Page 32 of Deviate Me

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Hell, I’d do it all over again.

And now that he doesn’t need me anymore, I have no purpose. What am I even gonna do after he ends up moving in with Jacob? Maybe I’ll just sit on the sofa, in that damn rundown house Ledger left us in, and rot away. Like the pathetic piece of shit I am.

My blood fizzles with rage at that thought. I’m still not satisfied.

I walk along the dark alley, leaving the evidence of my murderous feeding behind. It’s not like anyone is going to know it was a vampire. Not with the mess I made and the amount of blood I wasted. Humans don’t even know we exist, anyway.

Fuck them and their hideous blood.

My nostrils flare as I take a deep breath. The metallic stench makes my stomach turn. A few cars go by while I hide in the shadows. I know that I’m all bloody, and that if someone spots me, I’ll have to kill them. Not that I’m not in the mood to bring more death and destruction to this city. But I want something different now.

I hurry to cross the street, and stick to the dark. The buildings around are quiet. A lot of apartments must be empty, since it’s a Saturday night and people like to go out. It’s the perfect opportunity for me to get myself clean.

I break into a building through a slightly open window on the ground floor. Someone must have forgotten to close it properly. It’s the emergency stairway, so I make my way to the first floor and stay in silence for a second, picking up the sounds around me. I force the lock of the first empty apartment I find, using one of the many handy skills Ledger taught us.

It’s dark inside, clean and neatly organized with the typical cheap, modern furniture. Whoever lives here won’t be gone for too long, but it’s more than enough time for me to clean up and snatch some fresh clothes.

I make my way through the rooms quietly until I spot the bathroom. I don’t need to turn the lights on to see—that’s what a vampire’s superior vision is for. Stripping off my clothes feels like being reborn, for some reason, as if I’ve finally hatched the eggshell that trapped me. Although looking at Damien’s top, theone I was wearing, hurts a little bit. It smelled of him before I got it drenched in human blood.

The warm water feels much better than I expected as it slides down my naked body. I stare at the red strings of blood that trickle down my chest, barely lit by the faint light of the moon coming through a small window.

My muscles seem to have grown firmer since I drank Jacob’s blood. I can feel how it changed me, although it’s not very visible from the outside. I’m stronger, and my senses are sharper. He didn’t lie when he said we should continue drinking from other vampires. But I’m still angry at him. I hate the way he looked at me, as if he felt sorry for me.

Poor Killien, the third wheel. The one left behind.

Fuck him.

I open the bottle of shampoo and squirt some in my hand. I don’t like the way it smells, like chamomile. It reminds me of that fateful night. Of home, of the smell in Damien’s hair when he buried his face in my neck and cried.

Even when we were kids, he did that while our parents yelled at each other. He would cover his ears and close his eyes, and I’d hold him, hidden inside our closet or under the covers of my bed. Protecting him from the adults that were supposed to care for us, but would rather trash the entire house in an argument and then blame us for it.

I fucking hate the scent of chamomile; the idea of carrying it around with me again makes my stomach turn. But it’s better than smelling of human blood, especially for what I’m going to do next.

When I step out of the shower, I wrap a white towel around my waist and move around the apartment again. I quickly find the main bedroom, where I search through the wardrobe. Thankfully, the men’s clothing looks like it should fit. There’snothing I’d choose for myself, but it will do. I pick a pair of black skinny jeans and a grey shirt. I never wear such things.

The shoes in the wardrobe are too small for me, so I get to cleaning my classic Chucks in the kitchen sink. Fortunately, the black fabric can keep the bloodstains hidden. I just make sure to clean the soles thoroughly, and dry them properly. I stuff my dirty clothes into a plastic bag and make sure to clean up after myself. I shouldn’t leave blood for whoever lives here to find.

When I’m sure I finished cleaning, I climb out of the building through the same window I entered and head to the SUV that I parked a few blocks away. There’s no one around, just a few cars coming and going. As I look at the black Jeep, I can’t help but wonder what Damien is doing.

Stop thinking about him, idiot! He’s probably going at it with Jacob again, and he doesn’t give a fuck about what you’re doing.

I sigh as I get in the driver’s seat. The unhinged beast inside me is determined to wrap its ugly claws around my brother and nail him to my heart. I can’t escape the feelings and thoughts that run through me, even if they hurt.

I don’t want this. I don’t want to think about Damien in this way.

And yet, there’s no stopping me. I want him. I need him to need me, desperately. And I want to sink my fangs into his soft skin. I wanna do all sorts of inappropriate things to the man I raised, to the boy I grew up with, to the little brat that has commanded my entire life.

It’s wrong. So very wrong . . . I must not deviate. I won’t let it go beyond my thoughts.

Shaking my head doesn’t help, but I do it anyway. I turn on the car and drive away, towards a bar I’ve never been to before. A gay bar. I know Damien has been there a few times. I’m pretty sure it’s where he met his last boyfriend before we were turned.

Why am I thinking about him again? Fuck me.

I turn on the radio and force myself to pay attention to the music instead. The bluetooth connects to my phone, and starts playing the last song we were listening to as we drove to Jacob’s: “bad decisions” by Bad Omens.

I huff and shake my head slowly.

How fitting.