Distraught, I stared straight ahead, my mind spinning, my lungs pressing in on themselves.
Every image rushed through my head, one after the other.
The figures in the basement.
The memory of that horrid voice scorching my mind, the hand on my mouth, the smell of pine and smoke, the hand on my thigh?—
The faceless beasts. Moments jammed together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle I couldn’t quite place. My teeth chattered; I tucked my knees to my chest, trying to keep warm.
My mind had blocked it for the longest time to try to protect me. It was still trying to protect me as best it could.
I clutched my hands over my face. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
I didn’t want to deal with the questions. I couldn’t tolerate the thought of seeing Karson again. I couldn’t tolerate the thought of seeing the sympathy in any of their eyes, or worse, pity.
I needed to escape. I needed to deal with it myself. I needed to fall apart in private and to pull myself together before I had to see anyone.
“I need to go,” I rasped, barely holding back another sob. “I don’t want to be here right now.”
Monique straightened and stared at the window as if debating.
My eyes welled with fresh tears. “Please.”
She looked back and sighed. “Pack a bag. We can go for a night or two.”
“I need to be on my own,” I whispered.
Monique’s brow flickered. “You’re in no shape to drive.”
“Monique,” it came out like a whine. “I?—”
She held up a hand. “But I have a little cabin by a lake not too far from here. There are trees and birds and not much else. No one knows about it … I may be able to leave you …” She sighed again, resigned. “Karson is going to murder me.”
Chapter 47
Darkness Always Rises
The cabin was not a cabin at all, but a double-story house. It was all wooden with full-length windows that allowed views across the lake and forest. The inside was modern, with the latest appliances and a roaring fireplace. There were no houses for miles. No people. No vampires. No witches. The air was fresh, crisp.
And still it felt like I could barely breathe.
Monique placed two paper bags loaded with groceries on the counter. “This should be enough to get you through for a few days. There are condiments already in the cupboards.”
“Condiments for a vampire?” My voice sounded raw.
“I have human company sometimes.” She brushed off my question.
Of course she would … to fuck, to feed.
I rubbed at my sore eyes and plonked on the couch.
She switched on the kettle, then leaned her hip against the bench. “I know what you went through was obviously awful.” Her voice was so soft and filled with compassion, I lifted my head up. “I was abused as a child by a man old enough to be my father. I know what it does to your heart, to your soul, how it shatters your innocence and rebuilds who you are inside.”
My throat had dried. I swallowed. “How did you get through it?” I whispered.
Monique stared out of the window at the fading rays of day. “One second at a time mostly.” She met my eyes again, and in hers was something cold, determined. “When I was turned, I hunted him down and made him suffer like he made me suffer. I took the warped parts of him and rearranged them so he’d feel a little of how I felt. Then I killed him.”
“Did it help?”
