Chapter 22

As I sit in the familiar embrace of the graveyard, I feel at peace. Tranquility washes through my body in this place that feels like home. It’s always the same feeling, as if I’m supposed to be here. Like I’m meant to be here with the mysterious man sitting behind me, his hand laced around my throat like a necklace. His touch claims me. Brands me as his. Possesses my soul. And I welcome every second of it because here, as I stare at the gravestone in front of me, I feel safe.

My body is soaked with sweet desire as he touches me, his tattooed arms running over my body. I can never see what his tattoos are since, when I glance down at the hands bringing pleasure, the artwork always blends and bleeds together. It never bothers me, though.

His hand is reaching lower to feel my desire for him, his hot breath on my ear as he leans in to speak to me. To say those same words, he whispers to me every time. “How does it feel, pretty girl? To be so vulnerable in my clutches?” No. This isn’t right. Panic, fear, and anguish rip through me. He doesn’t say that.

I try to move, but I’m bound and chained in a hold, not from the tattooed arms of my mystery man but from a woman’s clawed hand. Her hand on my throat tightens, cutting off all of my oxygen. I can’t breathe. My hands fly to the one clutching my throat, clawing and scratching to no avail. I’m gasping for air, tears brimming over my eyelids.

“You’ve made me very upset, Danica Gray. I don’t like to be made a fool of.” The woman’s giggle at my ear sends chills running through my body. There’s a sharp, sudden stabbing pain in my stomach, fire wrecking my insides.

With the hand locked around my neck, she forces my head down to see what she did to me. “Your sinews stretched and flayed open for me to feast upon. So easy. So tender and so sweet.” Her voice is seductive, but her words, and the sight in front of me, fill me with terror.

I’m staring at my mutilated stomach, blood pooling into my lap from where she eviscerated me with her claws. I try to scream, but nothing escapes my shattered airway with her vice grip still locked around my neck.

She licks my ear and moans loudly. “I can’t wait to taste you, pretty girl. After I’m finished with your corpse, I’m going to bathe in your blood and then give you to Oliver as a present.” She laughs maniacally, a piercing sound that drives through my ear. “You’ve made Balor very displeased with me. I never fail him. NEVER EVER. NEVER. He punished me for my failure. And that just won’t do. So I’m going to punish you, pretty girl, make you pay for how you made me fail.” Her sing-song voice is a stark contrast to the violence she’s threatening. Her death grip on my throat tightens, while the fingers of her other hand play in the gaping wound across my stomach. I feel my spine cracking under her grasp, my air trying to force itself out but just getting trapped beneath her claws. This is the end.

* * *

“Dani. DANICA! Dani, wake up!” My eyes shoot open as the voice shouting my name finally pierces the nightmare. I’m dripping in my own sweat, my heart racing a mile a minute as I struggle to catch my breath. My throat is dry and raw, and I can almost feel the imprint of claws on my throat. “Come back to me, kitten. I’m right here. You’re safe.” Chris’ voice is frantic, but even still, he makes me feel calm and safe as I’m wrapped tightly in his embrace. My face is buried into his chest, the tears pouring down my face soaking his shirt. My knuckles are white, as I firmly clutch his shirt in my hands. Above me, Chris is stroking my hair gently. “You’re okay. I’ve got you, Dani.”

I finally loosen my grip on his shirt and lift my head up to meet his eyes. Placing the hand that was stroking my hair onto my cheek, Chris wipes away my tears. “Dani, are you okay? What just happened?” Our faces are so close, his eyes searching mine wildly from only inches away, as he resumes his soft stroking of my hair. And I let him.

His embrace feels so intimate, so loving. As he holds me, our stares locked on each other, my mind stops racing. My breathing begins to slow. I begin to remember my nightmare, and although I never saw the woman’s face, I know her voice, and I know that Amanda has paid me a visit. “Amanda was in my dream. It felt so real,” I whisper.

Chris stills, his hand pausing in its soothing strokes of my hair. “What did she do?” he asks firmly.

I draw in a shaky breath. “She was killing me. I…” I pause to consider whether I really want to tell Chris the full scope of the recurring dream I’ve had for the last two years, “I’ve had the same dream. For two years since Oliver disappeared, it hasn’t changed at all. I know every little detail, and it never changes. But this time, it was the same dream, but Amanda was there. She was choking the life out of me and taunting me.” My voice begins to shake and crack as I recount the dream, the emotions slowly resurfacing with each word. I gasp, my hand grabbing at my abdomen. “She shredded open my stomach with her clawed hand. There was b-blood everywhere.”

Chris drops his hand to my back, sliding it underneath my tank top, so he can softly stroke my bare skin. His touch is gentle and soothing, like a calming agent, and I can’t help but let him continue gently stroking his fingers over my skin. “What kind of things was she saying to you?”

“She said she was going to kill me. That when she was done mutilating my body, she would give my corpse to Oliver as a present. Then she said Balor punished her for failing him.” My body shudders against his, and I draw in a deep breath. “What the hell, Chris? How was she able to appear in my dream? It felt so real, like she was actually killing me.”

Chris continues his agonizingly pleasureful strokes across my back, each touch divine. “I’m sure she was telling the truth. About Balor punishing her, I mean. Sounds like the bitch got what she deserved, though.” He’s still gazing down at me, his beautiful, warm brown eyes sensitive and sincere. “And Amanda can dream walk, a power bestowed upon her by Balor that allows her to infiltrate her victim’s dreams. But whatever she does to you in the dream isn’t real, Dani, no matter how real it feels and looks. She can’t actually hurt you in there.”

“Can she keep doing that?” I stammer. “Is she going to keep doing that?”

“Yes. She can enter your dreams whenever she pleases. If she pleases.” An intrigued look makes its way onto his face as I calm down. “What is this dream about anyway? The one you said is the same one you’ve had for two years. Is it a naughty dream?” His dimple made a damning appearance, so close in front of me that I could touch it if I wanted to. I desperately want to touch it.

“That’s… personal. I will neither confirm nor deny such things.” I tsk at him before turning back to my questions. “But how does Amanda have so many powers? More than you do?”

Chris’ lips thin at my blunt remark. “Remember when I said that Amanda is believed to be Balor’s chosen?” I nod. “It’s not common for a vampire to manifest as many powers as she does, so that’s why it is believed that she is one of the chosen of Balor. As a chosen, he would bless her with gifts and abilities far above the rest of those in his sire line. Those claws laced with poison that she can conjure? It is so rare that it’s almost unheard of, and, as you saw, they’re a pretty damn good weapon to have in a fight. Amanda is almost unstoppable.” His body tenses against mine, his palm stopping its gentle stroke on my back for a small second. “But, no matter how good they are in a fight, no matter how much it hurts, I’ll fight through any pain that she inflicts on me to make sure that you are safe. Always.”

The certainty in his voice sends shocks cracking and sizzling throughout my body. His words ignite me. Draw me in. They make me feel safe, and that feeling of security has liquid heat pooling low in my belly. My hands still rest gently on his chest, but as arousal courses through me, it’s more of a caress.

Beneath me, Chris goes still, sensing my shift in temperament. His cock hardens against my thigh, and his hand resumes its stroking under my shirt.

“I-I’m sorry. I just can’t.” Exhaling a weak breath, I roll away from his warm touch and slide out of the bed. I turn to face him where he’s still underneath my covers, lying on his back with a hand beneath his head as he stares at me. He almost looks disappointed in me. And truthfully, I’m disappointed too, because I already miss the feel of him against me. But I just… can’t. I refuse to give in to these desires. The last time I felt anything for a man, he cheated on me, abandoned me, and has now returned to try and kill me. Although I don’t believe Chris is anything like Oliver, I don’t know that for sure, and I just can’t bring myself to give in without that certainty.

“Why do you keep fighting your feelings for me, kitten?” His features are stern, his voice serious.

Oh, he really wants to do this right now? “What feelings?” I spit out, the words dripping in pure venom. “I do not have feelings for you.”

“You’re lying. You’re lying to me and to yourself.” Chris scowls at me. “I told you we’re connected—synced in a completely impossible way, Dani, and I know you feel it too. It’s impossible for you not to. But you continue to deny it. Ignoring it, or whatever the hell you’re doing.”

“Why do you think that we’re connected, Chris? Because I get aroused by you? Because you can smell it when I do? You think that means, what? That I’m in love with you or something? It’s just lust. Nothing more than that. Get over yourself.” My heart squeezes, twisting into knots at the absolute lie I’m telling him, but I push through. I hold my ground. I will not yield, because I can’t yield on this. Men who love me only ever hurt me, and I can’t let Chris in far enough to do that.

Before the last word of denial falls from my mouth, Chris is out of bed faster than my eyes can register, pressing me against the wall with the entire length of his body, one hand on my outer thigh, the other hand braced against the wall next to my head. His face is so close, his furious eyes locked on me, his breath on my lips. He looks and sounds downright feral as he growls at me. My body is on fire, my core instantly soaking my pajamas. Without a second thought, I place my hands on his chest and wrap my legs around his waist, holding his stare with my own.

“Sure, Dani, let’s keep pretending. Let’s pretend that your pussy isn’t soaking wet for me right now. Let’s fucking pretend that everything you’ve felt for me since the moment you laid eyes on me isn’t real. Keep pretending that when you saw me injured, you needed to save me, just as much as I needed to save you when I saw Amanda using you for fucking target practice. Pretend that the way you just instinctively wrapped yourself around me, can’t bear to be physically separated from me, is only lust.” He leans in so that our lips are almost touching. “Pretend that your heart doesn’t beat to the same song that mine does, little kitten. You think you can’t trust me, even though I’ve done nothing but prove to you that you can. That’s fine, I can play your game. Give me all your pain and sorrow from your past, baby. I can fucking take it. But. Stop. Shutting. Me. Out.” He growls the final word against my lips.

I’m completely stunned and probably couldn’t speak even if I wanted to. I know that he isn’t entirely wrong, about any of it, but I’m still too weak to admit the truth. That this is too real. That I can’t handle this. That I’m not ready for this because, less than two weeks ago, I was still drowning in depression caused by a man I loved who destroyed me. I keep coming back to that one thought—I’m not ready for him. He can’t force me to be ready for him. So I take his words to heart. I’m going to make it hurt. I pull one of my hands from his chest and caress his cheek in a loving stroke before I draw in a long, slow breath and hiss, “Then it must fucking suck that I still love Oliver.”

Instead of flinching he smirks against my mouth. The asshole fucking smirks! “Sure you do. I’ll believe it when I see it, kitten.” He lets me down, backing away as he runs his fingers through his hair.

All I can do is stand there and glare at him. When he was outside, I was used to our routine. It was nice. It was safe. Him outside of my window. Having Chris inside my house? It’s surreal and dangerous. He’s a direct threat to the secluded world that I created to protect myself and have thrived in.

I pause. But is that still true? Since Chris, I’ve found myself opening up more. I started waking up early and getting ready for the day. I don’t want to admit that I have feelings for Chris, even though I know there is something here between us. When my safety and my heart feel threatened, though, I lash out. A good therapist would probably call it a traumatic response to when I feel threatened or feel things I don’t want to. And they would probably be right because Chris definitely makes me feel… things. It’s more than just lust, even though I don’t want to admit it. He makes me smile. He makes me laugh. He comforts me, and he cares about me. He has saved me more than once.

He’s right. He has done nothing to show me that I can’t trust him. But that’s what liars do, too. They put on an act so that you trust them, so they can weasel their way into your heart and then crush it when they’re done with you. When the act is done, the curtains close, and the lights go up, and they reveal who they really are. I fell for those tricks with Oliver, and I won’t fall for them again so easily. So I’ll continue to put up my walls, because Oliver has put me through way too much for me to just willingly give my heart to another person.

The idea of moving past Oliver scares me because I still don’t have any answers from him, even though I know what happened to him. For the last two years, he’s been with Amanda, the queen of the crazy fucking bitch parade, who he fucked while I was here, rotting away in my depression and pain. With Amanda in the picture, everything I hold dear is in danger. She won’t stop until she kills me, but she mentioned that Oliver wants to take me alive even though I would have sworn that he wanted to kill me. I have a sinking feeling that things are far from over with Oliver and that if I’m ever going to move on, I’m going to have to come face-to-face with Oliver. Oliver, who haunts me every single day. I need to release the grip he holds over my mind, my heart, and my soul. If I can’t have me, then no one can.

“Nothing to say to me now, little kitten?” Chris’ focus is still intent on me.

I’m opening my mouth to answer him when I hear my phone ringing. With a sigh, I push away from Chris to grab my phone off the nightstand.

“This conversation isn’t over.”

“Yes, it fucking is,” I snap back at him as I look down at my phone. Elijah. I answer more quickly than I intend to because I am definitely done with this conversation. “Elijah! What’s up?” I force a smile to my face in an effort to show Chris that our little talk, and wall grind, had no effect on me.

Chris gives me an unimpressed look and leans against the wall. Guess it wasn’t that convincing of a smile.

“Okay, so don’t freak out,” Elijah begins. My smile fades. This can’t be good coming from Elijah.

“What did you do?” I ask sternly.

“Nothing, sweet cheeks. Well, nothing, um… yet?” He’s beating around the bush, but I can’t bring myself to be angry because he’s saving me from Chris attempting to start the conversation again.

“Elijah, spill it.” I roll my eyes.

“So, I know that we’re so totally Oliver haters right now. Rightfully so ’cause, like, fuck him. But…” My heart sinks. I’m preparing myself for the killing blow he’s about to land on me, somehow knowing deep down what he’s going to say. “Soulstorm Serenade is playing tonight at Ocean Street, and Andrew got us tickets to go. So would you hate me forever if I went with him?” He blurts out the question followed by a nervous laugh.

“What do you mean they’re playing tonight? When was this announced?” My pulse is hammering, and my blood roars in my ears. I’m panicking. This is really bad.

“It was all over social media this morning, babes. I guess it was planned, like, as a last-minute thing to officially announce their return to the scene. That’s what the news said anyway.”

“Okay, Elijah, you need to listen to me, and you need to really hear me. Okay?” I’m speaking quickly, my voice urgent. He can’t go there. I don’t know what Oliver has planned, but this has bad fucking idea written all over it. “You can’t go. I’m sorry. As your friend, I will be very upset with you. Pissed. Furious.” I’m about to have a full-blown panic attack, but I manage to force the next words out in a rush. “It’s not safe.”

Chris, who is very much listening to everything and not even trying to hide it, steps closer to me. Stopping a few feet away, he crosses his arms, a look of concern passing over his features.

When Elijah talks again, he sounds disbelieving. “What do you mean it’s not safe, Dani? It’s just a concert at a place we’ve been to over a thousand fucking times. How could that possibly be unsafe?”

“Because it just fucking is!” My voice is rising. “Oliver is dangerous. Something is seriously wrong with him. He’s different. Please just trust me, Elijah.” By the end of the sentence, I’m almost yelling, my voice demanding.

Elijah sighs heavily. “Dani, I love you. So much. But Andrew got us tickets, and I really wanna hang out with him. I promise I’ll give Oliver a piece of my mind, ’cause I have every intention of finding him and giving him hell for what he did to you.”

Tears welled behind my eyelids. I’m cracking. If Elijah goes to the concert and Oliver sees him, he’ll absolutely recognize him, and he will use Elijah to get to me. To hurt me. I bite my lip deeply, blinking quickly in an effort to stop the tears from rolling down my face.

Somehow, between blinks, Chris is in front of me, his hands on my shoulders as he mouths “mute” to me. I blink at Chris but place the phone on mute quickly.

“Dani, are you there?” Elijah’s voice echoes up to me while I stare up at Chris wide-eyed, tears threatening their escape.

“Tell him to go-” Chris mouths.

“WHAT! No, I won’t.” I cry at him, interrupting him.

“Dani!” Chris grips my shoulders tightly as he looks into my eyes. “Tell him to go because I suddenly have an itch to go to this concert with my boys, too. Hurry, tell him!” He gestures his head towards the phone.

I gasp and unmute the phone, not questioning his demand. “Eli! Go, have fun. It will be fine. I love you!” I’m practically hyperventilating when I hang up the phone before Elijah can respond and throw it onto my bed. “Oh my god, what did I just do? Chris, he can’t go! Why did I just tell him that? Oh my god!” I can’t think straight, I can barely process what just happened. I bring my hands to my face and let the tears fall, the terror and uncertainty crashing around me.

“Dani.” Chris grabs my wrists, pulling me in close to him. “Dani, I’m going. I will keep him safe. I fucking promise you. Nothing is going to happen to Elijah.”

I nod, his words piercing through my fear, then glance up at him through teary eyes. “I’m going too.”

“No, the fuck you are not. That is the last thing you are going to do. You’re gonna wait here while I go and get him.”

“No! There’s no way you’re leaving me behind. I’m going! If you make me stay here, Chris, I swear to god I will hate you forever.” I rip my wrists from his grasp and plant my feet as I face off with him. “I mean that from the bottom of my heart. If my friend dies, and I’m not there to stop it, I will never forgive you.” I’m seething, and I’m already planning my next steps if he argues with me some more.

Chris reaches out and tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear, his features softening. “Okay, but you’re staying by me the whole time. Don’t leave my sight, Dani. I mean it.”

“Okay,” I whisper to him. I steal a glance at my phone, which I threw on my bed, and decide to tell Elijah I’m coming. I dive onto my bed, grab my phone, and send a quick text to Elijah to let him know I changed my mind and I’ll see him at the show.

I have no idea where this night is going to lead us, and I’m frankly terrified, but I will not leave Elijah to get himself killed by Oliver. I won’t allow it. Even though I have a terrible feeling about this whole thing, I will walk into the devil’s nest to make sure Elijah isn’t lost to the flames. The odds are in our favor tonight, anyway. Chris and his two friends were able to take on Oliver and his whole band once before easily. Surely we can all come out of this unscathed again. I tell myself this again, and again, as we get ready to leave. By the time we head out, I almost believe it.