Wednesday was bitch day...that was the nicest way I could frame it. I woke up mad. I put on the shortest skirt I owned and the reddest, clingiest top. I angrily ripped through my hair with a flat brush and tossed it all up into a high ponytail. I drove ten miles over the speed limit and mentally dared a cop to pull me over-Californians did love a good car chase and in the mood I was in, they'd get quite a show.
I yelled-actually yelled-at Clarice when she asked me to recopy a report because it wasn't lined up just right. I might have yelled something about where she could shove said report. Tracey ducked down behind her wall and avoided me...which was good. I couldn't deal with any Hot Ben stories today. I snapped at the men eyeing my purposely clingy shirt to "take a photo, it would last longer". I bit off the head of the poor barista, who didn't quite get my afternoon drink hot enough. And then I yelled at some jerk on the street that was walking in front of me, because he wasn't moving fast enough. See...bitch.
Sometime throughout the day, my sister must have called Tracey because that evening, they both showed up at my house and dragged me, nearly kicking and screaming, to a local bar. After threatening a couple patrons who were whispering about my sister, Tracey and Ashley started pouring vodka after vodka down my throat. I stopped snapping at people around four or five drinks and started loving on several of the burlier men in the room. By seven drinks, I was happily dancing with a few. By nine drinks I was praying to the porcelain God and cursing my friends and family.
Which brought me to Thursday...remorse day. With a throbbing head and a tilting stomach, I dressed in a long, shapeless skirt and a long, shapeless blouse. I pulled my hair up as much as I could and sullenly made my way out into the too bright, early morning sun. Wearing sunglasses to my chair, I apologized over and over to Clarice and offered to take in her dry-cleaning to make up for it. She seemed rather pleased with how I was dressed, and how genuinely sorry I seemed, and took me up on my offer.
Tracey smiled down on me from her side of the wall and I cringed, remembering that at some point last night, Hot Ben had joined us and I may have...grinded on him on the dance floor. I threw her an apology and she laughed, loudly, and said she was just happy I had fun. I may have had fun last night, but in the dehydrated state I was in now, fun was the least of the adjectives I'd use to describe my day. After handling Clarice's dry-cleaning, and silently cursing at myself for doing it, I meandered home and made nice with a quart of Ben and Jerry's.
Friday arrived at long last and with it came...longing. I missed him. I missed his scent. I missed his smile. I missed his stubble. I missed his dress shirts and slacks, and the shoes that he always matched his belt to. I missed his espressos. I missed his dog. I missed the quiet conversations. I missed the walks in the park. I missed his touch. I missed his kiss. I missed...everything.
I don't remember the day. I'm not even sure if I went to work. All I remember was the gnawing ache of loneliness, ripping my insides apart. I couldn't inhale completely, it hurt. I couldn't exhale completely, that hurt too. This was when I realized what that last kiss had done to me. Somehow, that one magnificent kiss in his car had inextricably bound me to him. I had felt a connection in that moment that I'd never felt with another human being, and while his humanity was now in question, what with his human side dying and his vampire side taking over, one thing was not in question-I still felt connected to him, more than I'd ever felt before, more than I could imagine ever feeling again. It scared me...it thrilled me.
Halina had told me once that Teren had "claimed" me. At the time, I'd been a little offended, but now I understood. Now surprisingly, I felt the same. I felt a claim on him and I knew, with everything inside me, that I would see this through with him. Whatever was to come, we would face it united. That's the only way I could see my life unfolding now-wrapped protectively in his arms, whether they were warm and alive or cold as the grave.
I think I broke every traffic law there was getting to his house. I walked up his steps and lightly knocked on his door, wondering what to say to the man I'd avoided for days. Nervousness tickled my stomach as I waited the two seconds for the door to swing open, and then I saw him, and my nerves evaporated. He was stunning, better than I remembered-jet-black hair, shiny in the sunlight, strong, stubbly jaw, maybe a touch longer than he usually kept it, full lips dropped open in surprise at my arrival, and the loveliest shade of pale, but tired, blue eyes, that were regarding me with a mixed expression of hope and sadness.
It turned out that I hadn't needed to worry about what to say. It turned out that my body had fully intended on doing all the talking for me. I greeted him with my lips firmly latching on to his, one of my legs wrapping around his slacks and my hands running up his impressive chest. His answer to my body's question was lightning-quick as he pulled me inside, slammed shut the door, and streaked us both upstairs to his bed.
After that...he took his sweet time.
Chapter 6 - We Make Up
I woke up in a familiar bed with familiar, warm arms around me and a familiar, furry lump sleeping at my feet. I breathed in deep, now that I could again. I snuggled back into the warm, bare chest behind me. The arms holding me automatically tightened as he drew me in. It was the warmest, safest feeling that I'd ever had, and I couldn't quite believe that I'd put myself through nearly a week of misery by denying myself his presence. Of course I would stay with him through his transformation. What would my life be without him?
He nuzzled my hair as he inhaled deeply himself. "You smell so good," he murmured.
"Nearly edible?" I muttered back, as I turned in his embrace to gaze at him.
He raised his head to look at me, his eyes filled with a new emotion, a happy, peaceful one. He ran a finger down my cheek and then along the artery in my neck. "Delicious." He smiled softly.
I frowned. "Things are going to change."
He relaxed back on an elbow as he looked down on me. I scooted over to my back and stroked his arm lying across my stomach. "Yes," he said simply.
"When will you die?" I couldn't even say the word louder than a whisper, but he heard me just fine.
He shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose it could be any day."
I nodded and placed my hand on his chest, to feel the pulsating life beneath his skin. "I'll miss this."
He placed his hand over mine and we both felt his doomed heart beating. "I will too."
I looked up to his face as that registered with me. He was dying, and he didn't want to. I was so selfish-worrying all this time about how it would affect me that I hadn't even considered how he felt about it. Concern for him filled me. "Will it hurt?"
He stroked my fingers on his chest and looked down at the pillow. He frowned. "No one will give me a clear answer on that. They just keep saying 'it's uncomfortable' or 'you'll be fine.'" He looked back to me and a trace of fear was in his eyes. "I'm assuming that's a yes, it's going to hurt like hell."
I reached up to stroke his face. "Are you scared?"
Teren closed his eyes briefly at my touch and then reopened them. "Yes," he whispered. He looked at the pillow again, and I ran my hand back down to his chest. My chest tightened in sympathy. "I know I shouldn't be. I know that I'll be fine." Returning his eyes to me, he searched my face. "But, I've only ever been human. This is what I know." He patted his chest, his heart, and then he sighed. "I will miss feeling my heart beat. I will miss coffee. I will really miss food. I will miss...feeling normal."
I pulled him to me for a tender kiss. "I'm so sorry, Teren."
We warmly kissed for a few moments and then he pulled back. Gazing at me in adoration, he brushed some hair off my forehead. "Don't be. I've known this was my legacy my whole life. I've had plenty of time to prepare myself."
"It will still be an adjustment for you." I cocked my head to the side as I studied him. "You're always going to look like this, aren't you?"
He smiled. "Yes."
I frowned. "How am I going to explain that to my family?" I looked down at his chest. "And we'll never be able to eat with them." I looked back up to his eyes. "Oh...we'll never be able to have dinner together."
"Sure we will. I'll still cook for you." He grinned and sat further back on his elbow. "I'll just have to start making you pork dishes. I think I'd starve, just living on chickens."
I had the odd thought of him draining a pig in the kitchen and couldn't stop the laugh. He laughed with me and then we kissed some more. Man, I'd missed that. After a moment, he pulled away again. "Things will change, Emma...but one thing, will not."
"What?"
"I'll still love you."
I could only stare in silence at the amazing, doomed man beside me. Warmth and emotion flooded my body and I blinked to keep back those darn tears. "I love you too." I ran my hand back through his dark hair and pulled his lips to mine again. I savored the heat of that kiss as our mouths moved together perfectly. "I'm going to miss your warmth," I muttered against the stubbly softness of him. "What else will change?"
He pulled back and thought for a moment. "Well, I'll be even stronger and faster. I won't age and I'll heal fast. My sense of smell will be even more acute. I'll be more aware of blood. I'll be..."
"Hungrier?" I asked hesitantly.
"Thirstier." He gave me a very pointed look as I absorbed that. I suppose if all he existed on was blood, he would need it more often and in larger quantities. I could see that being a problem, if he were ever really, really hungry-regardless of what Alanna told me about her and her husband.
"Will it be a difficult for you...being around me?"
"No, of course not. I wouldn't let this continue if I thought that. I'd never hurt you, Emma. I'm not going to turn into some crazed monster. I'll still be me." He hesitated and I could see a debate in his eyes.
"Just tell me. I don't like secrets."
He lay back on the pillows and gazed at the ceiling. I propped up on an elbow so I could see him better. He seemed to not be sure how to word what he was thinking about. I gave him another moment to reflect while I drew a circle on his bare chest.
Finally he spoke, although he still didn't look at me. "My mother may have downplayed the thirst." He looked over to meet my curious eyes. "She didn't want to scare you, they are still hoping for that grandchild, and my father really isn't in any danger from her, but the blood is more intoxicating than she led you to believe. And once I change, that desire will get worse. You'll be...tempting to me."
"I'll be food." He nodded solemnly. "Could you feed on me without killing me?" I surprised myself, both by asking him that and by being calm when I asked it.
He sat up on both elbows and gazed at me intensely. "Yes. I can sense how much is too much. I would never take more than your body could handle. I would never bring you harm."
I sat up a bit more as I regarded him with narrowed eyes. "How can you be sure of that? How do you know you can control yourself? You'll be more vampiric, maybe you just won't care?"
He shifted his body and brought a hand to my cheek. "My feelings won't change. I'll always care." His thumb tenderly stroked my cheek. "How do you know you can take one small bite of the sweetest dessert you've ever tasted and be satisfied?"