The Darkest Dream (The Darkest Trilogy) (14 page)

Even as I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, I could still feel them lingering on me.
 
It was not at all an unpleasant feeling, but a feeling I desired distance from nonetheless.

I had never been a girl who was easily sidetracked.
 
Even as a little girl, I was much more practical and headstrong than any of the other kids.
 
With time, I attributed it to the events of my youth.
 
Phe
had always been on me, insisting that I have more fun—that life wasn’t something to be taken so seriously.
 

I’d especially never taken much interest in boys.
 

The majority of the boys we knew were, at best, carefree; at worst, juvenile.
 
I had never been able to let go of enough of myself to find any of them very worthwhile.
 
Oh, I’d kissed a few boys, gone on my fair share of dates.
 
But I’d grown so disenchanted with the idea that I had pretty much given up.

And then…

I remembered bumping into Darren that night outside the diner.
 
How, even then, my body had reacted—as if telling me to pay attention.
   

I sighed, reaching out to turn on the water.
 
My head was swimming—not from the earlier excitement, but from a complete and total overload.
 

It was odd how, out of everything that I had learned recently, it was the strange bond I’d suddenly formed with another human being—

I broke off that line of thought, reminding myself that he wasn’t a human being.
 

Still, though, I could not ignore that it was there.
 
I could not ignore how, out of nowhere, I felt as if I’d suddenly found something that I had been searching for as long as I could remember.
 
Man, vampire—regardless, I was drawn to him in a way I felt I had no control over.
 

I wanted to be afraid of it.
 
I wanted to be afraid of the intensity with which I felt for him.
 

I wanted to be afraid of
him
.
 
But I couldn’t.
 

There was something about him, something undeniably familiar.
 

And I had to do everything in my power to ignore it.

The water was warm as I slipped beneath the hard spray—much harder than what I’d normally prefer, but at the moment, I didn’t mind.
 
I welcomed the distraction, concentrating on the harsh spray and the menial routines of showering.
 
I washed and conditioned my hair, allowing each to soak for several long moments before rinsing.
 
I shaved my legs—a task that I normally did without any thought whatsoever, but today I took my time, concentrating.
 

Eventually, my skin grew numb from the heat of the water and the powerful spray.
 
I emerged after several moments longer and wrapped myself tightly in a towel before prodding through the bags with little interest.
 
After choosing my outfit, I removed the toothbrush I’d found and hastily set forth on an entirely new set of distractions.
 

Perhaps it was my excessive effort to think of anything but the feelings that had suddenly roared to life within me that brought it on, as I stood in front of the mirror vigorously brushing my teeth, dressed in a very simple gray t-shirt and basic pair of jeans.
 
Random memories flashed through my mind—memories of
Phe
, of my parents, even of previous teachers and papers I’d long forgotten.
 

But then, one memory stood out sharply in contrast to the rest—not because it was so fresh, but because of what had occurred.
 
The scene from the diner, just nights ago, flashed across my mind.
 
His voice—so comforting, so warm—he could have been right beside me.


Shh
, Lucinda—it’s…”
 
And I recalled his eyes then, a horrible pain inside them as he watched me.
 
The way he said my name—not at all unfamiliar to him, as if he’d spoken it to me a thousand times.
 

The toothbrush clattered in the sink as it fell from my hand as a realization rushed over me.

He lied.
 

Darren lied.

He knew who I was.
 
And I
did
matter to him—and it wasn’t because of some sense of guilt that Demetrius had targeted me.
 
The desperation present in his voice was clear now as I thought back to it.
 

I took a deep breath, telling myself that there was some kind of explanation for this.
 
That he had, perhaps, been trying to persuade me to trust him—that he had gathered my name from my thoughts, and he had used the information to try to garner my trust.
 
Maybe I was misreading his concern.
 

But even as I thought it, I knew it wasn’t true.
 

No, I could read Darren as well as if I’d known him my entire life.

I reached out and retrieved the freshly purchased toothbrush and thoroughly rinsed it clean.
 
I rinsed my mouth out with a bit of water and glanced at myself in the mirror, taking a deep breath and attempting to put a brave front on.
 

I had to remain steady.
 
I had to put on a show of being detached.
 
And in light of his heightened abilities, I would have to be
very
convincing.
 

After several moments, I emerged from the bathroom, struck by the chilled air.
 
I hadn’t noticed how long I’d been in the bathroom,
nor
how warm it had been in there.
 
“Better?”
 
Darren’s voice startled me, and I scanned the room to find him sitting in the corner across the room.
 
I nodded in response.
 
“Does everything fit okay?”
 

“Oh, it’s fine.”
 
I assured him as I crossed the room and settled in the small armchair beside the bed.
 
“Did you call your friend?”
 
I asked, trying to remain casual.
 
He shook his head and I nodded, looking down at the floor.
 
I remained silent for a long moment, debating on how to approach the subject, before finally speaking again.
 

“Darren?”
 
I questioned, but I didn’t have to take it any further.
 

“You’re right,

 
and
I was stunned briefly, momentarily forgetting about his unusual talent.
 
“I didn’t want to lie to you, Lucinda—”

“But you did.”
 
It wasn’t a question,
nor
an accusation.
 
Simply a statement.
 
I knew he would explain himself.
 

“I’m not sure you want to know this.”
 
I rose to my feet, unable to sit still—the anticipation eating me alive.

“Just tell me.”
 
Maybe this would explain why he seemed so familiar—maybe I would be able to understand—

“When you were a girl…”
 
He paused, and I could tell he was struggling with something.
 
It was as if he was sifting through his own thoughts, choosing which would be best to lead with.
 
I could see the distance in his eyes—and I recognized it as the look he had when he was thinking about his past.

Finally, his violet eyes found mine, his sorrow on full display.

“I was there, Lucinda.”
 

“Where?”
 
But I could already feel my heart beginning to pound harder within my chest.
 

“The night you found your mother.”
 
The wind rushed from my lungs in one quick breath and I struggled with the wave of emotion that rushed over me.
 
The room swayed and I somehow managed to lower myself to the edge of the bed. After a moment, I forced myself to speak.
 

“What were you doing there?”
 
But somewhere deep down, I already knew the answer.

“It was Demetrius.”
 

I couldn’t breathe.
 
My eyes widened as I stared at the floor, my heart pounding painfully in my chest as I realized what he’d said.
 

“I’d heard…I’d heard rumors, but I hadn’t thought he’d go through with it.”
 
His words were barely registering anymore as I stared at the thinning carpet, but he continued on.
 
“When I got there, I was too late.
 
Too late for her.”
 
He was closer to me now.
 
I knew it without looking up.
 
“Too late for you.”
 
His voice was suddenly very sad.
 
“You were so young…I wished I could make it all go away.”

“Demetrius…he took my mom?”
 
Tears were pooling in my eyes, though it didn’t matter.
 
I saw nothing but memories of that night anyway.
 
The smell of the blood, the tearing at my heart, her pale skin…

I saw it all, looking for what had always been right in front of my eyes.
 
I saw the gash in her neck, much like my own.
 

A pair of violet colored eyes storming with a combination of fear and sorrow—watching me from the shadows.

“She was…she was something of an obsession of his.
 
She wasn’t afraid of him.”
 
Things were suddenly beginning to make more sense then.
 
More memories of the past washed over me—her many late night walks, her eyes shaded and knowing.
 
The way she glowed whenever she returned.

“I’m sorry.”
 
His words stunned me and I raised my eyes then, wiping angrily at the tears and scolding myself.
 
His own eyes were darkened even further.
 
“I—”

“Don’t,

 
I
cut him off, shaking my head.
 
I didn’t want to hear anymore—not now.
 
Maybe not ever.
 

My mother had known what she was getting herself into.
 
She’d always been fascinated by the unknown—and in the
end,
she had gone into it willingly.
 

“She knew.
 
She knew what he was, and she didn’t…”
 
I shook my head, my thoughts muddled.
 
Thoughts of my mother, of
Phe
…of the life I could have had with either of them.

“He’s taken everything from me.”
 

The words were very quiet as I stared unseeingly at a spot on the wall, reality settling in.
 
“He’s taken everything, Darren.
 
My mom, my best friend…my life.”
 
My entire life had changed after my mom was killed.
 
Nothing had been the same—not my dad, not my friends, not my home.
 

Nothing.
 

“I wish I could have done something, Lucinda.
 
You have no idea how badly I wish I would have been there—to keep you from this life.”
 

And I could tell by his tone that he was sincere.
 
He really wished things could have been different for me—for my family.
 

“You’re doing it now,”
 

I’d suddenly forgotten about my earlier oath to remain unconnected—distant.
 
When his eyes found mine, I saw in them the true depth of his sincerity.
 
His feelings came from a place lacking both pity and mercy.
 

He cared for me not because of what had happened to me, but because of who I’d become.
 

“You’re doing more than enough now.”
 
I told him.

“I’m putting you in more danger.”

“Apparently, I’ve always been in danger, and I’ve just never known it.”
 
I wiped angrily at the tears once more, annoyed to find they hadn’t obeyed my earlier command to leave.
 
My own mother had invited this evil into my life—
who
was to say it would have ended with her?
 

What if being her daughter was part of the draw for Demetrius?
 
What if it had nothing to do with Darren at all?
 
What if he had come for me?

I was my mother’s daughter, after all.
 
There was never any denying that.
 
Up until his dying day, my dad said he thanked his lucky stars that I’d taken after her.

I no longer had to wonder why my mother had to die—I understood now that it was her
choice
.
 
She welcomed a monster into her life, and she had paid the price for it.

At this, I raised my eyes ever so slightly, taking in the man before me—seeing no trace of the evil that simply radiated from Demetrius.
 

But I knew it was there, and the fact that I wasn’t afraid of it…I wondered if my father was right.
 
How much
had
I taken after my mother?
 

Had she always longed for this world?
 
Had she always felt it tingling inside her, calling out to her?

Maybe that was it, I thought.
 
Maybe that was what had always set me apart from everyone else—this craving for darkness, the desire to be closer to it.
 
It had obviously been a part of who my mother was.
 
Why not me, too?
 

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