Forget About Midnight (4 page)

He knew what I meant. I’d put off asking this question, certain that I already knew the answer. Still, I needed his confirmation.

So much had changed upon my death. If my link to Kale had changed too, it was best to find out now. A release from me was what he’d always wanted. If my death had somehow released him from the hold I had on him, then maybe we could move past the horrible promise he’d made me.

“You don’t know? I figured it was obvious.” Kale turned back to the TV and rubbed a hand over his face. His reluctance to face me was telling. “Nothing changed. Not even when you were dead.”

I didn’t understand. If not even my death had given him a brief reprieve, then what did that mean? “Then the only way you’ll be free of me is if…”

“If I’m the one who’s dead? Maybe. Maybe not even then.” Kale fidgeted with the remote in his hand, doing his best to look at anything except me. “Things have changed. Your heartbeat doesn’t thunder in my head anymore. And your blood no longer calls my name with the same intensity. But I feel you deeper than I ever did. And I still want you in every way.”

“Kale.” I needed to peer into him. To search him for that spark.

He turned back to me with great reluctance. I was an idiot to have hoped anything would have changed. Of course I already knew that it hadn’t. He had carried me away from the sun and killed at my side every night since. That was love, but it was also more than that. My hold over him was stronger than ever.

“I’m sorry,” I said, knowing that it wasn’t good enough but that it was all I had.

“Don’t be. I don’t want to punish you anymore for this. I’ve done enough of that.”

I laughed then. It was bitter, and the timing was wrong. The emotional shifts and mood swings were unpredictable. So I cackled like the mad woman that I was while Kale sat there looking uncertain.

Finally the well of laughter dried up. “It’s really not funny. But if I don’t laugh, I’ll cry. Or worse.”

The couch creaked as Kale slid across to the cushion next to me. I tensed. When he reached for my hand, I expected my heart to race. I was still surprised when it didn’t. My heart wasn’t still, but its beat was so subtle, so slow, that it was almost imperceptible. It was an illusion that a vampire’s heart didn’t beat. It did but just barely.

A rush of nervous energy still flooded me though, as it had when my pulse still pounded for Kale. Though my reaction to him was nowhere close to human, it was just as strong, if not more so.

“Alexa,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze. “I forgive you.”

“Kale, no. You don’t have to let me off so easy. I was unfair to you.”

My senses were vastly stronger. His hand was warm in mine, almost hot from our night of mayhem. Running my finger over the back of his hand, I was aware of every groove of the tiny lines decorating his knuckles. The smoothness of his skin gave me a sinful longing to feel his hands on my body.

“What I did to you was so much worse.” His voice grew husky. So much regret lingered in his eyes. “Can we stop punishing each other? Please.”

My voice caught as I tried to speak. Emotion choked me. Tears threatened, but I was through crying, for tonight anyway. So I fought them back and merely nodded.

On impulse, I threw my arms around him and pressed my face to his neck, inhaling the scent of his subtle cologne. “Yes,” I finally managed to say. “I never wanted this for us, Kale.”

We held tight to one another, seeking closure that even forgiveness would not bring. When it became apparent to me that closure wouldn’t be part of our twisted relationship, I sought escape instead.

I kissed Kale, and though it was not our first kiss that evening, it felt like it was. Without the rush of stolen blood and the blissful power high to warp my train of thought, the kiss wasn’t fueled by my dark side. It was all me, seeking comfort.

His lips were hesitant on mine. There was a stiffness to his posture that betrayed his unease. However, the desire that flavored his aura was real. Natural, without influence, it made me want him more.

Trying to deepen our connection, I slipped my tongue into his mouth. When he ran a hand through my hair, I pressed closer. My passion soared as his kiss grew hungry. I was ready to climb into his lap.

And then he pulled away. “I can’t do this,” he whispered. “Trust me, I want to. I just… I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“This isn’t some teen make-out session. I’m not a fragile virgin, Kale. I can make this decision.” I stared at him, wondering where this was coming from. The sexual tension between us had been thick enough to walk on, and he was refusing me now?

“I’m sorry, Alexa, but I don’t think you can.” He held up a hand when I opened my mouth to protest. “Hear me out. You’re new. Your emotions are on overdrive. I can’t begin to tell you how badly I want to take you right here, right now. But I’ve fucked up enough when it comes to you. And after,” he faltered, guilt taking over his face, “after what I did to you, I just can’t.”

I didn’t want to think about that. Those memories lived in a place I’d locked away inside me. “If I’ve been able to move past that, why haven’t you?”

Kale sat back against the couch. I was sad that he’d withdrawn from me. He seemed to be regressing into himself. “There is no excuse for what went on in the FPA basement that night,” he said, his voice hollow. “I will never forgive myself for that.”

I shook my head, unable to bear the self-loathing in his eyes. “They tortured you, Kale. They drove you crazy. That place gets inside your head. I know, it spoke to me too.”

“But did it make you try to harm the person you most love? I was weak. I gave in because I wanted to stop fighting, and it felt so good. I hurt you because I wanted to. Don’t make excuses for that.”

His words struck me like a stake in the chest. I already knew this of course. Hearing him say it caused a sharp pang of absolute hurt to seize my undead heart.

“Fine. But that’s over. This moment is the one we have now. So why waste it? Why not be with me the way you always wanted to? The way I always wanted to?”

Sadness enveloped me. I felt sorry for myself, and it sucked. Forcing Kale into an intimate encounter wasn’t what I wanted. So I rose from the couch and headed for the stairs.

I paused at the top. He remained where I’d left him, in the center of the couch with his head back, staring imploringly at the ceiling.

“You’re a good man, Kale. Deep down inside, you really are. Don’t doubt that.”

There was nothing else I could offer him. My forgiveness for what Kale had done wasn’t enough. He had to forgive himself.

I was right back inside the nightmare that always awaited me in slumber. Although I wasn’t sure that nightmare was the right term since it happened during the day. Either way, it was a form of dream hell, and I hated it.

The FPA building loomed large beside me. It stood against the dark sky, menacing and beastly, holding horrid secrets within its walls. The night I died lurked in my subconscious, calling me back every time I closed my eyes, and here I was again.

For the most part, everything was the same as that night. Falon came through for me again, lopping off Shya’s head with a clean swipe of his angelic sword. And then there was Arys. This time he didn’t cower away from me as he had in reality. This time he turned on me, eyes flashing with hunger and fangs bared.

I backed away, hands up. Like every other time I’d had the dream, I begged Arys to spare my life. Pleading with him not to kill me, I fell on my knees in the dry grass and begged for mercy. I changed my mind. I didn’t want to do this anymore.

Arys dragged me close, fighting to bare my neck as I struggled against him. My cries went unheard as he overpowered me. He leaned in close, and I could feel his breath on my neck seconds before the sharp touch of fangs followed.

I didn’t want to die, didn’t want to have it end this way. Desperation had me screaming and then praying. Arys was violent and vicious, hurting me as he held me restrained. Tears streamed down my face. I knew what was coming. The dream always ended the same way.

Fangs plunged through my skin to bury deep within my neck. I awoke screaming and thrashing, fighting harder when I felt hands upon me.

“Alexa, it’s ok. It’s just me.” Kale shook me, trying to get me to focus on him. “It’s just a dream.”

He gathered me against his bare chest, folding his arms around me so I couldn’t flail about. Draping me in his painfully sweet energy, Kale whispered soothing words in my ear until I quieted.

My body shook, racked with terror, and unconsciously called power that made it feel like bees buzzed beneath my skin. I clung to him, relying on the way he felt to keep me rooted in reality.

“It never feels like a dream,” I murmured, my voice cracking with emotion. Being clad in only a t-shirt and underwear made me suddenly aware that he wore only silky soft pajama pants.

“Is it always the same?” He smoothed the hair back from my face. Concern furrowed his brow.

“Yes. I’m always trying to change my mind. But he doesn’t listen. He just kills me. Violently.” I had told the dream to Kale before. I searched him for some kind of reassurance. “The dreams will stop at some point, won’t they?”

It was Kale’s turn to look haunted. “Eventually they’ll begin to fade. They won’t feel as real. More time will pass in between them. And then they won’t come back for years. Maybe decades. But they will never leave you. Not completely.”

Shadows lurked in his gaze. Kale had shared bits and pieces of his history with Jez and me when we’d first grown close. He didn’t share much though, and I’d never had the guts to ask him the questions that came to mind. Until now.

“What are your dreams like?” I asked, whispering because the room was dark and silent, so it felt like I should.

A small shard of light from the bulb over the stairs reached the edge of the bedroom door, providing the only illumination. Even though the sun was high in the sky, we were surrounded by shadows.

Kale held me in a protective embrace. Resting against him, I angled myself so I could watch his expression as he answered. “There’s a lot of screaming in my dreams. Only some of it is my own.”

Something withered inside me at the raw pain emanating from him. It struck deep, making me wonder if being a vampire meant carrying the past forever, unable to ever move on. Upon our mortal death, were we forever held in limbo, existing but no longer moving forward?

The thought made me ill. Letting that kind of thinking overtake my mind was dangerous. “Who was she?”

Kale seemed reluctant to say her name. Torturing him with bad memories wasn’t my intent. I wanted only to connect with him. He already knew the name of the sire who tormented my dreams.

“Her name was Eva,” he said. Staring off into the darkest corner of the room, Kale went back in time. “I was sent to spy on her. It didn’t go as planned. She killed my comrades but spared me because she loved my eyes. She gave me a crash course in torture and death. I don’t miss her.”

A strange calm had fallen. I didn’t want to speak and risk ruining it. So I waited, hoping he would share more.

“Anyway,” he said abruptly, snapping back into the present. “I should go. You need to rest. It’s early still. Mid-afternoon.”

He tried to rise, but I held tight to him, keeping him on the bed with me. “Stay. Please. Just lie with me for a while.”

There was a moment when I thought he would refuse. But his expression softened, and he nodded. “Ok. Make room for me.”

I slid into the middle of the bed so he could get in beside me. Pulling the blanket up over us, he cuddled in close, spooning me so that our bodies curled together. Kale was stiff beside me at first. It made me feel like I needed to put him at ease.

“What did she look like?” I asked, cringing at my choice of words. “I’m sorry. I’m just curious.” With Kale curled up behind me, I couldn’t see his face. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“She was a redhead. Tall. Beautiful. Absolute evil in a pretty shell. Like you would imagine evil to look if it were to take the form of a woman.” His soft sigh warmed the back of my neck. “She made me a monster.”

“And I brought you back to it, didn’t I? After you worked so hard to leave that behind.”

It had taken my own death for it to sink in that I had been such a horrible influence on Kale. The worst part, I had enjoyed it. It had started with that first kiss we shared one night during a hunt. It had spiraled out of control the night I had saved him from Shya by burdening him with me. I understood now his plea for me to free him. I finally understood. But I knew what that meant, and I still couldn’t do it.

“I never left it behind. Somehow I just learned to bury it and go on. Until you.” The arm he had wrapped over me tightened, and he kissed my shoulder. “It’s not your fault though, Alexa. You’re not the one who made me a monster.”

I lay there staring at the closed closet door. He was wrong. “Didn’t I? We’ve been killing together, and we’re too damn good at it.”

“We are, aren’t we?” His low laugh tickled the sensitive spot on the back of my neck. It was a sexy sound that, combined with the scent and feel of him, shot off a blast of excitement in the pit of my stomach.

“It’s not funny, Kale.” My attempt to sound serious failed. The touch of his lips on the back of my neck and shoulder made my tone weak.

He hugged me close, pressing against me so that there was no place that our bodies didn’t touch. “Eva was my sire. A necessary evil in the life of every vampire. You are my wake up call. You make me crazy, but you also make me want to be a better man. I never cared as much about that as I did after I met you.”

A sharp pain racked me, an emotional stab that felt physical. Kale was one of the most generous, caring people that I knew. I couldn’t help but wonder how great he could be without me holding him back.

“You keep talking about her in the past tense. As if she’s dead or something.” I kept talking, saying anything but what I was really thinking.

“She is dead. Shya killed her.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, spewing silent curses at Shya. “That’s how he got to you. Figures. Definitely sounds like his style.”