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But it was the right thing to say, the true thing, no matter how terrifying it is to hear Annie sigh and agree, “Yes, everything. Everything, everything,” as we begin to move.
We find our rhythm like we’ve been together a hundred thousand times, like she’s been with me every lonely night since I was turned. Her body clutches me tight, and I stroke into her with a reverence that I feel with every cell in my body. Even as we move faster, writhing against each other, bucking and bearing down and chasing the bliss that’s so close it’s become fire licking at our heels, the awe I feel in her presence is still there.
She is beautiful and perfect and mine and I am hers.
And I am at peace, finally, after over two centuries of almost unrelenting pain, Annie comes on my cock, I spill myself inside her sweet body, and I am…drowning in beauty. It’s so good, so heartbreakingly beautiful, that afterwards I can’t think of a thing to say. All I can do is pull her closer, wrap the quilt around us and kiss her forehead.
She cuddles close, resting her head on my chest. In seconds, she’s asleep.
I’m equally wrung out by the events of the evening, but I hold on for a few more minutes, memorizing the perfect way she fits in my arms before I follow her into the dark, not wanting to leave her alone, even in sleep.
* * *
A little after midnight, the call finally comes from Dr. Price, apologizing for the delay.
As anticipated, he was busy delivering a baby, but promises to arrive within the hour.
Glancing at Annie, asleep on the couch, her cheeks flushed pink and a small smile curving her lips, I assure him, “That won’t be necessary. She’s much improved and sleeping peacefully.”
Price sighs, clearly relieved to skip the trip out to the swamp. “Wonderful. I’ll get Laura settled in my basement and turn in myself, then. The snow’s still coming down, but it should be safe for her to walk home tomorrow. I doubt much of this will stick on the roads, seeing as it’s been so warm these past few weeks.”
I thank him and am about to end the call when he adds in a slightly sharper tone, “Should I send someone out in the morning to escort Miss Wonderfully home? I may worry too much, but there are perils in the swamp, and since you won’t be able to help her home yourself…”
It isn’t an accusation, simply a fact. I’m a vampire and therefore cannot leave the house during the day. But the words hit so much harder than a cold, impersonal truth. They hit like the first whiff of charred flesh as I ran through the forest on my second night as a vampire, turning my stomach and making my heart lurch in my chest.
I can’t make sure Annie gets home safe any more than I could keep my family safe from the people who murdered them.
Nothing has changed. I am still what I am, who I am. I’m still a monster who has no business with any woman, let alone a gentle soul like Annie. I don’t deserve her goodness or her comfort and I sure as hell don’t deserve the pleasure I found in her arms tonight.
That I forgot that, even for a few hours, is repulsive. Sickening. Foul in a way I thought I’d left behind centuries ago, the night I learned just how high a price I would pay for my sins.
Bile and blood rising in my throat, I quickly write Annie a note:
This was a mistake.
One that won’t happen again.
Leave and don’t come back.
Forget this night ever happened.
Forget me. Completely.
Or you’ll regret it.
-B
I leave the missive on the coffee table beside her then head to the cellar, locking the door behind me. Down in the damp chill, I pull up the plywood in one corner and burrow into the cool earth, tunneling with my bare hands until I’m deep enough for the wetness of the swamp to seep into the hollow near my feet. I reach down, gathering some of the thick mud and packing it into my ears, blocking out the last bit of sound still penetrating this deep underground.
Then I curl into a miserable ball and marinate in my self-hatred for a very, very long time.
So long I don’t hear Annie leave the next morning or Laura arrive. So long the people who are stupid enough to care for me surely begin to worry. But I remain in my muddy wallow, too selfish to be bothered to put their minds at ease.
I’m a wretched excuse for a man, and always will be.
Annie is better off without me.
And as for the memories of her that plague me every waking and sleeping hour, making me ache to touch her again…well, that’s no less than I deserve. I deserve this torment and so much more.
