240

~Carmen~

I startle awake.

Blinking my eyes, I lift my chin from my knees and push through the stiffness in my neck to turn my head. Searching for whatever it was that disturbed me.

But there’s nothing here. I push out of my little hideout into my room. Sunlight is streaming through the curtains. My phone is on the wardrobe floor, where I dropped it.

Nothing is out of place. I’m completely alone.

Sagging with relief, I let out a breath. It must have been a dream. He’s not here. He didn’t somehow break in while I slept.

Sitting on my bed, I let my lashes lower, beginning to ease into sleep once again, but then I remember I can’t stay here. I need to get up. I need to move.

Who knows how much time has passed? How much time have I already wasted?

Jolting again, I open my eyes and look to the window, studying the sunlight. Given how weak it is, it must still be early morning. Which means I only passed out for a few minutes.

Thank God.

There’s still plenty of time to plan my escape. There’s still plenty of daylight left to get to another city.

But I feel like I just got run over by an evil dump truck that backed up and did it again.

Despite the way my body aches, all my bits and pieces seem to be intact. Reaching up, I touch my neck. My fingers, searching for and failing to find where I was bitten.

I healed!

How?

I wish I had the time, I would have sought answers. But I don’t…

Dropping my arm, I glance at the window again. Trying to gauge the time. It must be after seven. That gives me approximately nine hours.

Eight, if he has the power to move around before the sun fully sets.

Knowing time is on my side, I give myself a few more seconds to rest. After the night I had and the lack of sleep, Lord knows I need it.

I’m surprised I’m still alive, to be honest. And not because I spent all night dealing with vampires. I’m surprised I haven’t suffered from a heart attack.

The stress of the entire situation was nearly unbearable...  My heart twinges even now with pain from racing too fast. At least I hope it’s the stress that’s causing the pain...

I lift my arm to tug my hair behind my ear and instantly cringe at the sweaty smell from my armpit as a result of the crazy activities of last night.

I stop and consider ignoring it, but the thought of running around all day covered and reeking of old sweat turns my stomach.

Who knows when I’ll get another chance to get clean?  Telling myself I need to give Kennedy time to get here anyway, I slide over to the bathroom and proceed with cleaning myself up.

Getting out of the bathroom, I remember that I'm the only one home. That pushes my thought to Marielle.

Marielle... I’ll need to go back to the dumpster and get her.

Sitting back on the bed, with my barely dry skin, I close my eyes and flashes of last night's happening spark behind my closed lids.

Elder Felix looming over me with a wicked blade held in his hand… Dargo, standing in the living room… The blank expression on Marielle’s face… Oscar's red eyes…

My god!

Zegulf’s face suddenly sears into my vision, and hot, needy desire surges through my veins.

Forcing my eyes open, I wait for the fiery liquid ache to fade away. But it lingers, like a strong echo.

An echo of what I felt when our gazes first met. Panting, I try to redirect my thoughts away from him.

Pulling up images of everything I find awful and distasteful. Bee swarming together on someone's face, spiders spinning webs in the kitchen, Snakes bulging as they swallow prey whole.

But nothing works. My brain keeps going back to the moment I saw his face, back to the sheer power of his presence and beauty. A beauty that even now makes me want to scream.

I hear his voice in my head. I feel the force of his longing.

“Let me in.”

The desperation... Oh God, the desperation. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s the desperation one must feel when they know they’re dying and clinging to their last breath.

Does he want me that badly? Does he want me so bad he’s dying because

of it? He’s not dying, I quickly remind myself.

He’s just trying to tempt me. I will not let him, dammit. I can’t. I refuse to.

I launch into the first prayer that comes to my mind. A prayer so ingrained in me that I can say it in my sleep. When I reach the end, I jump into another one, a prayer of protection.

After praying and still feeling like I’ll combust at any second, my mark and pussy both throbbing in sync with each other, I recite more prayers.

Frustration and despair begin to set in when I reach the end of my fourth prayer and still feel no relief.

I’m empty... so hollow and empty. And divine words are not filling me. My stomach clenches hard at the thought of what could fill me, and I start to cry.

Either god has abandoned me, or I’ve asked Him for too much help. Either way, I’m screwed because there’s no way I can live the rest of my life like this.

Not without going crazy because I really want to be touched so bad by the man Dargo called Zegulf.

I want to feel his hands on my body. His lips against my lips. I want to know if his name is really Zegulf.

So, I can moan it in his mouth.

Memories of my dreams begin to fog up my head. The way he pushed his body into my body. The speed and brute strength behind his hips. The way he bit my neck.

Fingers squeezing my mattress so hard, I bury my face in my bedsheets. “Please....” I groan to myself, to the heavens, to him.