“I’m fucking afraid!” She laughed dryly and shook her head. The knife in her hand swung to her side. “I’m sitting here, holding a knife, because my boyfriend murdered someone.”
“Yes. But that’s no reason to freak out.” Why was I so fucking bad at this? She blinked rapidly. Now I was the one who was afraid. “Give me the knife, Scout,” I said slowly.
“No.” She raised it again. Her hand was trembling. I bet I could grab it from her. I took a step toward her, and she took a step back. She had the hallway behind her that would take her to her room. Or her backyard. Where she could run. And call the police. And put me away.
My future flashed before me in a single moment. Me at my next birthday, dying and transforming into a vampire. Guards and prisoners all around me, witnessing it happen. I’d have to kill them all before they killed me. And killing all those people would cause a stir that humans wouldn’t overlook. I could expose the entire vampire community to humans.
No, I couldn’t let that happen.
“Give me the fucking knife,” I said with determination, this time through gritted teeth. I reached for her wrist, and she swiped the knife across the air between us.
“Tell me what you did,” she demanded.
“I already told you!” I yelled.
“But why?”
Something deep inside of me snapped.
Red.
My vision flashed for a moment, and the person I was before was gone. I stepped toward her again and she turned to run down the hall. I stalked after her. She froze at the fork in the hall that would take her to her room or the backyard. I brushed past her, covering the door to the back. She stared up at me with wide, terrified eyes.
“We just need to talk,” I said.
“Desi, please,” Scout pleaded with me as I backed her into her room.
“Drop the knife, and I’ll explain everything. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I bet that’s what you said to him, isn’t it?”
“He didn’t have a knife.”
“I don’t trust you.” She raised her arm again, but I smacked it back down. The feeling was mutual. She’d end up doing more damage to herself than to me if she tried to use the knife.
“Please,” I pleaded once more and reached for the knife. Maintaining eye contact, I bent down and took it from her slowly. She ducked and tried to rush past me. I caught her with my open arm and shoved her back. She landed on her mattress on the floor. Rolling quickly, she tried to kick me, but I crawled to her, pinning her down under me as I did.
Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, and mine matched her with the effort it took to stop her from moving. My hands gripped her wrists, while my left still held the knife. Chest to chest, we stared at each other, waiting for one of us to react. It was at that moment that I realized never once did she call me a monster or threaten to turn me in.
She wasn’t really afraid of me. Her feelings for me were just as powerful as mine were for her. That was what had her so scared.
My eyes flicked to her voluptuous lips. The memory of them touching my own was too powerful. I was lost in her. Enraptured by her heavy breaths against my chest. Our lips met. For a moment, I wondered if this would be our last. I needed to make it count, so I parted mine just a bit.
And then she kissed me back.
