Bring Me to Life (3 page)

His voice boomed out in a roar. “Do you have a death wish? You have to live for the next week.”

She skidded to a stop in front of him. Her tiny body trembled as she cowered back, but there was steel in her voice. “After that, I’m free to die however I want?”

“I cannot hurt you,” he snapped. “Do not cower away from me.”

Her back snapped straight and her chin lifted. “Why not? If you could kill me you would. Isn’t it a little stupid not to be afraid of—whatever you are—when you could actually kill me. I’m just supposed to believe out of hand that you’re not going to kill me?” Her teeth ground together as she glared up at him. “I’ll do whatever you tell me I have to do, okay? Run away from whatever danger is after me this time, stay and fight it or put my head on a chopping block for you to hack it off.” She dragged in a breath. Her tone was hysterical and her body shook viciously. “Why?” she screamed at him. “Why aren’t you here to kill me?”

Vincent stared down at her. Where she’d been bright before, feminine colors with ribbons and flowers, now she was too-tight black and bloodred with harsh black eyeliner and spiked dog-collar Goth. For the last two centuries he wondered about why she’d killed him, and what secret she’d been keeping from him. He still didn’t know the answers, but the girl he remembered was nowhere to be found in the woman standing before him. It scared him. On a deep level he hadn’t been aware existed before, this tiny replica of his Bryna scared the ever-loving hell out of him. He’d thought there’d have been something left of the girl he knew, but he stared down at a stranger. A stranger who dangerously teetered on the edge. He set his jaw and shoved back every bit of the feeling and raw emotion wanting to tumble out. “Why did you kill a man you said you loved?”

She turned her head and her shoulders rounded. “Because it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You always were a horrible liar.” The raw rage he was feeling dripped from his words.
What the hell?
That had been the exact answer he’d expected from her, but, damn the woman, she was lying to him. His eyes started to tick. “Why did you kill him?”

*

Bryna stepped back at the savage sound of his voice. This was the second time he said something that made her believe this man knew her, even if she didn’t know him. “Who the hell are you? Let me see your face.”

“Who I am and my face do not concern you. Answer the question. I won’t ask it again.”

She laughed then. A short, hysterical sound. “Or what? You’ll kill me? You already said you can’t. More is the pity.”

“There are worse things than death,” he snapped.

She snorted. “Yeah, and I bet you can’t do any of those either, unless you plan on guilting me to death. Which, by the way, you’re really good at.”

His tone went disgusted. “What happened to you? Vincent would have died for you—he died because of you. I find it hard to believe he was stupid enough to fall for whatever act you handed him when you couldn’t lie to save your own life.”

Her eyes snapped to his face. “You know him?”

“You could say that.”

They stood there staring at each other as the minutes stretched out before she folded her arms over her chest and let out a pathetic sound that was supposed to be a laugh. “Yeah, it seems like I screwed up everything again. Look, I’ve been up for twenty-four hours. If you don’t mind, can we go sleep somewhere? Then I have things to do in the morning.”

She could almost feel his eyes moving over her before he shrugged. “Wherever you want to go. I always had been a slave to your whims.”

“Would you stop that? Stop talking to me like you know me.” He was really starting to freak her out. That wasn’t the easiest thing to do these days—or the safest.

“Oh, but I do know you. I know you better than you know yourself—or I did.”

“No,” she bit out. “I’d remember a bastard like you.” Her brow arched up. “On second thought, I probably wouldn’t considering how many of them there have been in my life.”

“Whored yourself out, did you?”

Her mouth snapped shut. Her face crumpled, and she turned her head as tears streaked down her face. “You know what,” she said as she felt the fight drain out of her. “Why don’t we skip the Save Bryna’s Life Campaign. It’s a little late for that.”

*

Vincent watched her walk away from him. He felt like he’d just been slapped in the face, and maybe he deserved it for the last remark. But goddamn it, she was the one who’d killed
him
. Her feelings shouldn’t come into this at all. “It’s not a campaign,” he said as he followed her to her car.

“I didn’t ask for it.” She unlocked the door and jerked the door open. “Back off,” she said softly. “My temper can be a scary thing, and I’m tired and confused and not really feeling very friendly at the moment. Go sleep somewhere. You weren’t supposed to come for me until the morning.”

“There are vampires out there now.” His tone went firm. Young and stupid didn’t even begin to describe him at the age he died, but he was damn sure he’d known Bryna. Maybe he really hadn’t. She had caused his death.

“Right,” she muttered. “And I’m supposed to live until next week before they are allowed to turn me into a Bryna snack. Great. My last week on Earth and I get to spend it with super guilt man.” She turned around and glared up at him. “Look, I never meant for Vincent to die. So if you know him on the other side or wherever you came from, tell him I’m sorry. It should have been me.” Her voice went small. “Seriously, I am about to freak out, and that’s not good. People die when I get upset. Okay? I don’t know you, and I really don’t want you getting hurt, so just leave me alone.” She got into the back seat and slammed the door shut.

Vincent stood there staring at her as she shifted this way and that before she curled into a tiny ball on the back seat and cried. What the hell did that mean? People died when she was upset? He didn’t like this one bit. A thought entered into his head that hadn’t come at all in his two hundred and eighteen years of existence. What if his conclusions about that night were wrong?

Bryna woke cold and stiff in her car. She groaned as she sat up and stretched. The first thing that came to her mind was her strange encounter with the Wraith. She had no idea what he was exactly, just that he didn’t like her and he had a hell of a lot of power. She collected herself together as much as possible without having a cup of coffee and stumbled out of her car.

Where did he go?

She shrugged it off. He probably couldn’t come out in the daylight. Not that she really believed that. He wasn’t a vampire. She hugged herself and decided to pay one last visit to Vincent and apologize for bothering him. It was silly, she knew, but it was obvious she wasn’t the only one who blamed her for his death. The morning air was foggy and cold, so she used a brisk walk to warm herself up a bit.

She stilled when the grave came into view. The enormous hooded figure of Wraith was crouched down in front of the headstone. She walked over quietly and stood there for a moment. Very softly. “Do you think he’d mind if I talked to him one last time?”

He stood up abruptly. “Say what you have to say, and then we need to leave.”

She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Can I have a private moment?”

“No,” came his harsh voice.

Okay. She’d say what she needed to say. If it was embarrassing, too bad for her. She moved past the terrifying Wraith and kneeled down next to Vincent’s headstone. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen or who this guy is, but I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make it here for your next birthday.” She wrapped her hand around the chain holding Vincent’s high school ring. He’d given her the ring and the chain for their six-month anniversary. He’d saved the whole time they’d dated just to give it to her. She loved it beyond anything. She undid the clasp and with a trembling hand she reached out and placed it around the flower stand. “I, um, need you to hold on to this for me. You know, so that if I survive this, I have a reason to come back.” She sniffled. “I’m not ready to say goodbye yet. I know it doesn’t mean much in light of everything I’ve done, but I still love you. Please, wherever you are, be happy.”

A hand locked roughly around her upper arm and dragged her up to her feet. Anger strummed in his words, “It’s time to go.”

“But I wasn’t finished.” Wraith didn’t seem to care. He was already dragging her through the cemetery. “Let me go, you gigantic brute! You’re hurting me!”

His bruising grip didn’t lessen. It went tighter. “You’re in danger here.”

Bryna scrambled to keep up with him. Stupid man. He really had no idea what kind of fire he was playing with, and it wasn’t just the color of her hair. “Duh. I’m in danger everywhere, but lucky you, I’m still alive.”

He stopped walking, and she crashed into him. It was like slamming into a brick wall. She backed up a pace and glared up at him. “Look, we need to at least be able to like each other for the next week, so why don’t you just forget that I killed your friend, and then you can hate me again when this is over.”

His hooded face was in hers in the next second, but still shrouded in shadow, making it impossible to make out his features. “Do you forget him often, Bryna? Is that something easy for you to do?”

She slapped him. The thwack of sound echoed in the cemetery. Wraith’s body tensed. Bryna was sure she was about to die for striking him, but he needed to stop. She lifted her chin. “You don’t know anything. Hate me all you want. God knows I hate myself.” She jerked out of his hold.

Wraith backed up a pace, his entire massive frame going still. He wasn’t seven feet tall. Probably closer to six and a half feet. Bryna kicked up her chin and lifted a brow at him and narrowed her eyes trying to catch a glimmer of his face. When she couldn’t she scowled at him. “That hood is getting really old. If you don’t want me to see your face, fine.” She stiffened when she heard the slamming of car doors. Damn. People. She looped her hand around his wrist. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

*

Vincent followed her back to the car. His brain was short circuiting. He was sure of it. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be going at all. His Bryna had been so full of life; she’d been so vibrant. This woman making his cock hard had the same body that always ignited him into an inferno of need, even centuries after he’d departed from the living. She had the same autumn red hair that looked like a living flame when touched by the sun. The same clearest emerald eyes that could steal a man’s soul—and they had. From the first moment her eyes met his, she’d had him. Now she hated herself and didn’t bat one of those pretty eyes when she spoke of her own death. It was a mindfuck of the worst kind.

“Get in the car,” she ordered.

He didn’t quibble about who drove. It was her car, and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to drive with how muddled his brain had become in the last five minutes.

“Where are we going?”

Anger sparked. “You’re just going to believe what I’m telling you and let me cart you off to only God knows where?”

She snorted at him as she started the car. “It’s either listen to you or run off to snuggle with a toothy vampire. I’ll take my chances with you, thanks.”

“Why?”

She shrugged as she pulled out of the church parking lot. “They helped me kill Vincent. Why would I trust them?”

He gritted his teeth. The guilt rolling off the woman was stifling. It was difficult to breathe around her. At least she’d suffered as much as he had—though not as long. At this point in her life, she’d aged only ten years, while for him, death had come two hundred years before. What had once been a two-and-a-half-year age gap was now roughly one hundred ninety-three years. That in and of itself was enough to fuck with his head. Time walking had never before given him a headache, but his temples started throbbing.

He settled his large frame in the passenger seat of her car and looked at her. Damn. The woman was a knockout. He’d seen many different women in many different times. None of them had the same effect on him she did. He snarled at her response. “Helped you kill Vincent?”

“Yeah,” her tone went subdued. “But I’m sure you already know the details.” She perched on the seat, sitting at an angle too close to the steering wheel. “Do you really know him? Have you seen him since…h-he d-died?”

His jaw worked as he came up with the answer to give her. He hated Felix. At this moment, he hated that bastard more than dying. There may or may not be some kind of apocalypse needing to be thwarted here. This was probably just some elaborate scheme to get him to face Bryna. Damn the man. This sucked. He hated thinking he made a wrong assessment. Innocent people died when he did that, and it had been more than a century since he’d made those kinds of colossal mistakes. “Yeah. I know him.”

“Is he…” She shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“Know what?”

“Where are we going?” she countered.

“I have no idea.” His tone went softer. “I’m just supposed to keep you alive so the apocalypse doesn’t happen.”

She turned after the stop sign. “Maybe I should just take you home.” She gave a half-grin. “That is, if Peggy doesn’t try to attack you with her umbrella. I think you scared her yesterday.” She bit her lip and then let out a long sigh. “You really can’t kill me?”

His brain twitched. “You want to die?”

She drove to the next turn a mile down the road before she responded. “Yes. No. I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right that I am alive and he isn’t. You know?”

“Yeah.” His tone went even softer.

Her head cocked to look at him when they got to a stop sign. “You sound familiar. Like I should know your voice.”

His face twisted. “You should, or at least, you used to know it.”

She stopped in the middle of a side street and looked at him. “Are you dead?”

“Yes.”

Her back went straight as she started driving again. “Okay. Am I dead?”

“No.”

“You’re not helpful. What the hell is going on?” she snapped at him.

“I’ve already told you—”

“Yeah, yeah, I can’t die or the apocalypse happens. Great. Just want I wanted.” She slumped in her seat and almost missed stopping at the red light. The tires squealed, and she cursed softly under her breath. “Sorry,” she mumbled.