Authors: Samantha Towle
I look at him bewildered. “I didn’t feel forced to come back.”
“Yeah, sure you didn’t,” his reply is blunt.
I’m not even going to argue the toss with him. He’ll believe what he wants to believe irrespective of what I say.
Trying to ward off the chill his steady cold gaze is giving me, I hug myself, and say, “Matthias found me.”
“What?” His eyes flare in surprise and he stands bolt upright, scanning the area like he expects Matthias to jump out on us any second now.
I don’t know what he was expecting me to say, but obviously that wasn’t it. Looks like I’ve got his attention for now though, at least.
“You’re safe. Everyone is safe,” I placate. “I wouldn’t have come back if it wasn’t. It’s fine, really.”
“Fine how?” His brow furrows and he looks suspiciously at me.
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated?” he echoes.
I take a deep breath. “When I first met him – Matthias - in Italy a week ago, I didn’t know who he really was.”
“You were in Italy?” he says.
“Yes. Why?”
“No reason. It was just one of my many stop offs in the chase Alex around the world jaunt.” There’s no humour in his voice.
A pain sears, deep into my chest. I look down at my feet.
“Jack said you’d been looking for me, for all this time.” I glance at him. “I’m sorry.”
He leans back against the stable and folds his arms over his chest, casting his gaze to the floor. “It doesn’t matter.”
He shrugs.
What doesn’t matter – me or the search?
I want to ask.
I don’t, obviously.
“How did the Original find you?”
I swallow past the dryness. Not because I’m afraid to answer, but because I’m back to struggling to get past the fact that he’s been searching for me, for all this time. Does it mean he cares about me, or is it just because it’s who he is? Someone who has to save everyone. Or just because his stubborn pride wouldn’t let him stop searching?
Judging from the way he’s currently behaving, I’ll have to go for the latter.
Shoving my feelings aside I answer his question. “He saved me from a vampire who attacked me when I was hunting one night in the forest. He told me his name was Zeff. That he was a vampire hunter.”
Nathan laughs again. It’s hollow. Patronising. And really starting to wind me up, like only he can.
Ignoring him, I continue, “My passport got ruined in the attack and he said he could get me a new one.”
I don’t tell him the truth that Zeff ruined it. It’s all too complicated enough as it is.
“And you trusted him? A complete stranger?”
“You were once a stranger and I trusted you.”
He sighs, looking away from me and rakes his fingers over his short hair, scratching his scalp. I still can’t believe he cut his hair off.
“How did you not know who he was? You must have sensed he was a Vârcolac. I mean this one of the Originals I’m talking about here.” His tone is condescending.
“He has abilities,” I respond sharply. “His grandmother wasn’t just a werewolf, she was also a witch. He and Isaiah both have the power. He can cast spells … one that conceals his true identity. He can make a supernatural being believe he’s human.”
Caution and deliberation pass over his visage.
“Explains how they’ve both stayed hidden for so long I suppose,” he says, shrugging. Then his eyes snap up at me, like something significant has just dawned. “So just exactly why was the Original helping you get a new passport? Why wasn’t he taking you back to Isaiah and getting started on their breeding programme?”
He’s such a callous bastard at times.
Shaking my head, I gulp down and work my hands together nervously. “I don’t understand it fully myself.”
‘
I love you.’
Zeff words keep echoing, haunting my mind.
“He pretended to be someone else … Zeff. That he was a vampire hunter. That vampire’s had killed his parents. But he never hurt me not once … “ I feel like I’m just now myself sorting through the sequence of events in my head. “He helped me – a lot.” I nervously pull at the hem on my dress. “He trained me how to fight. How to defend myself. He saved me – twice, from vampires. He seemed like a good guy.”
A strange expression crosses over Nathan’s face, freezing in place and hardening his features.
“Is there something I don’t know?”
I stop fidgeting. “Like what?”
A flicker of emotion washes his features as it comes to light in his eyes. “Did something
happen
with him?”
Shit. I know where this is going.
“Such as?” I keep my tone as short.
“Have you had sex with him?”
“No!” I say aghast.
He gives me a look. “Yeah, sure you haven’t.”
He’s dismissing me. It burns me to the core.
“You know, you really should have said last night before you climbed into my bed that you’d been in his. It would have changed things for sure,” he says.
“I haven’t had sex with him!”
“Kissed him?”
“No!”
Almost, nearly.
He gives me another disbelieving look.
I hate the way it makes me feel.
Cheap, dirty, a liar. And that’s because he’s closer to the truth than I would care to admit right now. I might not have kissed Zeff, but at one point I wanted to. And that’s just as bad. But Nathan would never understand if I told him. I would only end up pushing him further away than he already is.
“So you’re telling me the Original just decided to take care of you – get you a new passport, turn you into some – fighting machine, and then let you go – just like that, out of the goodness of his heart?”
“There’s more to it than just that. You’re oversimplifying things.”
“Forgive me.”
I hate it when he’s sarcastic. I firhink look.
There are millions of things about the whole situation that I don’t even understand. Not fully. One thing more than others. Zeff telling me he loves me.
But I also don’t think the best idea is to tell Nathan that Zeff told me he’s in love with me. That’d be just adding fuel to his already well lit fire. He already thinks I’ve had sex with Zeff, me telling him that would only cement his assumption. I know what he’s like. And in the grand scheme of things it’s irrelevant anyway, because I don’t have any feelings for Zeff.
“Look, Nathan, I don’t understand much of what happened myself. All I do know is he said he wanted to help me – help keep me safe.” Turning to the side, not wanting to see his face when I tell him this. I wrap my arms around my chest and swallow down. “And not just from Isaiah. He’s not my only problem now.” Deep breath. “Elijah knows I exist. And before you ask – no, I don’t know how he knows, and no, he doesn’t know where I am.”
I’m feeling pretty pissed off now.
“Are you sure?”
I cast a glance in his direction. “I think if he did we’d know about it by now – don’t you?”
He rubs his face with his hand and lets out a sigh.
“I know I made a mistake by coming back here, Nathan.” My voice is quiet. “And I’m sorry for that. But as far as Elijah knows, I am still in Italy.”
Well, I hope he does.
His brow furrows. “I never said you’d made a mistake coming here.”
“You didn’t have to.” I look away.
I hear the light sigh he lets out. “Does the Original know you came back here?”
I shake my head, holding back the tears eager to show. “No. He doesn’t know anything about you. I never talked about
you
, specifically.”
Then I feel the shift in the air again. A sudden charge of anger comes out from him. I’ve no idea what’s kicked him off, but I’m pretty sure it’s because of something I just said.
“So you’re telling me the Original just let you go.” His voice is hard again, angry. “Just like that. With nothing owing, no come back whatsoever, nothing from you in return. Just a passport and a see you later.” He’s obviously unwilling to let it go.
And now, I’m left wondering if it’s because he’s jealous.
I stare steely back, “That’s what I’m telling you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
It hurts.
The hurt quickly shifts to anger. “You’re angry with me because I left you in that hotel room in Scotland – I get that Nathan – honestly I get
that
. But that doesn’t give you give “You’the right to call me a liar! I have only slept with you!
You
– and no one else since that night! You can’t just treat me this way – have sex with me, ignore me, then accuse me of lying about having sex with Zeff, basically being a complete and utter bastard to me!”
His eyes ignite. Like a match has just been struck behind them. And God they are on fire, practically spitting out flames. He drops his folded arms and stands tall.
“But you can have sex with me and then disappear for six months without so much as a word.”
Ahh. Shit.
“B-but t-that was different.” I can’t control the stammer.
“Really? How so?” There’s a crass irony in his voice which is unmistakable.
“I was trying to protect you by leaving. I thought I was doing the right thing – I didn’t want to leave you and I’ve missed you for every single second I’ve been away.”
I lay my heart out to him without meaning to.
He doesn’t say a thing. So I look at face, his eyes, searching for something, anything to tell me there are still some feelings for me buried deep down inside of him.
I see nothing.
Then something inside me shatters. And I no longer care if I sound weak. “I know that’s why you had sex with me before – for revenge. You wanted to hurt me. It worked. Trust me, I’m hurt.”
My voice wobbles in time with my bottom lip.
He visibly flinches. “Is that what you think of me? That I’d have sex with you to hurt you.”
“Isn’t that exactly what you’re did?!” I cry at him.
He shakes his head, disappointed. “You obviously don’t know me as well as I thought you did.”
He starts to walk away from me.
“Arghhh!” I scream, clutching my head. “You’re fucking impossible – you will never talk to me reasonably – ever!”
He stops, turning abruptly, and marches back to me. His face is so angry, he is absolutely steaming. He stops an arm’s reach away.
The last time I saw him this angry, a television took the brunt of it. I have to stop myself from stepping back.
“You wanna talk, Alex – fine let’s talk. Let’s talk about how I gave everything up, left right after my brother died, left my family behind, all to keep you safe, and you just fucked off! Disappeared in the middle of the night without a word! And I don’t see you for six months – six fucking months! And then you turn up because you’ve been found by an Original – who happens to be actually a nice guy.”
He air quotes the nice guy. There’s not a shred of humour there.
“That he’s been helping you – that you’ve spent a week in Italy with him for fucks sabefo’re dke, all the while I’ve been searching the world for you like a fucking idiot! And then you have the blatant cheek to accuse me of using you! FUCK!” he roars out, gripping his head with his hands, taking in a hard breath, pacing around before me.
Then he suddenly stops. Turned away from me. He covers his face with his hands. I can hear his ragged breaths. Then he moves his hands away and turns to face me. His eyes look so sad.
It cripples me to see.
“We had sex, Alex. I told you I was in love with you ... and … you just left.”
Something like pure hard emotion crackles in the air between us.
“I–” my mouth is open but I’m struggling to find any words to follow through with.
I know he told me he loved me, but he didn’t really mean it. Well, I didn’t think he did. Now I kind of do. Fuck.
I know I meant it when I said it to him. But honestly I really didn’t think he did. We were having sex, he’d been drinking, there was a lot of emotion being thrown around. I thought he’d said it in the heat of the moment – I wanted to believe – but I couldn’t. If I had, then I would never have left.
“I know you told me you loved me.” My voice is weak and apologetic. “But I didn’t think you actually meant it.”
I know it’s the wrong thing to say the instant the words are out of my mouth. But it’s too late to take back.
He laughs, hard. His eyes narrow onto mine and I see something flicker behind them. Pain, I realise. And I couldn’t feel any worse if I tried.
“So you didn’t mean it?”
“What?”
“That you loved me, Alex. When you told me you loved me, you’re saying you didn’t mean it?”