Page 66 of Blood Lovers

And here I am trying to decide.

No. I’m not, actually. My decision has been made because while all this internal conflict has been happening, I’ve been driving and I’m now pulling into the parking space in front of Ryet’s cottage.

I’m going to stay and I’m going to help him, and once he’s feeling better, I’m going to tell him exactly who I am and whatever happens after that… well. Then it happens.

I get out, grab my little bag of tea, and open the cottage door.

It’s not bright outside by any means. But it’s a lot brighter than it is in here because the blackout curtains that cover the only window are closed.

It’s one moment. That’s it. One moment of confused blindness as my eyes adjust.

I close the door behind me. And then, just half a moment later, my eyes adjust to the low-level light and I realize I just made a fatal mistake.

The vampire is sitting in the bed next to Ryet, back up against the headboard, flipping through soundless porn channels on the TV.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN - RYET

You exist.

I stagger out of the bar, so drunk I can’t even focus my eyes. I crash into the cinderblock wall as I cut the corner into the alley, then stumble away from it, my boots shuffling through a puddle.

They’re gone. My entire family—just gone.

And I’m still here.

Why?

That’s what I’ve been asking myself since the fire at the church burned them alive. No one else, just them.

He wants me to think it was God, but it wasn’t God. It was him. The Devil has been following me for weeks.

So when I look up, focus my eyes as best I can, and see him—in all his evil glory. Wings, and teeth, and grotesque face—I am not even afraid.

I hold my arms out wide, practically begging him to take me.

Because who cares?

They are all gone.

My life is over.

The next thing I know he’s right up next to me. Holding me, like we’re lovers about to kiss. I know time has passed. I know I’ve been talking to him. I also know I’m giving in.

And now he’s asking me a question. “Are you sure?”

I’ve been looking into his eyes and they are not the evil I was expecting. Oh, he’s ugly as fuck and doesn’t smell very good, either. But his eyes—there’s something behind them. Something hidden.

In my drunken state, I imagine it could be a soul.

“Ryet.”

“That’s not my name.” I slur the words like a drunk.

“It is now. Listen to me. I need you to be sure. I need you to make this choice of your own free will. I need you to see me. Look at me.”

His command comes out harsh and sharp and suddenly I find myself looking at him.

“No. Look at me.”