The Darkest Dream (The Darkest Trilogy) (5 page)

Either I was too worn out from everything else that had happened, or I couldn’t find the emotion dwelling within me…

Because it wasn’t there.
 

After all, he’d saved me, hadn’t he?
 
Whatever he was, he’d saved me.

“You know what I am.”
 
His eyes glanced over in my direction and I attempted to display some amount of fear, just in case there really was a reason for me to be afraid.
 
I didn’t want to display false courage and let him think I wasn’t taking him seriously.
 
He turned back to the road and shook his head. “But I can’t let you leave this car.
 
Not unless I’m with you, and that’s defeating the purpose.”

“Let me go,
”
 
I
spoke more firmly now, actually beginning to feel some of that false courage I was afraid of, but still he shook his head.
 
“So, what, you’re going to kill me just like that guy killed
Phe
?”
 

The words were out of my mouth before I’d even thought about them, and as I realized what I said, I gasped again, covering my mouth.
 
Darren turned his head toward me as he stopped at a light.
 

Speaking the words aloud made everything seem so much more
real
.
 
Fresh tears began to fill my eyes as I stared at him, his stormy eyes finding mine.

“Listen.
 
I’m sorry about your friend.
 
There wasn’t anything I could do for her—if there had been, I would have.
 
And about the only thing I can promise you right now
is
that
I
won’t hurt you.”
 
He still held my eyes, and for a moment—though I had no idea of how, I knew he was telling the truth.
 
I didn’t even know this man, but still I found myself trusting him.
 
I didn’t let my guard down, though, thinking it best to keep my stupidity to myself.
 

“The best
thing
you can do right now is rest—not talk, not move, just close your eyes and relax.”
 
After a long moment, I blinked, confused, and then nodded in
agreeance
—though it was completely against my own will.
 
He nodded in return, shifting his gaze back to the road.
 

I hung my head for a moment, staring at my hands, wanting to say more.
 
But I couldn’t.
 
Instead, I felt my eyes growing heavier—felt my conscience growing dull, felt my will completely dissolve.

I gradually fell into a dreamless and restless sleep.
 
When I woke again, I felt myself being carried, arms wrapped protectively around me, the scent of rain all around me.
 
I expected to feel warmth, but everything was still so cold.
 
I heard keys unlock a door, and then heard the door closing behind us.
 
I heard the soft noise of feet hitting a hard surface, felt my body being shifted delicately.
 

A soft bed surrounded me and I determinedly forced my eyes open, seemingly against their will.
 
I found the man’s head hanging over my own as he pulled blankets up around me.
 
“Where am I?”
 
I asked, eyeing the room.
 
He seemed genuinely surprised to hear my voice.
 
I felt like an eternity had passed before he finally answered.

“My home,
”
 
he
said.
 
I hesitated for a moment, considering pressing for more information, but Darren spoke before I had the chance.
 
“I can’t tell you the exact details.
 
You’re in my house, in my room, in my bed.
 
And you have nothing to worry about because I’m going to be within—”

“What if it’s you I’m worried about?”
 

There was a moment of silence, and I took the opportunity to gauge his reaction.
 
His expression faltered briefly, and I could see the sorrow deepen within his eyes.
 

He didn’t want me to be afraid.

And, though I knew I
should
be worried about him, I simply couldn’t find the emotion anywhere within me.
 

“There are so many things going on in my head right now.
 
I—I don’t know who you are, I don’t know
what
you are…I don’t even know your name.”
 
I paused, biting my lip nervously.
  
“I don’t know why I should trust you.”
 
I told him, almost apologetically.

“My name is Darren.”
 
He shifted his gaze to the tangled black sheets, and the urge rose up within me to touch my hand to his chin and force him to meet my eyes again.
 
“But now isn’t the time for questions.
 
Not those ones anyway.
 
You should rest—”

“I don’t want to rest.
 
There are certain things I have to know, Darren.”
 

My voice was very steady as I spoke, an eerie feeling of calmness within me.
 
It was almost as if I knew what was to come—as if I had always known, somewhere deep inside me.
 
There was also a strange sense of comfort—somehow I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, and that I could—and if I so desired,
would
—be safe with him.
 

I told myself I was being crazy, trying with everything I could muster to fear him.
 
I
wanted
to feel it.
 
Shouldn’t I?
 
Hadn’t I just witnessed a murder at the hands of someone who clearly knew this person?

Or whatever he was, anyway.

“I could say the same thing about you.
 
I don’t know what your name is, either.”
 
He finally responded.
 
I inhaled slowly, raising my chin just a little despite the pain that flashed through my neck.

“Lucinda Malone.
 
I’m seventeen years old, I live in an apartment all by myself, and both of my parents are dead.”
 
I was aware of the sharp edge to my voice, but I did nothing to disguise it—perhaps hoping he would sense that I wasn’t afraid of him.
 
I wasn’t sure why, but I felt this was prudent to my survival.
 

If I feared him, I would seem more vulnerable.
 

But if I showed him that I was capable of handling whatever it was he had to throw at me, then maybe—just maybe—he wouldn’t hold back so much.
 

His eyes found mine and held them.

“Darren O’Connor.
 
I’m…well, I was nearly twenty-five—you don’t want to know how old I really am.
 
I live in a house all by myself, and both of my parents are dead.”
 
He shrugged, his eyes saddening briefly as he shifted his gaze.
 
“It’s been so long since I’ve told someone my name.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve
had
to tell someone my name.”
 
I said, half smiling at the irony of it all.
 
Living in the same small town my entire life, most everyone knew who I was—especially with my history.
 

“You’re a…a vampire, aren’t you?”
 
Like in the car, I spoke before thinking—my mouth forming the words before I knew it.
 
Darren looked everywhere around the room, except at me, before nodding his head solemnly.
 
A shiver worked its way down my spine and I tightened my arms around my small frame.

“Don’t…please don’t be afraid.”
 

His words weren’t needed.

“I’m not afraid of you,
”
 
I
said as I found his eyes, and we both knew I was being honest.
 

For some reason, the knowledge did not frighten me in the slightest.
 
It was almost as if I’d known all along of the existence of another world—as if I’d always known there was something more to the darkness.
 
I held steadily to his eyes, trying desperately to read them.
 

What I saw only gave me further evidence that I could trust him.
 
Darren not only looked ashamed, but it seemed as if the knowledge that I did not fear him actually frightened
him
.
 
I could tell he was completely taken aback and it took him several long moments to recover.
 

He said nothing though as he ducked his head, reaching out to place his hand under my back and lifting me a little so that he could pull my arm out of the jacket.
 
It stung briefly as the collar rubbed against my freshly torn skin and I gritted my teeth, preventing myself from alerting him of any pain.
 
I could tell he was using the most extreme of care, so as not to hurt me any further.
 

Mustering what little energy I could, I pulled my other arm out of the sleeve and handed the jacket to him, the air rushing from my chest as I did so.
 

It had been my mother’s jacket.
 
I remembered her wearing it when I was little—how she’d always looked so poised.
 
A reckless sort of beautiful, my dad had called it.

Darren looked it over, his eyes pausing briefly on the neck, which even I could tell was saturated with blood.

“You can trust me, Lucinda.”
 
He looked up then and held my eyes, his full of an unshakable resolve, and after an instant, I looked away, believing him.
 
“Sleep.”
 
I watched him rise, then turn and walk toward the door.
 
Before he had even left the room, I had fallen asleep.

***

Again, my sleep was dreamless.
 

It was unusual for me to sleep without dreams.
 
Ever since I was a little girl, I’d been plagued with very involved and detailed dreams.
 
Then again, I thought as I considered my erratic sleep pattern as of late, the idea of me sleeping at all was something to be grateful for.

When I woke, my neck was stiff and pained.
 
My mouth felt dry and cottony, as if I hadn’t had anything to drink in days.
 
Then it dawned on me:
 
Maybe I hadn’t.
 
For all I knew, I could have been asleep for a mere few hours or perhaps a few days.
 
Struggling to become more alert, I realized I had no sense at all regarding how long I’d been asleep.
  

With less effort than the last time, I opened my eyes and glanced around the dark room, taking a few long moments to get adjusted.
 
I blinked several times,
then
noticed the heavy black curtains covering the window, darkening the room so much that I could barely make out a thing.
 

I sighed, lifting the blankets and stepping out of the bed.
 
My legs were shaky, as if they hadn’t been used before.
 
My body felt weak
;
 
my
head swam.
 
I clumsily made my way over to the curtains and pulled them open, peering out into the fading sun-lit sky.
 
I saw a faint reflection of myself in the glass, moving my fingers toward my cracked lips.

Without warning, I heard the door open and saw Darren walk in—and then gasp in pain as he jerked back out.
 
I stopped myself from gasping as my gaze darted toward the bedroom door.
 
I saw the splash of sunlight that had been in his path and I quickly dropped the curtain.
 
It only took a moment for him to step back in.
 
“I’m sorry,
”
 
I
said, my breathing short and quick, as if afraid. “I…I—”

“It’s not your fault,
”
 
his
voice was strained and I could tell he was in pain.
 
Not knowing what to do with the situation—or myself—I stood there, fidgeting with my hands.

“Are you alright?”
 
I asked after a moment.
 
He kept his head down while he nodded.
 
“I…I just woke up and…”
 
I began to explain, but as I realized it was probably unnecessary, I stopped and cleared my throat, looking at the floor for a moment.
 

Finally, I decided to change the subject, attempting to defuse the awkwardness before finding his eyes.
 
“I…do you have a shower?”
 
I heard him laugh softly and I realized how stupid that must have sounded.
 
What kind of home would come without some sort of shower?
 
Surely vampires took them, too.

The word
vampire
stuck in my mind and I expected to feel some kind of wave of fear—or at the very least a shiver—but nothing happened.
 
I felt my cheeks redden and I turned my gaze back to the floor.

“Yes, I have a shower—there’s one right through that door, and another out here.” I heard him clear his throat.
 
“I don’t have much…but there’s a towel and everything in the bathroom already.
 
Something you can change into, if you’d like.”
 
I nodded, trying to keep my mind away from the oddity of the situation.

“I…”
 
I stopped.
 
I didn’t know what to say in a situation like this.
 
Had this been a normal circumstance—perhaps with a boy instead of a vampire, I decided I would have been just as awkward.
 
Phe
was always so much better with boys—