Page 48 of Nocte

I want to run from him.

Hide from him.

My foot twitches against the floor, but then I go still. Movement flickers against the wall across from me and a new fear takes over. A living shadow approaches us both, looming above, threatening to descend.

I can feel its dark intentions seep into the air: to kill.

“Don’t you see?” Day continues, oblivious to me and the creature creeping toward him. “I can save you from all of this! Your place will be by my side.Thatis where you belong.”

“Of course,” I say, but I barely hear him or what he says next. All I can see is the pale face creeping closer, fangs bared, eyes blazing. The longer Day touches me, the more ominous the moment feels. Need to stop it. End this.

So I’ll say anything. “Of course. You are right,” I tell him, this unfamiliar figure wearing the face of dear Day. “You are always right. I understand now.”

“You do?” His voice is so hopeful it hurts. It sounds like my voice. Too close to my voice.

When the vamryre offered me the world, and I begged for a price.

“Yes,” I insist. “So please rest. I am sorry. I understand.”

“Good.” He smiles for real and finally withdraws. My heart pounds as I watch him go. I intend to watch and wait for him to slip out of the main chamber.

Too late. My shadow monster has grown tired of waiting. He latches onto my shoulders and steers me back, back into the most shadowed section of the catacombs. He pins me against the wall there. He steps into me. Slams his mouth to mine. Creeping fingers inch beneath my robe and upward. Then brush past a tender slip of flesh and plunge inside of me.

It hurts, but in a different way than it should. The way it hurts to breathe ice-cold air on a winter day. But you breathe in deeply. It’s fresh. It’s cold. It’s thrilling.

And you need it.

I need this. His touch, stroking from the inside out, sowing friction that makes the world fall away and makes me forget who I am and what I am. I need this.

My teeth clench. A strange sound catches in my throat. A noise he doesn’t like. A noise he craves and presses his weight into me until I make it again. Again.

I can’t stop making pathetic, tiny, choked sounds.

With a sweep of his tongue, he chases the violence, demanding more. Always more.

I feel him tugging at my robes and scratching the flesh underneath. Steps back. Head bowed and half-cocked he takes me in. Every greedy, selfish inch of me he inhales with glowing red eyes. Grasping the front of his black pants, he approaches. A flicking thumb unhooks a metal clasp. A clenched fist tugs the waistband down.

And my mind is wiped blank.

He is a sinful creature too beautiful to exist. Too beautiful to compare to dull illustrations and diagrams in that hated book. I never knew that beneath heavy fabric and dark trousers, bodies could morph and change. Muscle can strain against flesh in a haunting, lovely refrain.

I never knew that the sight of a vamryre’s body could make me hate myself more than I already do.

The way he looks at me, however, is all wrong. As he stares, my eyes burn, sear, and prickle. He doesn’t look at me as Day does.

It’s as though he’s hungry, starving, ravenous, and I’m a thing to be devoured. Not barely palatable sustenance like the bread I eat. He looks at me the way I look at…

The way I look at the sketches in my secret mortal sketchbook.

“Stay there,” Caspian snaps. Maybe I tried to move or flinched. Maybe I just needed to say something to fill the silence and regain control again. He steps out of his spilled trousers and advances toward me, naked from the lower half down.

I feel dizzy with relief. Finally. Finally. He’s changed his mind. He’ll accept my price. Finally.

It will be a painful bargain, but finally, finally…

I’ll have what I want, perhaps. Finally.

As his lips brush the crook of my throat, I realize I almost forgot to ask. Almost forgot the entire point of this twisted, filthy game.