Page 59 of Before We Burn

“This means that Everett had a brother named Saxon, who I’m guessing was killed. That’s the fate that brought Everett here with us. He’s the last living relative of the oldest vampire in the world.”

Benny’s eyes widen, and he rubs his jaw harshly. “We have to tell him. Maybe he can tell us who it was? That can be a start. All of this is connected somehow. The attack on the school, Bunny⁠—”

Movement catches my attention in the darkest corner of the room. I instantly turn and there, with pitch black eyes, stands Bunny. She looks…different. Her vibrant brown skin seems grey and mute, the veins under her eyes lifted and pulsing. I feel her—her desire to know, to help. Her desire for family. Her appearance gradually shifts, and the bouncy happy Bunny appears.

“It's not the time to tell either of them. Marz can’t know who Everett is. Not yet. Everett needs to remember himself. If you force it, you will regret the outcome it brings.” Her eyes dart from me to Benny, a small smile on her face. “Let desire win for once here.” Her eyes are heavy on me, almost accusatory, but I’m not influencing Benny’s desires. I want to tell her that, but before I can, she steps back and vanishes.

We stand in silence for a moment, Bunny’s words sticking with me. I’m always so focused on the desires of others, why can’t I let my own win this time?

“Thank you.” The words come out rushed. “I’ve never shared that memory with anyone else. It felt nice to say it out loud.”

Benny turns his attention back to me, the situation with Bunny floating into the back of my mind.

He smiles as he takes another step forward, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. His skin is so warm, soft, and gentle. My breath hitches, and I know he noticed it.

“You can share whatever you need with me, Constantine. Our memories can feel like prisons. Saying them out loud gives them a place to escape to.”

I was freely gazing at him as he spoke. Everything about him feels soft and pure, like he’s the one that holds all the power. I have always protected myself, but I feel like Benny can and will protect me.

“Benny…” My voice is filled with lust.

Before I can think of my next words, his mouth is on mine in a vigorous attempt to steal my soul. We work against each other, a symphony of soft moans filling the air. His hand grips the back of my hair in a gentle-yet-possessive way, and the area between my legs weeps with need. My arousal soaks my panties and the leggings I’m wearing.

I move my hands down his body, his hard muscular chest a clear distinction from his softer midsection, and find that damned towel knot. I rip at it, pushing the towel to the floor to expose Benny’s long, thick length ready to stretch me into oblivion.

I grip him hard, and suddenly he grabs my hands, pushing me against the wall with a crash, his lips hovering over mine as he speaks.

“You’re not going to touch me, Constantine. I don’t want you to even think about my pleasure. I am going to get my fill of it once I make you come over…and over…and over again. On my tongue, my fingers, on my dick. That will be more than enough pleasure for me. Let me please you, Connie.” He says the nickname mockingly as his hands travel down the front of my pants and into my panties.

He rubs hard and slow on my sensitive bundle of nerves, a hum of approval sounding through him and into me. I gasp, trying to reach for his lips again, but he shakes his head gently as he watches me intensely. His fingers speed up, and my release is right there. I stand on my tiptoes, my entire body clenching. Our eyes lock onto each other as my mouth falls open and my body tenses in shock.

“Benny. Oh my— Benny.” I’m drowning in a pool of greens, browns, and blues. Stars the color of Benny’s eyes cloud my vision, but he doesn’t offer any time to recover. He rips the clothes from my body in one motion as his lips trail tender kisses starting at the top of my head. He moves down slowly, pausing at my mouth to speak to me.

“You are the most beautiful person in this world. I see past the wall, Constantine. I see you.”

He doesn’t allow me time to respond. He kisses me gently before moving down the rest of my body until he’s on his knees in front of me—using his tongue in a way that has me convinced he’s my soul tie.

24

WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER

MARZANA

Ipace in a dark room that smells like mold and mildew. Dust covers everything, and rats come out randomly for what feels like days. Nadiya is completely unbothered, which just makes me angrier. She brought me here—she was the one who was supposedly showing me something—and bit my neck hard enough I thought I would pass out. But there is nothing here—just broken pictures of memories that no longer belong to me.

It’s sad to see the house that would’ve been my home crumbled and broken like this. The walls on the east side of the house have begun to slant and sink, the stairs have completely collapsed, and belongings have been thrown around like someone ransacked the place. I stop at a small desk that houses a lone picture frame. It’s of a woman with light brown skin, freckles, and reddish brown hair with piercing green eyes—like mine. She was squatting down next to a child who wore a bright smile, two braided pigtails with bubbles tied at the tops of them. They both shared the same eyes; they both looked so happy.

I gently rub my fingers over the image of the little girl, ice cream covering her mouth while she holds the cone tightly in her hand. Things before the war were so different—at least the pieces of it I remember from my early years as a vampire.

I turn to look at Nadiya who has been watching me carefully. I hold up the picture and gently wave it in the air.

“She looks a lot like you.” I sound defeated.

Nadiya doesn’t say anything about it if she notices, just nods and says, “I hope so. She’s my great, great niece. Unlike you, my parents went off and had more children after me. I guess you can fill the grief of losing a child as long as you can have another one.” Her words are harsh, but I understand her pain. There is something so malicious about carrying on with your life when your child was used as a tool—a sacrifice.

She stands and stretches quickly before plopping down on the bed, forcing dust into the air. She doesn’t cough or swat it away, instead she focuses on the desk I’m standing next to. I put the photo face down—seeing the picture is just a bit too much for me right now. I notice a small touch projector. It’s old and broken, but the parts would be worth a fortune to someone who creates or fixes electronics.

I take a step back, my emotions climbing so rapidly I’m on the verge of a complete spiral. I start to think of all of the ways I could make it out of here without Nadiya following me.