Blood Ties Book Four: All Souls' Night. Jennifer Armintrout
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this ridiculous jealousy. I’d lost Nathan once—okay, probably countless times by now—and I didn’t feel like doing it again.
“He asked me to meet him. Back in Grand Rapids. I’d ask you to go, but as you said, it might be—”
“A trap?” I forced the hands I’d placed on my hips firmly down to avoid appearing too confrontational. “You think?”
“My son is alive. And I’m going to go get him.” His eyes were hard, daring me to argue with him further.
I don’t respond well to dares. “Don’t be stupid! Nathan, how much time has gone by? Why didn’t he contact you before now? You know that if you go after him, you’re going to end up dead. You’re not thinking!”
“No, I’m not thinking about you!” He threw the crossbow down and it bounced with an earsplitting clatter on the marble floor. “You’re pissed off because for a moment, my focus isn’t on you. I’ve been Carrie-centric nonstop since the first night we met! How much longer do you expect me to hang on to you while you punish me?”
“Punish you?” The shrillness of my voice startled me. “Why am I punishing you?”
“I don’t know! But ever since you came to Chicago with Max you’ve done nothing but punish me. I’m sorry, okay? Does that end this asinine vendetta you’ve had against me? I’m sorry that I couldn’t love you at first sight and give up my memories of my wife and give up my love for my son. I’m sorry I couldn’t get myself together for you on your time!”
“That’s not what this is about!” I followed him as he stalked into the kitchen, barely caught the door before it swung back to slam into my face. “What have I done to you?”
He spun, face contorted in rage. “You slept with Cyrus! I’m not an idiot, and I can read your mind. You slept with Cyrus while I was possessed, then you left for Chicago because you thought we needed time apart. And when I came back, ready to tell you that, yes, I love you and I want to be with you, you ran off and you fucking sired him!”
“I didn’t have a choice!” The fight had become like some sick exploratory surgery, cutting through scar tissue to see how deep it ran. I’d thought we were finished fighting over Cyrus, but Ziggy’s sudden return from the grave seemed to have opened all kinds of old wounds.
I knew what he would come back at me with even as he spoke the words. “You did it because you wanted to. You get so lost and so desperate when the focus of someone else’s life shifts from you, and you’ll do anything to get it back. If you’re constantly pulling me in two directions, begging me to be with you, pushing me away, then you’ve got your captive audience.” His voice dropped, deadly soft in the deafening quiet of the room. “Now, I’ve helped you when no one else could. I helped you through your change. I helped you when you turned your back on me to go to Cyrus, and it cost me my son. I even helped you mourn his murderer. I’ve never asked for anything in return from you, but I’m damned sure you wouldn’t give it, even if I did. So, I’m taking. I’m taking my focus off of you, to go and get my son and bring him here where he will be safe, with me. You can be as jealous as you want. You can hate me. But I’m not giving you anything else.”
He went to the door without his weapons, just blind fury and determination, and left.
I wanted to run after him, to scream at him, but not to warn him of danger or assert that I had been right in the argument. Because just his mention of Cyrus had opened the blood tie I’d had to him in my mind. There was no connection at the other end. Cyrus was dead, lost in the watery blue world where vampires went when they died. It was raw, almost physically painful, like a severed nerve straining to reconnect with its missing end. Coupled with the stress already building in me, it bowled me over. I had to brace myself against the rail as I nearly fell down the stairs to the third-floor guest rooms. Everything was wrong. Surreal.
I stormed into the bedroom and stared in outrage at the curtains, the bed, the television. How dare those objects exist while I was in pain? How dare the drapes hang so perfectly, almost cheerfully stirring in the breeze from the central air?
The last time I’d been in Chicago, I’d been staying with Max, nursing my broken heart over Nathan. I’d been mourning then, too. Mourning my broken connection with Nathan, still mourning the loss of my normal life. And it was here, in this very room, that I’d called Cyrus, heard his voice.
I would never hear him again. Never hear the way his soft, cultured accent turned my name into a sinful prayer against my ear. Never feel his body pressed to mine. But it was more than just a sexual connection. I’d never been able to do the things I’d longed to when he was alive. I wanted to sit and dream of a future with him without thinking I was twisted. I wanted to lie in his arms and feel safe, not as though I should be on guard.
And I wanted Nathan. I would never stop wanting a life with him. I was torn in so many different directions at once, I wanted so many things that I couldn’t have, could never have had even if circumstances had been perfect. And it made me angrier than I’d ever been before.
The pain and the rage built up inside me, forcing my mouth open in a silent scream. My chest constricted, allowing only a tiny breath to escape in a thin, high wail. It grew and deepened as the pain deepened, until I was screaming, and I rushed at the curtains, yanking them down. They tore easily, too easily, and I turned to the bed, my empty hands spasming open and closed until they fell on the duvet cover. I threw it from the bed, shredded it with my fingers, pulled handfuls of blanket and sheets away from the mattress. All the while I screamed, my chest caving in, my heart breaking all over. It would never end. I would feel this horrible feeling forever, I was sure.
My hands actually trembled from the force of the emotions that had been loosed, and I pressed my forehead to the carpet, feeling my cold breath bouncing back at me to chill the tears on my cheeks. There was more to think of now than my pain. Nathan’s words had hurt. Not because he’d said them in anger, but because every one of them was true. I was selfish, I was jealous. I’d just never realized how deeply.
Had I slept with Cyrus that night in the van because I was genuinely disturbed by Nathan’s suffering as he lay, possessed by his sire, upstairs? Or had I done it because I knew, in some dark part of my heart, that he would get better and the whole nasty business would come to light? And when it hadn’t, at least, not right away, I’d run away with Max and almost slept with him, as well. And when none of that had worked, when Nathan had still seemed so close to giving me what I’d thought I’d wanted from him, I’d turned one of his worst enemies into my fledgling, brought him into Nathan’s home.
All the while, I’d accused him of not being understanding, blamed him for making my life complicated. My God, had I ever been responsible for my own actions? Ever, in my entire life?
I dropped my head in my hands and let the tears come, beat myself down with memories of Nathan’s kindness in the face of my selfishness. When I’d run from him, he’d pursued. When I’d destroyed things between us, again and again, he’d always been willing to rebuild. And I’d abused that, pushing further every time, trying to push him past the breaking point.
He’d broken, finally. I’d pushed him far enough, and he’d pushed back. I’d sent him running headfirst into a trap because I couldn’t stop being so caught up in my own drama to support him in his.
The buzzer sounded, and my head snapped up. I ran to the foyer, mashed the intercom button and spoke, not caring how desperate my voice sounded. “Nathan?”
“No, it’s Bill.” He sounded embarrassed for me. “I left my cooler here. Can I come up and get it?”
“Yes, of course.” I let go of the button, my mind racing. Nathan had walked into a trap, I was sure of it. And it was time for me to stop being selfish.
It was time for me to save Nathan, for a change.
“Well?” Dahlia tapped her foot. She wore those stupid slippers with the feather stuff around the toes, like she was some old-time movie star.