Callie’s hand flew to her mouth. “That’s horrible! How old were you?”
“I was thirty-five; he was thirty-three. The weak, pitiful coward barely fought against becoming a Savage after he reached maturity.”
Callie tried not to let her fear get the best of her as his increased hostility vibrated against her skin. She’d only been around one other man who was ever this mad, and it had not ended well for her. There was nowhere for her to run, and he’d catch her before she made it ten feet.
He’s not mad at you. Still, it didn’t matter. She couldn’t control the anxiety building in her chest or the cold sweat breaking out on her body. Stop being afraid! She shouted the command at herself, but she wished it was so simple.
She swallowed the lump in her throat before speaking. “What do you mean by reached maturity?”
“I’m a purebred vampire, and so is he, which means I was born this way. Most vamps are turned into a vampire by another vampire. Both my parents were vampires. Being a purebred means I’m stronger than a turned vamp, but when a purebred vampire reaches maturity and stops aging, it is more difficult for us to restrain ourselves from killing. We have… darker needs than a turned vamp.”
Something about the way he said needs sent another shiver down her spine at the same time as it caused more butterflies to erupt in her stomach. You’re losing your mind.
Unfortunately, she thought this was true.
“Such as?” she prompted.
“Such as some, like me, need to kill and unleash violence to maintain control.”
He felt her recoil from him a little, but he didn’t temper his words. She’d asked, and he found himself telling her the truth in a way he never had with any other before. It was wrong, he was revealing too much information, but she’d never use it against him or any of the others.
Even if she fell into the hands of the Savages again—something he was never going to let happen—her knowledge couldn’t cause them any damage. And she could never reveal any of this to the human world and not expected to be treated like she was insane.
“But you said you don’t kill innocents,” she whispered.
“I don’t. I maintain control by hunting and killing Savages.” In brutal, satisfying ways, but he kept that to himself. “Many purebred vampires fight their more volatile instincts, but others are weak and turn Savage.”
“I see,” she murmured. “And your brother didn’t fight his instincts.”
“Not for very long, and barely at all. Yannis was always weak, but I never expected that from him. My parents didn’t love us, but they were our parents. I was never quite sure why they had children. They weren’t in love with each other, and they didn’t enjoy having children, that much was obvious, but they reproduced three times. However, I don’t think they knew the insidious desires male, purebred children harbored; otherwise, they probably would have killed Yannis and me at birth.”
“That’s horrible!” Callie cried.
Lucien shrugged. “They were not loving.” It was a giant understatement, but he wasn’t going to go into more detail about it now.
“Is it only males who experience these urges?” she asked.
“Most often, though, the females can have trouble too.”
“What happened after your brother killed your family?” she asked.
Lucien stared into the dark as he recalled the horrible moment when he returned home to discover Yannis’s carnage. “He slaughtered my parents while they slept. I discovered them in bed, but Coralie must have woke during the attack and tried to flee. I found her near the front door.”
She didn’t know if he was aware of it, but his voice had become deeper and rougher as he spoke about his sister. Grief clouded his words. It hadn’t been there when he talked about his parents or brother, but it was there about his sister.
Lucien closed his eyes as fresh sadness swelled in his chest. It was as if he were kneeling at Coralie’s side again and brushing back her hair to reveal her pale, beautiful face. The blood pooling beneath her still body formed a puddle.
“Coralie was beautiful and sweet and so loving,” he murmured.
She was the only one, until Ronan found him and he became a Defender, who ever gave a shit about him. Her laugh was contagious, her smile lit up a room, and her beautiful violet eyes always twinkled. She devoured every form of knowledge she could get her hands on and would talk for hours about the things she read.
She’d loved him, and he loved her. When they were young, they would often spend their days sitting under the willow tree and discussing Shakespeare or Galileo’s theories. One day, she was going to be a scientist, the next a doctor, and the next a playwright. There wasn’t anything she didn’t dream of becoming.
He always saw her as growing up to fulfill all those dreams; he never once envisioned her dying before she ever fully got the chance to live. Yet, that’s precisely what happened.
Back then, she was what kept him from going over the edge; he would not disappoint her by becoming a monster. After her death, his determination to kill everything like Yannis fueled him.
“I was kneeling at her side when he ambushed me,” he murmured.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
So was he. He was sorry he wasn’t there to protect her when she required it most, sorry he’d been too wrapped up in himself to see what Yannis was becoming, and sorry he hadn’t been strong enough to destroy Yannis back then.
“What happened after that?” she asked.
“We fought until we almost killed each other. When Yannis fled the house, I sat in the doorway, covered in blood, his and mine, as I watched him run into the day with smoke streaming from him. I’d hoped he died.”
After he battled Yannis, he crawled back to her side and drew her into his arms. Holding her broken, cooling body in his arms was the only time he’d wept in his life.
“But he didn’t die?”
“No, he didn’t,” he grated the words out from between his gritted teeth. “I saw him in the tunnel yesterday. He emerged after we made it outside and smiled at me before ducking inside again. He’s alive, and I’m going to kill him.”
The hair on Callie’s nape rose as he growled the words. She didn’t know Yannis, but she suddenly felt very sorry for him. She had a feeling once Lucien set his mind on something, he achieved it, and if the lethal tone of his voice were any indication, Yannis’s death would not be an easy one.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she said.
Determined to steer the conversation back to a better place, Lucien asked, “What about you, Callie? Where are you from? What’s your full name? What about your family?”
After everything he revealed, she saw no reason not to tell him more about herself. Besides, she could never return to her old life.
“Calista Ballis. My father was Greek, and his parents moved to New York before he was born. My mom was a mixing pot of nationalities. I grew up in upstate New York near the original Woodstock site.”
“Some of my brothers went to Woodstock.”
“But not you?”
Lucien chuckled. “Concerts and a lot of people aren’t my thing.”
“I went to a lot of concerts there over the years. Many of them I listened to from the woods with my friends; we always had a lot of fun. And then, after I got my degree, I moved to New Jersey and found work with a vet. I led a rather boring life, but I liked it that way.”
“What about a boyfriend?”
Why did he suddenly want to slaughter a man he didn’t know and who might not exist? She tensed beneath his touch, and when she spoke again, an edge of steel had entered her voice.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Something about the way she said it and the way she reacted to his question made him question if there was more to the story, but he didn’t ask any more about it. They’d already discussed enough depressing things tonight, and he didn’t want to know if he had competition for her.
Competition? The word baffled him. He didn’t compete for women. They either wanted him or they didn’t, but he wasn’t about to jump through hoops to get them. However, he found himself wanting to be the only man in her life, and he had no idea why.
“I’m going to rest again,” Callie murmured.
Before Lucien could reply, she pulled away from him; he listened as she moved about the mattress before settling onto it again. He longed to curl up beside her and hold her once more, but he stared into the darkness as he tried to sort out his strange feelings for this woman.
But though he’d fed and rested, he still wasn’t up to full strength, and his thoughts, when it came to her, were muddled. When he had some sleep and was more nourished, he’d be able to think better, and he might not have any interest in her.
Callie placed her hands under her head. She wasn’t tired; she just preferred not to talk anymore. She especially didn’t want to talk about Carter. That nightmarish chapter of her life was over.
She lay awake for a long time, part of her wishing Lucien would lie beside her again, and the other part wishing he would go away. She wasn’t sure how much time passed before he lay down beside her and draped his arm around her.
Though she tried to resist, her body betrayed her by relaxing into him. Her nose wrinkled at his scent, but she’d grown accustomed to it, and she felt better the second he touched her.
Closing her eyes, Callie fell asleep.