Devil’s Valley, Bridgeport,
Present Day...
Days after his talk with Kali, Draegan was still in a dark mood.
He sat at the piano and played Monday, a favorite of his, composed by Ludivico Enaudi.
It had been a while since he’d played and he’d grown rusty. He hit a few chords too quickly and missed notes in some parts. After a while he got impatient and angry and he slammed his fists on the keys, the sound resonated around the empty room.
“Why did you stop?” She asked from behind him.
He’d sensed her there the whole time, and he’d hoped if he ignored her she’d go away. But she’d surprised him with her quiet persistence; she’d stuck it out, listened to him fumble and make a mess, never saying a word the whole time.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He ignored her question.
She laughed. A soft, breathy sound.
Draegan turned to her. And there it was again, that sensation, like he was flying through time and space, freefalling through a thousand floors and the ground was rushing up to meet him.
“No,” She smiled, showing her pearly whites, her blue eyes dancing mischievously. “Shouldn’t you?”
“I’m having trouble sleeping.” Draegan confessed. He stared at the ground, suddenly tongue tied and unsure of himself, he had no idea why he’d told her that.
“I was-”
“You should-” They both spoke at the same time. They laughed. Smiled. And then slipped into another round of awkward silence.
“You first,” Draegan said at last, forcing himself to look at her again.
Her eyes were odd. They were an unusual shade of blue and he was drawn to them; they reminded him of the ocean on a clear summer’s day; they made him think of a darkening sky on a stormy night.
He wanted to reach up and touch them, caress his thumb on her lower lip, run his hands through her thick, luscious locks.
“Bloody hell,” he swore at the direction his thoughts were taking.
She stepped away from him, suddenly scared.
Draegan put up his hands, silently explaining to her he meant no harm, and it wasn’t her he was frustrated with. His talk with Kali and Ophelia had rattled him more than he cared to admit.
“I couldn’t sleep. I was on my way to the kitchen to get something to drink when I heard you play. Kali said I can come and go as I please,” she finished off weakly.
Draegan wondered what else Kali had told her; he wondered just how much the girl knew about them.
He took her hand and immediately let go of it, dropping it quickly, surprised by the spark he’d felt. He looked at her questioningly, wondering if she’d felt it too.
It was crazy, the way she had him falling to pieces all over her like this. She had him in knots, and he was drawn to her in a way he didn’t want or understand. Being around her was all he wanted to do since he first heard her voice, but his instinct told him to run and get as far away from her as possible.
“I’m going to go back downstairs now,” she announced. He noticed a slight lisp in her words and the small gap between her front teeth. It was cute and strange and sexy, all at once. And she was a child, he reminded himself.
“No, let’s get you something to drink,” he insisted, taking her hand once more. This time he squeezed it gently, holding on for dear life, he didn’t want to let her go.
He gently sat her at the table and looked through the fridge. It was empty except for a few blood packs. He doubted she’d want to drink blood. Better not suggest it. He told himself.
“Here’s the thing, we are out of juice,” he lied. They never kept any juice. They never kept food either. “Will a glass of water be fine for now?”
She nodded, gratefully accepting the glass of tap water.
He watched her take tentative sips, his pale eyes taking in everything about her, from the upright, almost regal-like way she sat in the uncomfortable chair, to the dainty way she held the glass.
Everything about her screamed class and wealth, like she came from a good home, went to a decent school, did all the things rich people do. But the bruises on her face said otherwise.
He wondered what she’d gotten herself into. Someone had wanted her dead. And Draegan wanted to know why. He knew they should probably talk about that, and he should ask her about herself and her home…
“I don’t remember,” she spoke suddenly, carefully placing the glass on the table.
Draegan gulped. He had a shocked, almost confused look in his eyes. He knew it was impossible, she couldn’t read his thoughts, but it was so weird, the way she announced that right after he’d thought of interrogating her. Interesting.
“What don’t you remember?” He asked gently, still leaning against the fridge, watching a thin ring of moisture form under the glass.
“Everything.” She added softly.
No, no, no. An unfamiliar voice screamed inside his head as he watched her lower lip shake, He knew any second now she’d start crying. He wished she wouldn’t. He wasn’t good with women and tears.
“It’s okay,” he smiled, trying his best not to show his fangs.
“It’s not okay. I don’t know what my name is. I don’t know where I am or why I’m here. Why can’t I remember? Who am I?” She asked him.
Draegan tried to say something, but no words came out. He had no idea what to say to her. But it was obvious, from the expectant look in her eyes she was waiting for an answer, some direction and guidance, and it made him sad to know he couldn’t help her. He was as clueless as she was, he had no sense of direction, had no clue where to take their conversation.
“Kali said it will come back to me,” she sighed. A lone tear trickled down her cheek, and he swiftly knelt in front of her to catch it, but it had already dropped and left a small stain on her shirt, one of his old ones actually, it looked good on her. He wondered if she liked his scent on the shirt. Did she even know it was his? Did she care? At that moment he so desperately wanted her to care.
His thumb trailed her lower lip; his palm caressed her face as he greedily fulfilled his earlier desires.
They stayed like that for a spell. He couldn’t separate himself from her, his hand lingering longer than it should, his heart longing for things he had no business yearning for. And she softly cried for all the things she couldn’t remember.
“Well, well, well! What do we have here?” Imogene hissed as she walked into the kitchen, breaking the spell between them.
Like a naughty boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar, Draegan sprung back from the girl, and stared at Imogene guiltily.
“She couldn’t sleep,” he told her defensively.
“And of course you were helping her sleep,” Imogene spat at him. She didn’t wait for his answer; she went straight to the fridge, retrieved what she came for and quickly left the room.
Alone again, Draegan tried to recreate their earlier warmth but it was gone. Imogene’s venomous words had killed it.
“Come, let’s get you upstairs, you need to rest,” he told her, holding out his hand for her…
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Special thanks to Karima for her picture editing skills!
