CHAPTER 7
Mia had been with nearly two dozen men afterher parents died, and had sex countless times, but the consumingneedshe felt for David was something new to her. With thoseother men, she’d been seeking comfort. She’d been looking to easeher curiosity about sex and a man’s body. Looking to be in the nowand to be close to someone again no matter how briefly.
Human or vampire, it hadn’t mattered whichshe took into her bed, as long as she found them attractive and shecould bury her sadness in sex for a bit.
Her first time with a man had been a monthafter the fire. At the time, she knew his name, but she onlyremembered him as number one now. She’d been able to forget herheartache for a bit in him, but she’d felt lost and alone againwhen they were done. However, those moments of experiencing fleshagainst flesh and having someone hold her in their arms had been abrief reprieve from her life. Those moments of being able toforget, no matter how small they were, had been addicting.
Before the fire, she would have waitedforever until her mate came along before having sex. After, shehadn’t believed in anything enough to continue to believe she wouldfind her mate.
Though, at one time she’d truly believedthat she’d felt her mate out there, somewhere. Or at least shethought she’d felt him waiting for her, back in the days when she’dbeen a teenager concocting silly fantasies of perfect worlds andperfect happiness.
Mia realized now that dreams of perfectionwere absurd, but she may have been right about one thing—her matereally might have been out there waiting for her already.
If David truly was her mate, and she wasbeginning to believe he was, why couldn’t she have found himsooner? When she’d been so lost and alone after the fire? When noone had cared if she lived or died, not even her on some days?
The loneliness and misery following thedeaths of her parents had been an unending gulf of despair that hadthreatened to ruin her, and it nearly had. She could have usedsomeone to lean on then, to hold her and care for her, to let herknow she was still loved when she’d never felt more unloved in herlife.
But who would she be now, if she had lostherself in another that way, even if that other was her mate?
Her childhood had been sheltered and she’dknown nothing but love. She’d never had to stand on her own. Shewould do anything to go back and change the night of the fire, tosave her parents, but though there were times she’d hated herselfover the years, hated her life and the things she’d done tosurvive, she was also proud of the fact that she was still here.That somehow she, a cloistered child who had never known hardship,had managed to survive things that would have broken otherscompletely.
Sure, she had some serious issues thatfrustrated her to no end, and she’d made numerous mistakes, hadthings she would change in her life, but she was stillhere.She would survive this and get through it the best she could, justas she had everything else.
The first four years after the fire had beengrueling, but one day when she was twenty-two, she’d sat herselfdown and taken a good look at her life. The newest vampire she’dbeen seeking comfort from had walked out her door without so muchas a backward glance.
They’d been spending time together fornearly three months; nothing serious, no promises exchanged. If shereally tried, she could probably remember his name, but from thevery beginning she hadn’t cared what it was and only thought of himas number twenty-three. She’d only cared about those minutes thatshe could experience with him which would allow her to keep fromthinking.
When twenty-three left, she realized she’dspent three months with him, the longest she’d spent with anyonesince her parents died, and she felt nothing about his departurefrom her life. He’d been just another man passing through, and notoneof them had done anything to ease the sadness inher.
After her parents’ deaths, she’d tried tobury her grief in one guy or another, and in one place or another,as she’d also moved constantly. In those four years, all she’dsucceeded in doing was burying herself in an attempt not to thinkabout what she’d lost, or grieve for it.
At one time, she’d dreamt of a family allher own. She used to love to read and learn, especially anythinghaving to do with astronomy. The stars had always held a specialplace in her heart and fascinated her from the time she was oldenough to look at them. After number twenty-three, she realized shehadn’t read a book or stared more than passingly at the stars infour years.
She could blame her disconnect from life,and the things she’d once cared about, on the fact that everythinghad been torn away from her in a single night, but she knew itcouldn’t all rest there. She’d made her choices. She’d lain inthose men’s beds and tried to forget everything she’d once been ina cowardly endeavor to hide from the painful truth of being anorphan instead of facing it.
Maybe if she’d cared for any of those menshe would have felt differently, but she hadn’t given a crap aboutany of them. She’d used them far more than they ever could haveused her.
On that day three years back, she’d realizedshe had nothing except endless loneliness and sadness ahead of her,unless she did something to change her life.
And change it she would. She becamedetermined to get her life together. She knew it wouldn’t happenall at once, but gradually she’d rebuilt it. She’d stayed off thedating scene, though she hadn’t actually been dating any of thosemen, not really. She’d gone to the library and picked up books onastronomy once more.
She’d moved back to the East Coast fromCalifornia. If she was going to rebuild her life, she couldn’tcontinue to run and hide; she had to go home and face it. She’dnever been able to bring herself to go back to what remained of thehome she’d shared with her parents, but she’d at least made it backto Connecticut. It had been a huge step for her on her road tohealing.
She’d enrolled herself in a couple nightclasses. She didn’t know what she would ever do with an education,but school had been something to do with her time, and it had givenher a purpose. She’d found a job at a local coffee shop and rentedan apartment down the road from it.
She could have survived without a job; she’dfully matured by that point and could use her abilities with farmore consistency. However, she’d spent the last four years takingfrom others and manipulating minds the best she could. She wasdetermined to change that, to do something different with her life.To stand on her own.
On her days off work, she spent a lot oftime exploring museums and traveling the coast to see the sights.She watched the sunset and stars appear from numerous locations. Ifshe had any extra money, she put some in savings and donated therest to a shelter in the city that specialized in runaway children.Twice a month she made the hour drive into Hartford to volunteerthere.
Over the course of the next year, she wasable to get the panic attacks plaguing her since the fire undercontrol. She took back her life, and she finallygrieved.For the first time since her parents died, she sat down and trulyacknowledged everything that had been taken from her, and shewept.
She’d cried when they died, but only on thatfirst night while she watched the flames consume everything sheloved. She hadn’t cried again until years later, and then shehadn’t stopped for weeks on end, until one day she finally felt ascab healing over a wound she hadn’t realized festered sobadly.
For three years, she worked to rebuildherself. She abstained from sex, and she regained control of herlife. Until three months ago, when all control had been torn awayfrom her again….
Mia closed the door to her room, pulling thetoo-large coat off as she struggled against the memories trying toburst free. She draped the coat over the desk chair nearby andleaned against the door. David stood before her, his coat stillunzipped, his body coiled as if he were about to pounce. Shedesperately wanted him, but if he touched her she may lose it andrethink everything about this.
How could she yearn for him so badly, yetstill feel a burgeoning panic at the idea of him touching her?
