Fourteen
Kira
I want to kill him and hold him all at the same time for doing it. My rational mind argues that he has no control over these things, but my irrational mind is already digging a grave to bury him alive.
“I’m so sorry,” Prey says lamely.
He’s sorry?
He’sfuckingsorry!?
He hates me! And fate foolishly made us mates? Partners for all eternity!?
My mouth opens but nothing comes out, and I don’t even know what I could say to this asshole who is supposed to be out looking for my sister’s murderer. Not claiming mates and building white picket fences to grow old with.
“I have to go,” I turn away from him on the heels of my shoes and I hear him slowly follow behind me. “Don’t.” That one word stops him oddly in his tracks, and I don’t know why he listens, but I’m thankful that he does for once.
I just… everything is just too much right now. Why? Why would the universe make me his mate? I don’t want to be in the same room with him, much less love his arrogant, petty heart.
Fuck!
I storm up a set of stairs on the opposite side from where we entered the croft.
I haven’t studied the church much, aside from peering through some stained glass windows, and I need to clear my head. Everyone will be resting soon. And while they rest, I’ll be doing what I came here for.
Finding my sister’s killer.
The staircase here is more ornate than the other cripplingly thin set of stairs. They must be a newer renovation. They twist upward while a pretty metal rail with grooves etched into it guides me toward the upper levels. It’s lit by glowing red lights that shine across the tips of my pointed shoes with every step I take.
A large hall opens up at the top. To the right is a small sort of library that spans across an upper level. Books line the walls on all sides. It’s a room decorated with rows and stacks of literature. It’s painted in shades of biography and fiction, with accents of collected poems. My heart dips and leaps and dips again, all at the same time. I know Kyra would have loved it as much as I do.
The enormous room is quiet and empty, save for a forgotten glass that rests on the mantel above a large burning fire. The embers crackle and I’m tempted to step into the room and stay a while,but my feet keep moving.
Unsure of what I’m supposed to be looking for, I simply map the building out and take mental notes of the layout as I go.
The following room is a large bathroom, and I would pass it by as well, but a glowing display of red lipsticks catches my eye. Various shades and luxury brands of all kinds line each side of the large mirror. The lights above the sink flash on the moment I step in front of it. And then I look up at what I know I’ll see.
My long blonde hair is still tied swiftly back, minus a few strands that came loose during the nap in my death bed. My eyes and features seem brighter beneath the blinding white lights of the vanity.
As does the small red marking that has appeared just an inch below my ear. A heart.
It’s literally a fucking heart.
Intricate lines slide through the middle of the shape, and they drip down in different lengths and columns in a modernly artistic way.
It’s… goddamn it, it’s cute.
Fuckingadorableeven!
I hate it.
I close my eyes slowly and wonder what it truly means to be a vampire’s mate. Prey said mates can share powers, but I don’t feel particularly powerful.
There’s a tingling like the numbing sensation of static through my arms and down my fingertips.
“Fuck!” I hiss as I try to shake off the weird feeling crawling up my shoulders.
I fling open the black cabinet on the wall and my hands clatter against the bottles of perfume and makeup kept in there. When I find what I’m looking for, I slam the cabinet closed and start shaking out the contents of the pale bottle.
