Page 55 of Tears of Revenge

Nineteen

Avalon

Despite the onslaught of protests, she insisted on doing the dishes. She felt useless after spending all night reading in bed with Lysander. Though she certainly didn’t need to, she felt like she should be doing something with herself. She couldn’t even leave the house to distract herself considering it might end in a killing spree.

The picture of Lysander walking down a cold stone corridor re-painted itself in her mind. Only this time, she was walking by his side—licking her blood-soaked fingers. She shook the image away and refocused on the dishes.

“Avalon?”

She looked over her shoulder, meeting Varos’s concerned gaze. “Yes?”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

In place of an answer, she turned back to the soapy water. Did she want to talk about it? Where should she even start? Questions swirled around her mind like debris in a tornado, leaving her to reach in and fumble for anything to say. She didn’t want to think about Troy, but wasn’t one supposed to talk about trauma to be able to heal from it? That’s what all the TV shows said, anyway.

Then there was the issue of her new… situation. Hadn’t they already talked about it? The four of them agreed that they enjoyed each other’s company and that they were all happy. So, what more was there to talk about?

Lastly, there was her thirst. The scratching in her throat was driving her insane. Drinking seemed to be the only way to soothe it, but she couldn’t be drinking all the time, could she? Even though they’d said no one had died for that blood, she couldn’t help but think she was taking from others who needed it more.

Marcus slid onto the counter next to her, pulling her from her thoughts. “What I would give to know what is going on in that precious mind of yours.”

Eyes still fixed on the bubbles, she busied herself with the dishes. “A lot.”

“I thought so.” Marcus reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “And I’m pretty sure us crowding you isn’t helping you at all.”

She wanted to disagree because she truly did enjoy their company, though she couldn’t help but feel that there were so many unresolved issues.

Marcus gave her a few moments and when she didn’t speak, he quietly slipped off the counter. She lifted her head, surprised that he didn’t seem frustrated with her silence. Worried, yes, but there wasn’t that tension-filled electricity in the air that always seemed to accompany Troy’s temper.

“You’re not mad at me.” It wasn’t a question, rather a statement.

“Why would I be?”

“Because I’m punishing you with silence.” She knew she wasn’t punishing them, but Troy never seemed to learn that sometimes she just didn’t feel like speaking.

“You don’t owe me a single response. I don’t think you’re punishing me. I think you are overwhelmed and are having trouble finding your words.”

Marcus lovingly brushed his knuckles along her cheekbone, then drifted away to the back of the house. Varos followed him, giving her the space she wanted but was too afraid to ask for. She finished the dishes before turning to go outside and enjoy the sun’s bright rays. Though she was sure that the sun wouldn’t hurt her, she couldn’t get the unrealistic image of exploding vampires out of her head.

She found her place within the roses, standing stone still and allowing the wildlife to flutter around her. Her new supernatural vision made it easy for her to follow them, letting her fall into a trance while she soaked up the sun’s warmth. The city around her was buzzing, sirens blaring and cars honking, with helicopters and planes zipping through the sky. It was so easy to stay still for the insects but what her body did so easily, her mind couldn’t. The same questions repeated themselves in her mind over and over again. She felt the need to move, to do something—anything. But she stayed still for the sake of watching the little creatures flutter around her. Even when footsteps approached behind her, she stayed, not wanting to disturb her little friends.

“I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” Varos said, thankfully keeping his distance.

“No, I’m okay.”

“Lysander is leaving for a meeting. If something does come to mind, you can call him.”

He turned to walk back inside, but she halted him with her next words. “I don’t like sitting around and doing nothing.”

“What would you usually do when you feel uneasy?”

“Go out.”

Though she still had her back to him, she could almost see the wheels turn as he tried to drum up a solution. “We could paint together again. I brought the supplies with me.”

She did have a canvas she wanted to finish, but it didn’t fit her current mood. They were trying so hard to keep her happy and it made her feel awful for the way she treated them. How was she supposed to explain to him that she felt trapped, and yet she had no energy to make herself feel better? She knew painting or reading would help, but she just couldn’t make herself do it. She had no words to explain that she wasn’t upset with them, simply overwhelmed. She wanted to shut everything off for a while but her brain didn’t quite catch the memo. But if she let those emotions grow, she was afraid she would lose sight of herself and start killing people.

Did all of that even make sense?