Holy fuck he almost killed her. Even now she slumped back against the car, her eyes hooded, a lazy smile on her face. His mark was on her neck—a dark bruise with two holes inside. Shame followed by anger filled him, had him standing over her.
She popped her eyes open and smiled big at him. A real, beautiful smile that was all Vera. It tugged at his chest, but he ignored it.
“I don’t ever want to see you again. Do you understand me, Vera? Never.” Vera’s smile died, she rushed to her feet reaching for him, but he stepped away.
“But I don’t understand. Why? You just— I thought—” she fumbled for words as pure agony fired through her heart. She knew he was going to leave her anyways, someday, but not now. She wasn’t ready for it now. Not after what they’d been through.
“Don’t worry I’ll make it easy on you. I won’t be coming on Kategan land again. Ever.” He turned from her and started towards the mansion.
“But I love you.” Her whisper barely made it over the sound of the rain. She expected him to turn back and say something, even something cruel, but he didn’t. He kept walking—and that was worse of all.
Dmetri was there though, pulling her into his arms. “I am so sorry, moya labyuff.” The old Russian endearment, my love, used to be something he called her when he knew she was in pain. Now it did nothing for her. “He is just upset right now, confused. His life has just made a huge change and he isn’t accepting it well. Don’t worry Vera, I will guide him into the new ways, and then he’ll be back for you.”
She shook her head against his chest. “No he won’t.” Shallow words so at odds to the heavy weight in her chest.
“Trust me, Vera.”
She laughed a nasty, awful sound. “The last time I did that, I got my heartbroken.” He frowned down at her looking as if he wanted to say something, but then he only nodded.
“Take my car and go home. I’ll call you with any news. I’ll send my guard with you. I won’t leave you unprotected now that we know what Ariss is up to. You won’t be safe until we capture her.”
Vera didn’t recall getting into the car, nor of pulling away from the mansion for the second time that night. She drove with robotic movements, her mind completely numb. A vampire guard sat in her back seat and a car of more guards followed her.
She drove for a solid twenty minutes before she finally pulled over to the side of the road. She was thankful when the guard in the car didn’t say anything.
Choked sobs left her raw throat, but no tears would come. She stared out at the night, at the rain. She was dried out on the inside.
Still it rained outside, the night crying for her.
Chapter Twelve
Four weeks did not a wound heal. Or so Vera had learned. In fact, a month had never felt so long.
As if the fates hadn’t punished her enough, they continued to point their fingers and laugh. Vera had had enough of it. She was ready to break the bitch’s fingers and shove them down their throats.
Vera stumbled into her kitchen and winced at the smell. The dishes of food were piled up in the sink and littered across the counter. Every morning she told herself to clean them, to put them away, but who was she kidding, she didn’t give a shit about dishes—not even on a good day. She’d easily put on several pounds with the amount of junk food she’d been eating which only added to her sour mood these last few weeks.
She couldn’t help it. She’d always been an eater when she was depressed. No, depressed didn’t cover what she felt. She’d found and lost her mate. She laughed the sound hollow and cold. She watched her mate die then get turned into a vampire. No that wasn’t quite accurate either. She’d found her mate, but he didn’t want her. That about summed it up.
“Because I have problems,” she mocked in a wimpy male voice. Vera stared at the dishes, lips pursed. She looked down at herself and felt her shoulders sag.
She was wearing a baggy t-shirt with stains and sweatpants. She hadn’t even known she owned sweatpants. The man was ruining her life. She was surprised she didn’t feel angrier about it. It wasn't like when Dmetri dumped her to the curb. No, this felt entirely different. Like half of her soul was dead. It was so, so much worse.
She wanted to go back to bed where she could spend all day sleeping, but even now, sleep wouldn’t come. How cruel was life when all she wanted was to sleep and make it all go away but she could barely sleep more than two hours a night?
Fucking cruel bitches.
Vera didn’t know if it was seeing her baggy sweatpants or the culmination of smelly dishes that pushed her. But finally, something in her snapped. Weeks of painful tears and a bleeding heart set her in motion. She attacked the dishes. The water was too hot and burned her hands, but she bit her lip and continued.
When she finished one side of the sink, she realized she felt...better. Anger was driving her now, and it felt so much better than self-pitying sadness. She scrubbed the dishes until they shined and glinted in the kitchen light.
When she finished all of them, her strainer was full and she had to lay a towel out to put the rest of the dishes out to dry.
What was he doing right now?
Fucking? Sleeping, flirting with some skank, drinking some other woman’s blood? She had no idea. Hell, she didn’t want to know. That’s right. Mate or not, she was done. Done hurting. A month of pain was a month too long.
She trudged up the stairs to her bedroom and her legs burned with the effort. She felt nothing but disgust at herself at how far she’d let herself go. She pulled off her baggy shirt and sweats and stepped into the shower. Turning the water all the way up, she scrubbed herself clean until she was pink.
Miraculously, she actually felt better, lighter, as if she’d washed away some of her problems. She laughed knowing that was a lie. Just like how Jackson used to drink away his problems only to sober up to them, she was no different.
She wished his father were still alive so that she could show him a thing or two about picking on someone his own size. Okay maybe she wasn’t his size, but damn if she wouldn’t like to wail on that motherfucker.
She was just finishing applying her mascara when a knock sounded at the front door. Vera froze, her heart faltering a step in her chest at the sound. She returned the mascara wand and closed it with surprisingly calm hands.
She’d only spoken to Vane a couple of times since she got back. She told him about Ariss, her guardian, and her Master trying to take Kategan land and after he roared loud enough to crack a window, she admitted that they were attacked again later. She winced guiltily, though she may have left out a few other pertinent details...like that Rome’s old best friend was now a vampire, and he was her mate. Stuff like that.
The knocked sounded again and she flinched. Somehow she made her arms work and put a robe on. What, she thought defensively. If Jackson wants people to know he’s a bloodsucker, nightwalker, shadow dweller, thing of the night, then it wasn’t her responsibility to tell people. She was just thinking of him really.
But Vane always called when he wanted to talk. He didn’t come over, and Rome and Alison were still out of town. A month long freaking honeymoon? Geez, Alison wasn’t going to be able to walk when they got back.
Vera told her stupid heart not to beat so freaking fast, not to get too excited. It wasn’t him. Please be him.
She reached the door and flung it open.