the threat of being grasped again still present.
“If you wanted to help, why refuse to let me go yesterday?”
His lip curls, making those juts even more noticeable. It seemed like a reactionary move rather than something planned. “Sunlight kills. If you left yesterday, I couldn’t follow.”
That explains the lack of windows and why he had to wait until sundown to get food. Why he has no food in this place to begin with…
“What will you do with me?” Do I even want to be asking this—to know?
“Keep you…safe. We’ll figure the rest out in a few days.” His eyes somehow darken further as he curls his fingers into a fist and slowly lowers his arm. His behaviours suggest something else, once again, but having no other path forward, I need to trust he’ll keep that promise.
I slide my foot, taking a subtle and near-silent move forward. His eyes lower to the space between us, and it’s impossible now not to see how his jerky and rapid movements have been concealed as he feigned humanity for my benefit. Well,attemptedto feign humanity.
“Is what movies portray true? You’re strong as hell, quick as a flash?”
He grins—a jolt to my sternum, because it’s so disarming compared to the last few minutes that felt ripped from a horror movie. It’s almost as unnerving as his entire existence. “Among other abilities, yes.”
“Such as?”
He simply winks, drawing my attention to his face again—and those fangs.
Trusting his invitation from moments ago remains, my hand lifts towards his face slowly. He goes deathly and eerily still, all except his jaw, which unhinges. His eyes return to the bottomless colour. Everything about him feels clearer now that he’s stopped hiding.
