Chapter Fifteen

I couldn't keep track of the night and days that passed without seeing my vampire. But after the first night, Frank Langella appeared with a few of my things. Well, that was one way to break up with someone. I'd curled up in bed, weighed down by exhaustion and my own breaking heart. Drifting in and out of sleep, there was one night where I thought I saw him standing in the corner of my room, but whether it was a dream or willful longing, I wasn't sure.

A cramp in my stomach got me out of bed. While my desire to eat had fled, I recognized the function of it. I'd become proficient in this kind of survival. I padded into the kitchen, clinging to the walls to fight down the dizziness. Water. I needed water. And food. I made it to the fridge, opening the door before I sat down heavily in the glow of its light.

Leaning forward, I dragged the water purifier pitcher towards me, flicking the cap off to drink directly from it. The water slammed into my stomach, spreading cold through my abdomen. I put it aside on the floor next to me and leaned in, shifting condiment bottles and groceries aside to get to the nutrient shakes in the back of the fridge. I've dealt with food avoidance during the worst of my anxiety. It goes beyond not just having an appetite for anything, the appetite is there, but the desire is dead.

Nutrient shakes become your best friend. Trembling fingers got the packaging open, and I took one of the shakes out. I tore at the seal, getting it open to twist open the lid. I shut my eyes and forced myself to take a slow sip, and then another. I finished it before climbing to my feet with the pack, placing it on the counter before grabbing up the water pitcher.

Fruit. Did I have fruit anywhere? I shut the fridge and opened the freezer to dig through its contents. Here we go. A medley of frozen fruit and spinach. Something heavier than the nutrient shake, but not as heavy as solid food. I placed it on the counter and dug out the blender. I started to load it and paused. If I was hungry, Frank would be starving.

"Frank?" I called, padding out of the kitchen to go looking for him. My poor cat. "I know, I'm a bad mommy." I sighed, making my way to the food bowl that sat in the corner of the living room.

I paused to blink at it. Frank was lounging next to it, lazily eating at the pile of food and treats that had been left for him. Even his water dish had been cleaned and filled. A sudden heat filled my eyes. Whatever secrets Charlemagne had, whatever kind of monster he might be, he remembered to feed my cat when I couldn't get out of bed.

Tears slipped down my face as I got down on my knees to run my fingers through Frank's fur. "That damn vampire, Frank, I don't know what I'm gonna do." I sniffed, dropping forward to place my forehead against his side. He meowed and patted my head with his paws as if to ask just what I thought I was doing disturbing him in this manner.

I leaned back and wiped my face with the back of my hand. I had to see him. I needed to see him. Climbing back to my feet, I moved towards my bedroom. I almost gave up a few times, the prospect of taking a shower made me want to crawl back into bed, but I thought of the overfilled food bowl and Charlemagne, and I did the damn thing.

I threw on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and an old bomber jacket now that my coat was out of commission. I didn't bother with my messenger bag either, I just grabbed my keys and headed out.I didn't know what I'd do when I got to Fortuna. What I would say. I just knew I wanted to be near him. Fight a little. Tell him he'd had enough time. Any more distance and I would just go crazy.

I drove towards Fortuna in a haze of my own thoughts. Worry gnawed at my stomach. What if he turned me away? What if the gate didn't open? I'd just climb over it. I nodded to myself. Right, I'd shake the bars until he let me in. If you're going to break up with me, do it to my face.

The gate was hanging open when I pulled up to Fortuna. I didn't think anything of it as I drove straight through and parked Beatrice out front. I cut the engine, pocketing my keys, before I started towards the veranda. The door stood open too, letting out a pool of yellow light into the nighttime darkness. I'd only just approached it when I heard the sound.

Tension coiled through my body as I froze in the dim light. It was a horrid, high-pitched keening sound, full of raw grief. It grated against my skull and burrowed into my bones. My mother had made a similar sound the night my father died. A knot of overwhelming dread settled in my stomach.

I pushed past the feeling to turn and run and stepped inside. "Charley?" I called, his name crackling in my mouth.

The sound continued, full of terrible longing and mourning. I took another step inside when Nick appeared in front of me, his face was pale, eyes wide, as if he were seeing a ghost. "Abby?" He breathed out, reaching for me suddenly to jerk me towards him and crush me against his chest. "Oh God, Abigail. We thought you were dead."

I made a noise of surprise, my eyes widening. "What?" I choked out. "Why would you think that? Where's Charlemagne?" I asked, pulling my head back to look up at him. "Nick, where is he?"

He shook his head. "I can't believe you're here." He said, his fingers curled in my jacket. "If you're here, who the hell is in there?" Nick said, turning his head towards the living room.

Jerking out of his grip, I started in that direction, and realized the sound was coming from the library. My heart dropped into my stomach as it grew louder, the sound breaking into gut-wrenching sobs. I hurried past Beau and Madeline, pressing Bianca out of the doorway to get into the library. My eyes snagged on the body first. Laid out on the worn loveseat, dark hair draped across her... I blanched, my stomach rolled, and slammed my eyes shut. No face. No face. No face. Just blood.

So much blood.

I turned away from it, but not before it registered that the body was wearing my clothes. Exhaling, I opened my eyes to look at Charlemagne. Marcus stood over him, pleading softly in a mix of panicked Italian and French. His pale face was covered in a mix of dark blood and streaks of pearlescent tears. My vampire was on the ground, pressed up against the wall with his knees bent, and a silver stake pressed against his heart.

My own heart dropped into the pit of my stomach. "Charley?" I breathed out, starting for him. "What are you doing?" I whispered, feeling weightless. This couldn't be real.

Marcus appeared in front of me, his teeth bared. "What are you doing here, human?" He rumbled.

I blinked at him. A sudden blush of hatred filled my gut. "You're a bad friend." I muttered, dipping around him and tugging my arm out of his grip, feeling the sleeve of my bomber jacket ripping.

My knees bent, but I barely felt it as they hit the floor. "Charley?" I whispered again, shifting towards him to carefully place my hands on his knees. "Can you hear me?"

His breath came in harsh pants, chest rising and falling, when his eyes rolled towards me, they were blue, but they were pale against the color of blood that had filled the whites of his eyes. "I killed you." He whispered, voice hoarse and cracking around the edges.

I shook my head at him. "I'm right here." I mumbled, heat filling my eyes, as I started to reach for his hands.

"Ne pas." He hissed, digging the point of the stake harder into his chest. It cut through the fabric of his pullover. Blood seeped into the fabric around it. "I deserve to die. I don't want to be in this world without you, Abigail."

I froze, tears slipped down my face as my heart thumped painfully under my breastbone. "I'm right here." I said, holding my hands out in front of me in a placating manner. "Please, please, don't do this." My throat tightened. "Charley, I'm here, I came back to-to fight with you, okay?"

Charlemagne looked at me, but I wasn't sure if he actually saw me, if he believed. "Why would you do that?" He mumbled. "I don't even remember you coming inside."

His face blurred in my vision as my eyes filled again. "That's not me, baby." I whimpered, blinking tears out of my eyes. "I-I'm right here, Charley, I c-came back cause I want to be with you. I want to be with you, even though you're vain and arrogant—I know those are almost synonyms— and you drive me crazy, and sometimes, I just don't get it. We just don't match, but I don't care cause you're also wonderful. And you've given me so much. Things I would have never thought to ask for myself."

I swallowed hard before leaning forward to press my forehead against his with a small audible clack. I wanted him to feel me. Know me. "Don't leave me." I whispered, shutting my eyes tight. "Please, please, don't leave me."

There was a small sound as the stake hit the floor, and then his arms slid around me to crush me against his chest. I whimpered and slid my arms around his neck to hold onto him as tight as I could. "You're really here?" He asked softly, turning his face into my neck.

"I'm here." I promised, tightening my grip around him. I'd started to tremble, a sob building in my chest. "I'm right here, baby." I said, the words breaking as I started to cry against his shoulder.

A shudder rippled through him, half-sob, half-groan, as his fingers curled against the back of my ribs. "I killed those girls." He choked out. "I killed them, Abigail, a-and I just don't remember doing it."

I shook my head. Nononono. "I don't believe it." I hiccupped. "You wouldn't."

"I am a monster, my love, mon coeur, I have killed before." He murmured, leaning his head back and brushing his fingers through my hair. "Regardez-moi, look at me." He tilted my head back until we were looking at each other. "I don't remember what happened, but... the night I left you in my room, I blacked out, and when I woke up, there was blood on me."

His eyes welled and tears slid down his angular cheeks. He was so pale it scared me. "I never thought I could hurt you. I never wanted to." Charlemagne whispered, slipping his thumb along my cheek. "But those girls, they looked like you."

"No, no, no." I shook my head harder. "Why are you saying that? Don't say that." I choked out. "You wouldn't hurt me, so-so you wouldn't do this."

Charlemagne closed his eyes and leaned forward to press his forehead to mine. "Will you come upstairs with me?" He asked softly.

I nodded, brushing our foreheads together, as I held him tighter, not willing to let go of him for a second. A mounting dread was turning my stomach. And it dipped as he moved us. I wrapped my legs around his waist and hugged him tight, my eyes briefly slipping over his room. There were empty wineglasses and bottles littering the nightstand and floor by the bed. There was a faint scent of blood and something floral and citrus.

In a faraway way it was nice to know I wasn't the only one who'd had a hard time being apart. Charlemagne's arms tightened around me as he carried me towards the bed. "Abigail. I need you to listen to me, ca va?" He murmured, settling on the edge.

Sniffing, I opened my eyes to look at him. I didn't want to listen. I didn't want to hear the desperate heartache in his voice. "I don't want to." I mumbled, jaw trembling. "Just hold me."

He shifted until we were laying in the center of the bed, our legs entwined and our arms still around each other. "Please." Charlemagne murmured, "I need to tell you what's happening."

"But I'm scared, Charley, I'm scared of what you're going to say." I mumbled, shutting my eyes, and pulling him in closer to press our foreheads together. "I'm scared."

"I know, I know, mon coeur." He murmured, slipping his fingers through my hair. He started to move his head, to press his mouth against mine when he remembered himself. "I'm sorry."

Sniffing, I lifted my hand and wiped his mouth with my sleeve. "It's okay." I mumbled, dropping my hand to lean forward and kiss his mouth. I could still taste the tang of blood and leftover wine, but I didn't care. I just wanted to be close to him.

Charlemagne placed kisses against my mouth, chin, and cheeks. "Abigail." He said softly. "We need to talk." He murmured, bringing his forehead to mine.

My throat tightened painfully. "Okay." I managed, nuzzling into him. "Just don't let go."

He held me tighter. "I'm going to tell you a story now, I need you to listen." Charlemagne raised a hand to slip his thumb along my cheek, slipping hair behind my ear. "There was a vampire. A scoundrel of a man. A dastardly creature. Growing bored with his own existence. The world was draining of color. There were no small joys left. He thought then that he might Sleep and Sleep a long time. Anything to stave off the numbness that was rapidly growing like a cancer inside of him.

"Vampires who grow bored, go mad. Become infected by a sickness. They begin to frenzy and black out. They lose their minds." He swallowed hard. "He'd hoped to avoid it. Sleep would cure him. Or the sun. He hadn't decided which would be better. A longer walk towards death or the morning light. And then some silly girl hit him with her car." Charlemagne met my gaze. "And the world was filled with color again."

I swallowed hard, tears blurring his perfect face. There were so many things I wanted to tell him in that single moment. But I'd heard what he'd said, what he meant. "You think you've gone bad." I whispered, blinking to dislodge the tears. "That you're sick."

"Yes." Charlemagne admitted softly. "Why else would I kill those girls and not remember?"

Tension corded its way through my body, hunching my shoulders. "But you don't know that you did." I breathed out, curling my fingers in his shirt, wanting to pull him closer. "You don't know."

"But you cannot say for sure that I didn't, Abigail." Charlemagne pressed closer until the planes of his body fit against mine and nearly every inch of us was touching. "Even you have had your doubts about me, I know."

My face scrunched up as he spoke, guilt twisting like a sharp knife in my stomach. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Charley, I didn't— I—" He pressed his mouth against mine, quieting me.

"Hush, mon coeur. I don't blame you. I have kept too many secrets." He said, slipping his thumb along my cheek again to smooth away the tears. "Abigail. There are only two options for a vampire who gets this kind of sickness."

I swallowed a fresh wave of tears. Sleep or death. "So, go to Sleep." I choked out. "Sleep and then you'll feel better, and I'll be here waiting for you."

His features softened, but the look on his face broke my heart into a million pieces. "The Sleep required for the mind to heal itself could last anywhere from fifty to a hundred years, mon coeur." He explained softly. "You can't wait for me."

"Turn me." I blurted out. "So, Turn me, and t-then I can." I said, reaching up to brush my hair from my neck. "That's what we have to do, right?"

He shook his head and took my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss my palm. "I know you. You don't want to be a vampire yet, Abigail." He swallowed hard. "And I won't have the time I need to convince you."

"No, no, no." I started to cringe away from him, from what he was trying to say, but he pulled me closer. "What do you mean?" I whimpered.

"You know what I mean." Charlemagne said, holding me steady. "I have to make this choice for myself before the council and Valentine decide to make it for me." He studied my face. "I haven't seen the sun rise in over five hundred years, but I'll see it soon."