I woke up in the morning feeling better than I had in days. Brynna lived up to her promise and made love to me even though I wasn’t hurt. She sucked my blood from the spot on my neck we both liked, and I came inside of her, hard. I hadn’t used a condom with her, and while I wasn’t worried about protecting myself, the guilt of knowing I might have left her pregnant seeped into my general feeling of post-sex bliss.
I kissed her temple. “Brynna, we have totally taken no precautions. This is all on me. Do you want to go see Margot?”
She shook her head. “Not fertile. I haven’t had a period since I came back to myself and stopped wanting to kill everyone.”
Well, that was good. We took our time getting out of bed, and I watched as she dressed. Brynna was everything I loved about women. The curves. The long lines. The graceful movements. The way she was small yet strong.
I tugged on my shirt and had the benefit of seeing her blush at my admiration. We were heading back down to get to the scientists. This easy morning wouldn’t last long. I intended to enjoy every second of it.
We’d left the tent and were headed back to the underground entrance when Deacon’s shout stopped me from going any further. I turned to see my best friend and his wife running toward us.
“Do you need help? Lydia and I can sneak away.” Deacon panted. We all had to work on our cardio. This was getting ridiculous. Sometimes, we had to run for our lives.
Brynna went stiff beside me. I glanced at her and then Deacon. “No, you’re in charge now. You can’t go sneaking off.”
I smiled at Lydia. She had been just what Deacon always needed but hadn’t known he’d needed. “I think we’re okay. Lydia, have you met Brynna. Brynna, Lydia.”
My mate—and it was weird to think that—extended her hand, and Lydia shook it. “Hello,” Lydia remarked and Brynna returned. I didn’t know what was going on, but there was tension.
“Deacon,” Brynna finally said, “it’s so nice of you to offer to help us. I wouldn’t think you would want to be anywhere near me.”
Why? I turned to ask her when a memory hit me. It was what Brynna described. I suddenly picked up a vision—a memory—as though it floated through the air to reach me. I saw Deacon. He was a baby, yet I knew it was him. He rolled a truck to another toddler and laughed. It must have been Brynna’s eyes I viewed this through. She was so unbelievably sad. Bad things happened in the world. She couldn’t save anyone from the bloodlust when it came. Inside her mind, she screamed at the top of her lungs.
I blinked, and I was back in my body. My heart raced. How did Brynna live with memories like that? How many did she hold on to with so much guilt? I turned to her, uncaring if Deacon and Lydia were present. “It’s not like you could control it.”
She visibly swallowed. “I wanted to. I wanted to die, okay? I’d have done anything not to be a Vampire.”
Deacon looked between us. “Look, since I’ve had time to sit with the idea you’re sick, that people who are Vampires are sick, I’ve had some time to consider none of it was any of your fault.”
“That’s very big of you, Deacon. I blame myself for a lot of it. See, the thing is, I don’t really remember becoming a Vampire. I wasn’t. Then I was. I have this vague recollection of news reports. I don’t know what happened to my family. They’re not in Vampire memories, so they’re dead not changed.”
I shook my head to Deacon. I wasn’t going to explain what she meant right then. She continued. “I was one of the beings that hurt all of you. There’s no making up for it. Even if I wasn’t really me during that time. I can remember it. I’m sorry.”
Lydia put her hand on Deacon’s arm. “You saying you’re sorry and giving us a sense of things is more than we expected. It’s okay, Brynna. You’re forgiven.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I never will be.”
Her pain was my own, and all I wanted was to get her away from it. “Thanks, guys. We’re going to go.”
How much could she blame herself? I wasn’t in her head. I couldn’t know how much she could have prevented, if anything. All I knew was the past was past. She was as much a victim in this as the rest of us.
I held her hand tightly, and we didn’t speak until we got to the hole. I stared at her. “What was it like to need to feed like that? The bloodlust?”
“All encompassing.” She didn’t hesitate. “It was like I was always lost in a wave of memories, they weren’t a bad place to be, and then you’re rushed back into your head. You have a few minutes of clarity, to know who you are, where you are, what you are, and what you’ve been doing in the time you’ve been lost to reality. Somehow, your body did things while you weren’t conscious, and then boom! The bloodlust hits and suddenly you have to get your hit of the blood, and it has to be the stuff with the addictive properties in it, that the scientists see to it that all humans have one way or another, and you’re running through the dark. Conscious, aware, and out of control.”
Well… didn’t that sound like a special kind of hell?