We stepped into the carriage. It rocked and made a cracking sound as we sat down, like its bones had just snapped. The boy, who I deemed couldn’t possibly be highly trained, clicked a chain across us, it looked like it’d be more at home on the neck of a chihuahua. I felt my stomach tighten.
“You might enjoy the ride a little more if you breathe,” Karson said, as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I glared at him and sucked a breath in through my teeth. The carriage groaned as if protesting our weight and, with a jerk, it orbited upwards. My heart began to race.
“So, you’re scared of the dark and heights, but not vampires? Makes perfect sense.”
“Stop it,” I growled.
“I will not let you fall.”
We began to rise in the air, my stomach bunched up, twirled, and knotted.
“If the carriage falls, I’m not sure how you could stop it,” I said anxiously, as we rose even higher. If we fell now I’d break a bone. Or ten. I squeezed my eyes closed and took a few deepsbreaths. I heard him chuckle. I opened my eyes and stared at the denim of my jeans, like it was whispering some kind of universal secret to me. If I didn’t look, I figured I could forget about the height.
“I’d leap out with you in my arms before we ever hit the ground,” he answered. “Like this.” Before I knew what was happening, he had his arm under my legs and was lifting me up off the seat. The carriage rocked and groaned. I let out a horrified squeal, clutching my fingernails into his waist as the carriage jolted to a stop to let someone else on. We swayed precariously back and forth. He lowered me back down and laughed.
“You’re not funny,” I snapped, feeling a mixture of apprehension and nerves, and also a web of excitement in the pit of my stomach. We lurched upwards again. My belly see-sawed, my fingers clasped so tightly to his thigh they were stark white. My other hand tightened like a vice around the white steel frame. When we rose to the top, the carriage halted and swayed back and forth, back and forth. My heart pumped and my breath came out fast and shallow. I thought I might hyperventilate.
“Amelia, look over there.” His voice was silken and calm. I followed his gaze out to the treetops in the distance, the moon’s halo capturing the tops of their outline against the pitch of the night sky. A thousand tiny stars speckled in the background and expanded as far as the eye could see.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
“I could not agree more.”
There was a huskiness to his voice that made me look at him. He wasn’t looking at the stars. He was looking at me. His eyes smoked in the dark, he was serene and devastatingly handsome. Our lips caressed, and I forgot about the height we were at, the people below. There was no noise but the pulse of my blood in my head.
The carriage churned forward and jolted me back to reality. His lips left mine and I felt giddy, whether it was from the kiss or the height, I didn’t know. It stopped again just a few metres forward. Up there with the heaven-born diamonds that sparkled against black velvet like a perfectly designed background from Aphrodite, I almost told him I loved him. The words formed in my mind, moved to my mouth and got stuck against the back of my teeth. The cognitive part of my mind shunted away from revealing the truth. The trepidation of an unfavorable response transcended the deepest of my desires. Maybe one day soon, I’d tell him I loved him, and maybe, just maybe, he’d respond in like.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” he asked, as I relaxed a little under his hold.
“Not too bad at all.” I peered up at him, holding his hand rested on my shoulder. “The ride’s okay too,” I added.
He smiled and snuck in a kiss on my cheek as the boy opened the chain for us at the bottom with a crooked grin.
Chapter 63
Black Death
Under a multitude of colored lights, but sufficiently shadowed by the dark, dressed in all black, Black Death sauntered through the crowd. She kept her head tilted down, her hood curtaining her face, not that anyone would recognize her. The hazel-colored contact lenses, long, brown wig, makeup so thick her complexion was buried. She was unrecognizable. Her smell was the only thing which might alert him of her presence, but she was smart enough to stay downwind. The breeze blew in from the north, as long as she positioned herself on the south side and hung back, he’d never know she was there.
The scent of fear tinged the air. The delicious scent intoxicated her senses. The sounds of their high-pitched screams split the cool night and electrified her body. She looked to the north and watched as a girl with long, strawberry hair was tossed from side to side on one of the rides, screaming. Her friend had her head tilted up to the sky, laughing. Her pallid throat was slender and unblemished. She fantasized briefly about leaping into the air, landing in the cart and ripping her neck apart. Thosedays were long gone. Too many happy snapping mobile phones kept the urge at bay.
Patience.
She stalked behind, watching as he walked arm in arm with the girl. He liked her, at least as much as she was probably a good feed for him. Her smell was sweet, succulent, a mixture of honey, with a touch of spice, like fresh cinnamon. It would draw any vampire to her scent. She wondered how he resisted taking a little too much. But then, he did always have a willpower stronger than most. He was stronger in every sense. Bastard.
She never felt inferior, far from it, but she was no match for him physically, not directly, at least. Like a game of chess, this contest would be won in the strategy of every move she made prior to the queen cornering the king. She paused to listen. She blocked out all other sounds. She heard them speak but what they said fell to a level below even her hearing.
The girl’s breath drew her attention. It fell rapidly from her lips, misted into the air and vanished. It was if the white haze was a visual prompt, as lurid as the fog rising from a shaman’s ritualistic cauldron. It was a reminder of the girl’s immortality, begging to be diminished.
Yes.
A chance to screw some angst into him, if for nothing but fun, should not be forsaken. He would be ropeable if someone under his watch was killed, the erosion of his God-like status would last momentarily. But to see the rage on his face, would be worth it.
The power of the notion enhanced her resolve. Power by acquisition, power earned, was almost better than power gifted by what she was. She could almost taste the girl now. The divine palatable taste of retribution. Saliva dripped into her mouth. She swallowed.
Black Death ducked her head down and strode forward, turning into an alleyway between two tents. Slinking under the cover of the shadows.
With a tantalizing anticipation, she waited.
