God. Damn. The heartfelt emotion in those words left him nonplussed.
As the silence ruled once again, he stared into the shadow created by the hood, thinking of that moment when he'd stepped out from behind that Dumpster. Then he went back farther into his memory. . . .
"You know what? I've been mad at you for years. " As she appeared to recoil, he tempered his tone. "I just couldn't believe what you did to yourself. We'd come so far, the three of us, you, me, and Darius. We were a kind of family, and I think I've always felt like you betrayed us in a way. But now. . . after I've lost all I have. . . I understand the why. I truly do. "
Her head dipped down. "Oh, Tohrment. "
He reached out and covered her hand with his own. Except then he noticed his was bloody and stained, a horrific travesty against the purity of her skin.
When he went to pull away, she held on and kept them together.
He cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess I understand why you did it. At that moment, you couldn't see anyone but yourself. It wasn't to hurt the other peopl
e around you - it was ending your own suffering because you simply couldn't fucking stand it another minute. "
There was a long moment of quiet, and then she said quietly, "When you walked out into those bullets tonight, were you trying to. . . "
"That was just about the fighting. "
"Was it?"
"Yeah. Only doing my job. "
"Given the reactions of your Brothers, they appear to think that is not in the description of duties. "
Shifting his eyes upward, he caught the reflection of them in the stainless-steel contours of the operating chandelier, him laid out and leaking, her curled in and hooded. Their forms and figures were distorted, bent, twisted out of shape because of the uneven reflecting surface, but the image was accurate in more ways than one: Their destinies had been such as to make them both grotesque.
Strangely, their two hands clasped were the clearest of all, that image being caught on a straightaway.
"I hated what I did to you last night," he blurted.
"I know. But that is no reason to kill yourself. "
True. He had more than enough cause for that from elsewhere.
Abruptly, No'One took her hood off, and he instantly zeroed in on her throat.
Shit, he wanted that vein, the one that ran up so close to the surface.
Chat time was over. The hunger was back, and it wasn't just about biology. He wanted to be at her flesh again, drinking not simply to cure his wounds, but because he liked the taste of her, and the feel of her fine skin at his mouth, and the way his fangs punctured in deep and let him take part of her into him.
Okay, maybe he'd fibbed a little about that bullet shower. He absolutely had hated hurting her - but that wasn't the only reason why he'd walked into all that lead. The truth was, she was calling something out of him, some kind of emotion, and those feelings were starting to turn gears inside of him that were rusted and cranky from lack of use.
It terrified him. She terrified him.
And yet, looking at her strained face right now, he was glad he'd come back from that alley alive. "I'm happy I'm still here. "
The breath she exhaled was relief made manifest. "Your presence eases many, and you are important in this world. You matter a great deal. "
He laughed awkwardly. "You overestimate me. "
"You underestimate yourself. "
"Ditto," he whispered.
"I'm sorry?"
"You know exactly what I mean. " He punctuated that with a squeeze of her hand, and when she didn't reply, he said, "I'm glad you're here. "