Dead Girls Don't Cry (8 page)

Unlike humans, vampires know they have all the time in the world to mend fences, so most of us push off unpleasantness to deal with later. I believed someday, Jonathan and I would work out our issues. The elephant in the room between us—how I became a vampire and how he tricked me into it.

Reconciliation would never happen now. I had to two choices, deal with it or push it off.

I did the vampire version of Scarlett O’Hara – tomorrow is another day and ignored the elephant.

At the moment I had bigger issues. The most pressing – I couldn’t sleep soundly anymore. Dreams invaded my brain –
other
vampire’s dreams and nightmares. And fantasies. Ugh. I didn’t want to know which of my family had a fetish for hairy toes and bright red nail polish. I was about to give myself a lobotomy with a cafeteria spork, when Ian surprised me with a gift as I zoned out, bleary-eyed in the mess hall.

“You can control the bond,” he slid over a fruity drink pouch. My new favorite beverage.

I stabbed the straw through the silver foil. “Great. Mind sharing the secret with me?”

Ian laughed. The sound resonated down through my toes. The harsh mess hall lighting turned his blond hair nearly white, giving him an angelic aura. “I love your cheek. ‘Course, I’ll share. Lose the drink and don’t squirm.”

He reached across the table and grasped my forehead with his large, smooth palms. Every cell in my body sang at his touch. As if sensing my thoughts, Ian’s lids lowered. Within a second he was back to his usual cocky self, a half grin plastered on his lips. “See, the trick is to relax your mind. Don’t fight the emotions.”

“How do you know this?” Had I imagined his reaction? I must have been desperate for affection.

A dark cloud passed over his face. The blue in his eyes grew deeper. “Never you mind. Now, try it.”

As commanded, I closed my eyes and let the images, thoughts and emotions through. They flooded over me — too much, too fast. TMI. Again, with the hairy toes, this time with pink polish. Ick.

My brain choked on information overload. “Now what?” I yelled, opening my eyes, startling the human crew in the room.

Ian rubbed his thumbs across my lips. “No need to shout, luv. Close your eyes and visualize a surf board—”

“I don’t know how to surf!” Nausea roiled my stomach. “Hurry up before I puke.”

“Fine. Imagine a curtain, like the kind on stage. Pull the cord and shut them out. Simple.”

Cramps twisted my gut. I fought the flood and imagined the red velvet curtain at Fang Bang. In an instant, I was on the stage. The family, eyes closed in sleep, occupied the audience seats. Dream bubbles floated over their heads. Live action sequences played in each window.

“Close the curtain, Cherry.” Ian stood next to me on the stage. “Wonder how I got here later.”

I moved out of the spotlight and into the stage left wing. A beam of light shone onto an elaborate gold cord. Two thick fringed tassels dangled from the end. On the real stage, it took two stage hands to lower and raise the heavy curtain with a thick, grimy rope.

“Close the curtain, luv,” Ian gently urged.

I marched over and tugged the golden rope, silken and soft under my hands. The curtain quivered and remained open. I pulled again. Nothing. Stubborn curtain.

The toe fetish surfaced in my mind. Oh hell no!

I yanked harder, using my body weight as leverage. Red velvet rippled elegantly as the curtain cascaded to the floor. The raging torrent of emotion diminished and I could think again. The family’s thoughts were a dull hum in the background, much like the real stage, where I could hear the audience before I saw them.

The vision faded to black. “Thank you,” I breathed out and opened my eyes. The cafeteria was empty. An unopened juice pouch lay on the table in front of me, a parting gift from Ian.

Sooner or later, I’d learn how he knew this stuff. Rogue my ass.

CHAPTER SEVEN

My next meeting with Ian came sooner than I expected and not on my terms. After another tear filled night, I barricaded myself into the shower stall. Sadness and anger had become my two best friends, each taking a turn wreaking havoc on my emotions.

Jonathan’s loss stabbed me in the heart, leaving me raw and miserable in ways I never thought possible. I thought I had wanted to be free of him and I was wrong. I missed him. Our past baggage was no longer important.

A demented horror film looped in my mind, playing the same movie, Jonathan losing his head. It replayed over and over again. Each time the severed skull rolled across the floor and stopped, eyes facing me. Jonathan’s brown gaze pierced a hole in my gut.

The head spoke to me, repeating the same criticism. “Charity, I’m disappointed in you.” The shrill voice was my mother’s. I was always a constant source of frustration. Nothing I did was good enough.

“Charity, you are a disgrace to the family,” was her favorite rant. I slammed the water off, slid down the wall and tucked my knees to my chest.

Across the span of time, I could hear her voice, clear as day. “Charity, what man will want such a willful girl as you? Straighten your shoulders. Don’t slouch.”

“Shut up!” I shouted, banging the back of my head against the wall. “Leave me alone!”

My mother’s voice thickened, the English accent disappeared. Jonathan took her place and scolded, “This is your fault.”

I lost it. Great sobs racked my body. I could ignore my mother’s words because they weren’t true. But Jonathan – he was right. He’d still be alive if it weren’t for me. The family wouldn’t be jetting off to a lifeless rock with a price on their heads.

The crying subsided. Tiredness washed over me. I forced my limbs to move until I had a towel wrapped around my torso. Water droplets coated my shoulders and hair. I couldn’t care less about drying off.

“Cherry?”

I startled. The last person I wanted to see stood behind me. “Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Sorry, luv. I can’t do that,” Ian said. “This can’t continue. We need you.”

“Why?” My voice quavered. I refused to turn around. I looked like hell: dark circles, puffy eyes and matted hair. “Jonathan should have picked a better second.”

Ian gently twirled me to face him. “He made the right choice.”

I stared down at my toes. “I can’t do this.”

“You can,” he insisted.

“But . . . it hurts.” My lips trembled and my eyes stung as I fought another onslaught of tears.

“I know,” Ian said thickly. “I lost my sire too.”

I snuck a look at Ian’s face. Weariness lined his eyes and mouth. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. “I survived,” he finally said. “And so can you.” Ian picked up another towel and rubbed my dripping hair. When he finished, he patted the water off my shoulders. He picked up my brush and worked on unsnarling my hair.

Tension drained with each brush stroke. I don’t know how he did it to me, but I took the moment of comfort and savored it. “How did you lose your sire?”

“In a war. A long time ago.” Ian handed me a red jumpsuit. “I’ll be waiting out in the hall.

Motivated to learn more, I dried off and dressed as fast as I could. As promised, Ian waited for me, arms crossed, leaning against the far wall. “Are you angry?”

I thought for a moment. “Yes.”

“Good. Fury will help you survive. Tears are the first phase.”

“I don’t understand.” Unease tingled along my spine. Unbidden, a new torrent of emotions bubbled over me – hate, wrath, a thirst for vengeance. I clutched my head and squeezed. Whose emotions were these?

“Jonathan wouldn’t want you to grieve like this,” Ian’s kind tone rubbed me the wrong way. I didn’t need or want his pity. Who the hell did he think he was? British bastard.

Rage unleashed in a flood. The force and sudden onset shocked me. Instead of tears, I spewed out verbal venom.

“I don’t care what he would have wanted. He’s not here, now is he? He left me in this mess!” Hysteria tinged my voice. My deep seated fear, that I wasn’t good enough or smart enough, reared its head.

“Cherry…” Ian reached toward me. Again, the knowing look in his eyes pissed me off.

“Leave me alone!” I stomped off. A petulant child at her finest.

Damn, I needed to get a grip. And figure out what had happened. With super human speed, I raced down the hall with no destination in mind. If Ian followed, I could care less. The rage in me hoped so. I wanted to hit something or someone. To feel bones crunching in my hand or metal ripping under my fingers.

I slammed into a wall and bounced onto my ass, my insane trajectory stopped. With an animal’s fury, I vented my wrath on the offending barrier. Fortunately for me, the ship was stronger. A few sizeable dents appeared, but I hadn’t caused permanent damage to the walls.

“What’s happening to me?” I rubbed the sting out of my bruised hands.

“Emotional backlash. Comes from the blood bond.” Gentle hands lifted me up from the floor. Ian pulled me into a tight embrace. “There now, luv. You’re not alone.”

Ian was right. I wasn’t alone and I needed to stop acting like I was. His hands encircled my waist, finally resting against my hips. Not holding me. I was free to move away.

For the first time in a long while, hope sneaked into my heart. I tilted my face upward, angling my hands across his stomach. I should push him away. I didn’t trust my emotions, raw and needy. Were they my feelings or someone else’s?

I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. Tongue tied and unsure, I checked my mental shields, confirming they were firm and intact.

All the confusion was mine.

Ian stared down at me, his gaze intent, focused on my mouth. The ship’s lighting softened the angles of his cheeks and chin. Ian’s nearness assaulted my senses. Smooth muscles, hard as steel lay under my palms. I lightly flexed my fingertips, hovering over the ridges of his abdomen. With a small amount of pressure, I could touch him. Stroke him.

Desire curled in my belly, warm and lush.

A slow hiss escaped from Ian’s lips. His nostrils twitched as if scenting my need. Ian stilled, waiting for me to make the next move.

With deliberate slowness, I pinched the fabric of his jumpsuit between my thumb and forefinger. Ian arched an eyebrow, but otherwise remained motionless. A million uncertainties swirled in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut.

Where the hell was this coming from?

I should have moved my hand, but I remained frozen in place as if my feet were glued to the floor. A solid lump of warring emotions lodged in my throat.

Stop lying to yourself, Cherry
. I squeezed my eyes shut. Unshed tears burned behind my lids.
You always want what’s bad for you.

Ian could be a murderer.

Yet, he’d shown me nothing but kindness.

Stupid, fool. Experience had taught me not to trust hope. Fate always pulled the rug out from under me.

My eyelids popped open. Ian cocked his head to the side, silently questioning me.

A breathe hitched in my throat. Angst washed over me.
No. I don’t want to feel this way.

The pressure of Ian’s palms on my hips lightened, then disappeared. He stepped back, face calm and impassive. Had I hurt his feelings? Did he care about me? Or was I projecting my feelings onto him?

I shook my head. I wanted to apologize. Instead I fled. Like a coward.

~ * * * ~

Life went on. I missed Jonathan but the painful, cloying grief subsided. Within a day I was back to my old self. Mostly.

Tedium was my nemesis. After our tender moment in the hallway, I steered clear of Ian. Or maybe he avoided me. Either way, I didn’t see him for the rest of that day.

Have I mentioned before how boring space travel is? There’s nothing to do except read Prior’s mission reports (I’d rather stick pins in my eyes) or wander around the ship. A week into the journey and I was grateful for the posters on my walls. I missed the sky, the flowers, trees, and most achingly, my lake. Aside from special shower chambers, I hadn’t located running water on the ship. And, as I suspected, windows, portholes, whatever you call them were absent.

Jay kept the door to his quarters locked. He told me to stop disturbing his studies. Jay was experiencing his own form of denial. He believed he’d be earning his PHD when this was over. I didn’t want to point out this was a one way journey. Who needed a PHD when we carving out a new society?

I shuddered at the thought of manual labor. Hey, I was a pampered rich girl. We had servants do everything for us. Even at my lakeside cottage, I hired someone to tend my meager lawn. I hated dirt. Grit under my nails, even more so. Which is ironic since I loved plants, but not the work involved in their upkeep.

The ship lacked amusements. When I mentioned it to Prior, he sniffed, “This isn’t a vacation cruise, Ms. Cordial.” I resented the attitude that I was somehow defective because I didn’t find reading his mind numbing reports fun. There wasn’t even a checker board. Or cards. Nothing. Nada. Zilch to do.

Jay suggested I try taking naps. That got old after a few hours. His next recommendation to practice singing, I scoffed at as well.

Eventually, I broke down and searched for Ian. We hadn’t discussed my breakdown in the shower or my wall abuse. He remained surprisingly scarce. I figured out where his quarters were, but he never seemed to be there. When he did appear, he was always with someone like Captain Twit (aka Trent) or Prior. Was he avoiding me?

In desperate need of something to do, I decided to map the layout of the ship. The first day, I was so hopelessly lost I feared I might never find anyone ever again. Jay had been correct.

The ship was massive and definitely not made by humans. The big tip off. The total lack of human toilet facilities (other than makeshift crappers for the human crew). Plenty of showers. Whoever built the ship valued cleanliness.

For all I knew, Vampires could have built the ship. Every once in a while I’d encounter runes similar to the ones on the Queen’s old bracelet. Whenever I neared certain areas, the bangle would heat up, glow or some combination of both.

On day three, Jay decided to join me. Curiosity about the ship drove him away from his studies. Like me, Jay grieved for Jonathan. Sitting around with nothing to do but let the mind wander was not fun.

“Remember when we first met Jonathan?” Jay smiled broadly.

“Of course. We made fun of his silly frock coat. And crop pants.” Jonathan’s attire had been at least a century behind the times. He had still commanded the room. The rich and aristocratic fawned over him equally. Some of it was vampire charm, but most of it was Jonathan’s alluring presence and charisma. He exuded enough confidence to talk even the Queen out of her panties. Later, I’d heard a rumor he’d actually succeeded in getting into the Queen’s knickers. I never did find out if it was true.

Sadness gutted my insides, leaving an aching hole I was convinced would never be totally erased. As much as Jonathan and I quarreled, I loved him in my own way and I missed him.

“I was extremely jealous of him. I wanted his female escort. She was fabulous.” Jay steered me to the left. I followed his lead since his sense of direction was better than mine.

“Pearl. Such a great beauty. As long as she keeps her mouth shut.” The girl spoke like a sailor. If I had known then Jonathan was trolling around, looking for additions to his entertainment stable, I would have shorn off my red hair and ran.

Jay grew serious. “I miss India. I always believed I would go back there. I regret never taking the time.”

“I hear you, buddy. Regrets suck. If there’s a way for us to go home, we’ll find it.” I didn’t want to be exiled from my home because of Thalia’s false accusation.

One problem at a time. Ian and I would be stuck on Mars together. Sooner or later I would get the truth out of him.

The air in the hallway freshened and the lighting grew brighter. “Jay, did something change?”

“We’re in a new part of the ship, I think.” He smoothed his palm along the wall. “The metal here is different. So shiny.”

“There are no doorways either.” God, I hoped we weren’t in a missile launch tube or garbage chute, about to be ejected into space.

“Wait here, don’t move. I want to mark our location.” Jay had been writing on the walls with a marker. So far, no one had caught on. Prior would stroke out, then scold us for defacing USI property. Not that I cared.

I watched Jay retreat. He blinked out of sight. Gone. Vanished.

“Jay!” I ran toward the area where he disappeared. A force wrenched me backwards. I turned fists up, ready to fight.

No one was there.

The bracelet flared to life. Colorful characters flashed across its gold surface. A dark space opened that, sure as heck, hadn’t been there two seconds earlier. A portal to who the hell knew where. My feet marched forward, my body no longer under my control.

“No!” The area was black as night. Everyone knows what happens to females who enter dark, scary rooms. So what if I was a vampire. I wasn’t stupid. I was alone and who knows where I might end up. Despite my efforts to stop my traitorous feet failed.