Page 41 of Speechless
Shock struck her, front and center. Jenna recoiled, struggling to comprehend the meaning behind Sarah’s earnest words because the angry faery was right—she didn’t like what she had to say. The implications were too horrific to think about.
“I don’t think Connor will survive giving you up. If he does, it’ll take time. Hospital isn’t the answer, Jenna. We can do everything they can and more, but you have to want it. Think it over, carefully.” With a little pat of her hands, Sarah released her and rose.
Common sense warred with Sire’s apparition. They were sending her away because of him, him and his stupid rules. How many times was she going to give him power over her? She wasn’t on his leash anymore, controlled by vicious words and swift repercussions.
Was she willing to lose everything?
Anything that was nothing wasn’t human, she reminded herself.
Anything that had nothing was damned.
“W-Why?” she choked out.
The angry faery sagged with relief. Tension seeped from her slim body as she turned back to face Jenna. Some of the sternness eased from her delicate features. “She speaks. Why what, Jenna?”
God, her mouth was Sahara dry. “B-Because I was b-bad?”
Sarah sat again. “How do I get through to you, Jenna? You haven’t been bad. No one is angry with you, blames you, faults you. Is that what all this has been about, you think you’ve been bad? By whose standards?”
Did she dare say his name after all this time? Had any of the girls he’d taken over the years had an opportunity to surrender his name before they died? Jenna doubted it. If this was her only chance, would she take it or let it float past? She hoped to God and all the pretty angels her tongue didn’t turn black and fall out. “S-Sire.”
Eyes sharp, Sarah cupped Jenna’s face in her hands. “He’s the reason for all this? Not eating, scaring the shit out of all of us, refusing to sleep in bed or on the couch? Sire is the man who did this to you?”
The biggest secret of her life was in the open.Hewasn’t a secret anymore. Surely, he lost some of his power through exposure. If people knew about him, he had no control over her. Maybe the link was broken.
Maybe she was free.
Jenna nodded slowly, trapped in Sarah’s keen gaze. Cat was out of the bag now—she’d like to see Sire get the feral bastard back in.
“Okay. Okay, that’s something to work on. There are new rules in this house, Jenna. We’ve got three days to set you back on the right track. It’s not much time, but we can swing it. You with me?”
Another nod, a little more eager this time.
“No, we use words from here. You have a voice, Jenna. For God’s sake, let it be heard. We need to get weight back on you, pronto. You’ll eat what I put in front of you. The floor’s off-limits for sleeping. I don’t care what this asshole Sire drummed into your head; people sleep in beds or on couches. No more hiding, Jenna. You’ve been hidden away for too long.”
Jeez, her chest was tight. Jenna swallowed. “Yes.”
“We’ll fight for you, Jenna, if you fight for yourself. I promise you that. I have to go make some phone calls. Eat, sweetheart. We’re coming out of the gate swinging.” Smiling tightly, Sarah dashed off.
Jenna was under the impression Sarah had come out, swung, and scored a direct hit. The discussion left her muddled, a bit disorientated as she replayed the conversation back.
One thing was for sure—if Sire hadn’t been hunting her down already, he sure as hell would be now. She’d just declared open season on herself, and Sire was nothing if not dedicated to the hunt.
Sick at the thought of facing him again, Jenna pulled the duvet over her head. Her memories were still barricaded away, held hostage to protect them from the poison he exuded. Because that’s what he was, in essence. A toxic viper in a classically handsome face. Beautiful, lethal, and dead inside.
Perfectly styled mahogany hair cut artistically short with just a fraction more length on the top. Smooth, flawless skin, lightly tanned—by machine, not sunlight. Somehow that fashionable tan highlighted her blood more effectively when it spattered over him.
His eyes…she shuddered. The easiest part of keeping her head down was avoiding meeting the void of his soul. Blue as a summer sky, harder than flint, and completely vacant of anything resembling humanity.
Eyes that smiled when her body went rigid with agony. Darkened to black when his body jerked to a finish inside his victim, his hands around a fragile throat while she danced in the throes of death.
God, what had she done? He wouldn’t let this go. She could run fast and far, and still never outrun him. She held a guillotine over the heads of people she cared for, loved, because Sire would have no qualms about killing them to get to her. To make a point.
She wished Connor was there. He’d know how to reassure her, calm the rising flood water of anxiety working its way into sheer panic. She brought his voice to mind, the cadence and tone. Imagined he was behind her under the covers, his arm secure around her waist, his lips at her ear.
Curled up beneath the duvet, her imaginary Connor guarding her from the demon coming to end her existence, Jenna fell asleep for the first time in days.
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