Page 90 of Only Fangs

As fast as I can.

Lungs burning as I force my legs to move faster.

I won’t look behind me.

I won’t look to see how close they are.

Chapter 47

Ari

Clara comes to find me an hour later, using the secret corridors and hidden passages, tumbling into the room I’ve been sequestered into. Apparently this is where I’ll stay until the wedding.

“They didn’t catch him,” she says quickly as she tries to break her fall.

“What?” I ask. I heard her the first time but I don’t trust myself to believe until she repeats it a few more times.

“He was so fast. The Gallaghers are so pissed.” She says it with so much glee I can’t help but break into a smile.

“He really made it?”

“Your boy was like Usain Bolt.”

“You absolutely, one hundred percent, promise me that he’s OK.”

“Of course.” She reaches out to touch my cheek but then pulls her hand back, tucking it into the pocket of her dress.”

“What happened?” I ask, narrowing my eyes as I stare at the folds of her skirt.

“Nothing.”

But she says it too quickly. “Tell me,” I demand.

She pulls her hand back out. “It’s really nothing.”

Nothing is a three inch gash across her palm, her blood still pooling as the skin tries to knit back together. “How did you get this?” I ask, as I pull her towards the basin in the corner of the room and start to wash it under the cold tap.

She hisses as the water hits the broken skin. “Jesus, Ari.”

“You know I have to clean it.” I’m almost brusque. “Now tell me.”

“I’d stolen his car keys so I made sure the engine was already running when he got to it,” she says quietly. “But they were still so fast, the Gallaghers, and so I slowed them down a little.” She says it like it was nothing at all. Like she was just doing what anyone else would have done in the situation.

“You put yourself between a hunting vamp and their prey?”

She shrugs.

“You could have been killed.”

Now, I know that we are considered immortal. And we are in terms of we don’t age beyond a certain point and we’re pretty much immune to all the shit that can kill a human, like typhoid and stuff. But we can get hurt. Normally we can avoid it, move fast enough to get the fuck out of the way of a threat. But an angry vampire with a thirst on for fresh human blood? Not a chance. It’s like you getting hit by a runaway truck.

“It’s not that bad,” Clara says, pulling her hand from the water to inspect the cut.

I take a closer look myself. She’s lucky. It’ll heal alright on its own. I hold her hand for a few more moments and then lift my eyes to meet hers. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“You love him,” she replies and her face softens into a smile. “Of course I would help him.”

“Your father made me break his heart,” I whisper softly. I’m trying not to remember all the things I said to him, but I can’t stop the voices in my head. You are just a human. A mortal. Nothing more than a toy to be played with.