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He was sitting on the couch, and he was drinking from her. Judging by the pale-white complexion of her skin, I knew that I was too late. He’d had too much. He’d drained her.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I called out.
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” he said. He pushed Juliet off of him and she rolled onto the floor. I cringed as her body hit the ground. If she survived this, she’d have bruises from the impact. It didn’t matter, though, because she wasn’t going to survive, and I was well aware that my brother wasn’t going to take the time to turn her into a vampire so she could live.
If someone had to be turned into a vamp, it needed to be done by the person who had killed them. We all knew this. It was textbook.
“What is it that you want?” I said.
“You know what I want.”
“And I told you no,” I said. “So, you’re just going to take it?”
“You’ve always been weak,” he said. “That’s your problem, you know. You’re weak. You’re pathetic!”
“I’m not weak,” I said. It took every ounce of self-control to keep from killing him right then. He stood and walked toward me slowly, carefully.
“You’ve always been weak,” he said. “Last year, when I came to Darkvale, I could have killed you. I didn’t because I thought that once you had time to nurse your wounds, you’d see reason.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
A smirk spread across his face: one that let me know he pitied me. He thought I was a fool, and maybe I was.
“The attack last year,” I said. Realization dawned on me. Norman had been more than happy to come to town for the funeral, which had been strange for him, but I’d been mourning. I hadn’t seen it. I hadn’t seen that he wasn’t actually sad about the loss of Elizabeth. He wasn’t there becaus
e he was being supportive. He’d come to the funeral because he was already in town.
“It was me,” he said cheerfully, raising his hand like I was going to be happy about this turn of events.
“How? Why?”
He’d killed my wife?
It had been him?
But why?
Why had he come to Darkvale to kill Elizabeth?
Only, I knew why. I understood why. He’d come because I was weak. I hadn’t been able to defend my wife. I hadn’t been able to protect her. Norman was a dick, but he was also wildly persuasive. There was this idea that you should be able to just turn away from your family, but until now, I’d always struggled with that. I’d known my brother sucked, but I’d still tolerated him because he was family.
Now I was man enough to see that it had cost me not one, but two women I loved.
He had to die.
“Why?” He asked. “Because you’re a pretentious asshole who thinks he’s too good for everyone else.”
Well, he wasn’t wrong.
“And Elizabeth...well, let’s just say that she wasn’t the delicate flower you always pretended that she was.”
“She was fierce,” I said. “But she was loyal.”
“Until her death,” he agreed. “Her and that asshole who protected her. What was his name? Mark? Mateo?”
“Matt,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Ah, yes, Matt,” Norman said. “Matt was fun to kill, too. You know, it’s funny, I always thought he was a human. Imagine my surprise when I staked him, and he turned to dust just the same as Elizabeth did.”
