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A few moments later I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder.
I turn, looking up at Solon. He looks the same, except his eyes are much brighter. There’s not a drop of blood on him, nor anywhere else in the apartment.
“We need to leave,” he says to me, reaching down and taking my hand. “We could go through the—”
“No,” I say abruptly. “I’m not going in there if she’s in there. We go back like normal people.”
He gives me a stiff smile. “Okay.”
We leave my apartment, stepping out into the sunshine, both of us putting our sunglasses on, wincing at the light, and start the walk back to the house, a couple of vampires.
Chapter Seventeen
I am numb with grief.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in Dark Eyes for, but it feels like forever. After we walked back from my apartment, Solon took me straight down here and gave me a glass and a carafe of bourbon.
I appreciated the alcohol, but asked him to leave me alone.
He did, hesitating only slightly.
So I’m drunk. And I’m alone.
I’ve been this way for hours.
And I keep replaying everything over and over again in my head. Down here, there’s nothing to distract me from what just happened, I’m trapped in my own mind, drowning in my own guilt.
Elle is dead because of me.
That’s the truth of it.
It was my fault that Atlas found me, my fault that he killed her. I could tell he didn’t even mean to, that he acted out of panic, thinking perhaps it was a vampire walking through that door. But he was there because I was.
I shake my head, expecting the tears to keep falling, but I’m all cried out. All that’s left is my heart, waterlogged, weighing me down until I feel like I’ll never be able to move again.
My only friend.
Gone.
The last tie to normality I had.
A girl that had such a bright future ahead of her, friends and lovers and family, she had it all…she should have had it all. She should have been able to have all the things I’ll never have.
Instead, she’s dead. Gone. Her body rotting in the Black Sunshine.
I feel like the wrong girl got killed.
Eventually, I get to my feet, swaying slightly, needing to run away from this, but knowing I can’t. I can’t run away from myself, can’t run away from what’s done.
I can escape though.
Just for a bit.
And the alcohol isn’t cutting it.
I walk out of Dark Eyes, the doors closing behind me, and head up the stairs.
I don’t stop until I get to the very top floor, and knock on Solon’s door.
He opens it, eyes raking over me.
He doesn’t say anything at first, just opens the door wider, and I step inside, enveloped by the darkness of his room, then turn to face him.
He’s got on dark grey jeans, is in the midst of buttoning up a black shirt that fits him like a glove, his chest beneath so hard and powerful. With his hair in perfect black waves by his face, plus the darkness of the room, his eyes seem extra blue and mesmerizing.
“Where are you going?” I whisper.
He continues to button his shirt. “I thought I would go out and get you something to eat. Real food. You must be starving.”
“No,” I say quietly, a slight shake of my head. “I can’t eat.” I swallow, my throat raw from screaming and crying. “I can’t think. I can’t escape.”
I walk to him and place my hand over his, curl my fingers around his palm to stop him from buttoning his shirt. I stare up at him, searching his eyes as his shadowed eyes search mine.
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
He inhales sharply through his nose, a line etched between his brows, his pupils widening. “I can’t,” he eventually says, though his expression says otherwise.
“Tell me why.”
“Lenore…”
“Tell me,” I demand.
He closes his eyes, breathing in deeply. He slowly shakes his head, licks his lips. “I—”
“Don’t tell me you can’t again. Amethyst told me that you’ve slept with plenty of woman here in the city.”
“Amethyst,” he growls, looking away.
“Hey,” I say, reaching up and placing my fingers on his chin, making him look at me. This brings another flare to his nose, a curl to his lips. He doesn’t like to be directed, but I don’t fucking care. “If it’s me, then just tell me the truth. I can handle it.”
He swallows thickly, his eyes dropping to my lips. “It is you.”
“Oh.” My heart feels like Atlas stuck the blade all the way in.
I look down at my hands, curled possessively at his shirt. I don’t want to be this person, especially if I’m not what he wants.
I bring my hands away from him, feeling numb, turn to the door, needing yet another escape. Always running away.
He reaches out and grabs my elbow. “Wait,” he says sharply, his fingers digging into my skin. “Wait,” he says again, voice softer now.
