Chapter 28
It was well past midnight, and he’d read the same paragraph about six times when his bedroom door opened. Brandy glided in, shutting the door behind her. Christian sat up immediately. “Brandy, I didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he said, placing his feet on the floor, intending to go to her.
She was shaking. “I’m sorry,” she said, getting to him before he could stand. She fell into his arms, and he pulled her close. “Granger and I had an argument earlier.”
He held her to his chest. “Are you all right?” He wanted to ask what it was about, wondering if Granger knew about him, but the fact that she was here made him think otherwise.
“Not really,” she admitted. “But there’s nothin’ I can do about it. I was hopin’… you could take my mind off of it for a little while.”
“Of course,” he replied, happy to oblige. She tipped her head up. He leaned down to kiss her, and in a moment, all of his worries had melted away. He hoped that she would have the same sensation as he hated to see her so disconcerted.
They made love, as they had so many times before, but this seemed different somehow, almost like the first time. Christian concentrated on every nuance of her body, every moment, every breath, as he had during that initial encounter, as if he knew somehow, in the back of his mind, that this was the last time, that Granger had found out or somehow spooked Brandy enough to drive her away from him forever. He didn’t want to accept that, just as he hadn’t accepted that the first time would be the last time, but when they were finished, and she curled up next to him, he had a feeling of loss unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. It almost brought tears to his eyes. He had to push them aside, though. Christian Henry was not a crier.
Nor was he one to revel in emotion. But tonight, it seemed clear that he had something he needed to say to her. “I love you, Brandy.”
The sound of her deep inhale was all that followed. She had heard him and reacted, but her response was not what he’d hoped for. He was about to say something else, something that excused her from having to reply in kind when she said, “I love you, too, Christian. I really do. I hope you can believe that.”
“Why wouldn’t I believe that?” he asked, tipping his head down to look at her.
She didn’t look up at him, though. She didn’t say anything at all, and for a moment he thought perhaps she’d fallen asleep.
Sleep was something he rarely experienced, but the idea that he could escape this world for a few moments was appealing. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, her fragrance filling her lungs. He didn’t expect to fall asleep at all, but his mind did go elsewhere, to a state of complete relaxation.
Until he felt her stirring.
What came next was a blinding fury of pain that had his eyes flying open and his lungs sucking in air. Christian gasped, his mouth dropping open, a white light flashing in front of his eyes as he tried to understand what had happened. His chest was on fire, the sensation of agony radiating into his arms and shoulders. Through blurry eyes, he searched Brandy’s tear streaked face for an answer. What had she done?
“I’m sorry!” she blurted, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry, Christian. I really do love you. I hope you know that. It’s just… he has my brother, and he hasn’t Transformed yet. He said… if I didn’t do it… he’d kill Franklin. I couldn’t let that happen. I’m so sorry.”
It was then that Christian tore his eyes away from her to look down at what was causing all the fuss. A large butcher knife protruded from his chest, just over his heart, the blade buried a good six inches in muscle, not much more than the handle sticking out as blood covered his pectorals, dripped down his side, and stained his bedding.
Words escaped him. What could he say? Not that he could inhale enough air to form words at all. She was dressing, throwing her nightgown and robe on, still swiping at tears. He had a feeling she was waiting for him to die, that if he didn’t do it, she’d be forced to stab him again. As much as this hurt, the initial blow was far worse. He didn’t want to be stabbed again. If Brandy needed him to die, then that’s what he wanted to do.
“Get help, Brandy,” he choked out. “Get your brother. Go.” She nodded through her tears, but he knew she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t go anywhere. “He’ll… kill you, too.” Christian knew Granger well enough to understand what the man was all about. If she truly thought he would just forgive her and let her go on about her life, she was fooling herself. If he was dead, he couldn’t help her. “Get… Jess.”
Again, she nodded and then leaned down and kissed his lips. Her mouth felt so warm, or perhaps it was just that he was cold. It was the first time since he’d Transformed that he felt a chill, and it was taking over his whole body. “I love you, Christian.”
“I love you, too, Brandy.” The sound of her name on his lips made the pain lessen. “Brandy,” he said again. “Brandy.” Christian’s eyes felt heavy. The cold and pain mingled together, and then, everything went still and black and silent.
“Christian?”
The familiar voice jarred his eyes open. He sat up too quickly, expecting the rush of blood to his head to make him dizzy. But it didn’t. He felt fine. He felt good. In fact, he felt better than he had in a long time, maybe forever.
His palms met lush green grass as he sat up, looking around. A brilliant blue sky above him, dotted with cottony white clouds, and a pleasant scent filled his lungs. He couldn’t quite place it. Jasmine? Rosewater? Pumpkin pie? Could it somehow be all three?