Craved

“Yeah,” he continued, hesitant to speak. “Gwen, we need for you to meet us at the entrance of town, on the north side.” I could tell he was hiding something. His voice held the heaviness of sadness that turned my blood an icy cold.

“What’s going on, Micah?” I whispered as I stared blankly at the wall in front of me.

“We’ll talk when you get here.” I nodded my head without realizing that he couldn’t see it and flipped my phone shut. An icy breeze gripped my neck, sending shivers to dance along my spine. We were inside, but I recognized that breeze. I’d felt it whenever I saw Bridget. It was death.

Aiden drove to the northern entrance of town and I stared blankly at the darkened landscape as it blurred past my window. When the car stopped, I noticed Micah and Wyatt standing by a large oak tree with their arms crossed and heads hung. I pushed the car door open and sluggishly stepped out. Aiden grabbed my hand but the gesture did nothing for me. I told him about the conversation with Micah and, although he didn’t say it, I could tell he was worried. We walked through the tall grass and over to where Micah and Wyatt stood. There was a body, but unlike the others, this one had a sheet draped over it.

When I made eye contact with Wyatt, I knew who was under the sheet. He gave me a sad confirmation with a nod of his head and I collapsed to my knees as tears blurred my vision. Aiden’s arms went around me as I sobbed against his shoulder.

“I have to see her,” I said, looking up with desperation. Maybe they’d gotten it wrong. Maybe it was just someone that looked like her. Micah looked at Wyatt and then down at me. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Gwen. She doesn’t look like the others.”

My breath caught in my throat and my entire body began to shake. I placed my hands out in front of me and dug my fingers into the moist earth, needing to steady myself with something solid. I took deep gulps of air into my lungs but it didn’t fill the void that settled in the pit of my stomach. I crawled over to where the body lay and with unsure hands, folded the sheet back.

My hand instantly dropped away from the sheet when Fiona’s face greeted me. It actually was her, my best friend. It hadn’t been a case of mistaken identity like my subconscious prayed for. Her blonde hair gracefully lay flat while her face was turned away from me. She didn’t look pale, like the other bodies. I turned her face toward me and red caught my peripheral. Her neck looked like an animal had taken a large chunk out of it. Dark blood colored her otherwise perfect skin, the contrast being unbearable.

Aiden pulled me up off the ground and into his arms where I collapsed against him, unsure if my legs could hold me up. I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt while I screamed into his chest.

“You shouldn’t have let her see that! What the hell were you guys thinking?” Aiden yelled at the two detectives. It wasn’t their fault; I’d been the one who pulled the sheet away, the one who needed proof.

I wiped the salty tears away from my eyes and cheeks and took a deep breath to calm myself. It was useless of course. Fiona’s body hovered in my peripheral, making calming down nearly impossible.

“It was Ian Despereaux,” I said to no one in particular. Of course, I didn’t have proof that Ian had killed Fiona, but I knew in my gut that he was responsible.

“Is that the man you were with at the Gala?” Micah asked. I nodded my head as I suddenly remembered Ian’s lips being on mine. Nausea turned my stomach, threatening to make me vomit. It had been one big game to him, the story about Aiden working late, their friendship, and accompanying me to the Gala. I wasn’t exactly sure why he was playing with me, but I vowed to myself that if it were the last thing I did, I’d find out.

Wyatt pulled out a small radio and sent a message to one of his staff to bring in Ian Despereaux. That was easier said than done, he wasn’t from Flora and we had no idea how to find him or get a hold of him. I knew that Fiona’s death was a message to me personally. Ian knew that I’d see her. Every time I was around him I felt as if he were watching me with an interest I didn’t appreciate.

Wyatt’s radio went off and he held the button to talk into it. When he was done, he clipped it to his belt and said, “Ian’s at the police station and he wants to talk to Gwen.” I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion and anger at the thought of even seeing the man responsible for Fiona’s death.

“You don’t have to talk to him, Gwen,” Aiden said. I looked up at him and wondered how he expected me not to talk to him, to find out what he wanted; it was the least I could do for my dead best friend.

“Yes I do,” I told him sternly.

************

Fiona’s body had been moved to the morgue while Aiden and I accompanied Wyatt and Micah to the police station. It seemed like the night was endless. Not only had I dealt with Fiona hating me, but I also discovered my so-called-boyfriend was addicted to brew, went through torture to save him from himself, and found out that my best friend had been murdered. As I walked down the sterile hallway towards the holding cells, I knew this night was nowhere close to being over. I prayed for the sun to move on fast forward and give me an excuse why I couldn’t see Ian, but we still had three hours until the sun rose.

Micah pushed through the swinging doors that led to the cells with me right behind him and Aiden bringing up the rear. The main jail area held six cells that were currently vacant, but we kept walking to the door on the far end that led to the cells designated for vampires. My heart pounded and slammed against my chest like a sledgehammer and my deep breaths did nothing to calm it. I knew who I’d see beyond that gray door and what he had done; the adrenaline inundated my body like a flashflood.

Micah turned and said, “Are you sure you wanna do this?” His eyes searched mine for any hints of hesitation, but I was sure he couldn’t find an ounce of doubt.

“Absolutely.” Aiden grabbed my hand and squeezed it the tiniest bit and then we all three walked through the door to confront Ian Despereaux.

18

Ian was leaning against the interior brick wall with his arms crossed across his chest and his ankles crossed. His eyes followed me all the way down the small hallway until I was standing in front of his cell. I wasn’t sure how I would react to seeing him again, but throwing a fit would have been understandable. Instead, I was calm. I eyed him with an anger I didn’t even realize I could harbor. I was definitely calm before the storm; my insides churning like dark, cloudy skies, ready to explode.

Micah and Aiden flanked me while I stood front and center, ready for Ian to discuss whatever he wanted with me. My hands fisted at my sides as I waited for him to speak first, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me throw a temper-tantrum. He didn’t know that what he had done to Fiona was gnawing away at me and destined to leave me in a heaping mess of tears and loss. I would not give him the satisfaction of witnessing the distress he caused.

Ian pushed off the wall and walked over to the bars that separated us. His hands wrapped around the thick bars and he quickly pulled them away as a thin wisp of smoke floated from his burnt hand. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth but I quickly straightened it out and remained emotionless. The FPD made sure that the vampire cells were encased with pure silver. For reasons unknown vampires can’t tolerate silver.

“I take it you got my message?” Ian said. I bit down on the screams that wanted to leave my lips; I would not go off on him.

“Yes,” I said softly. It tore me apart to know that he referred to Fiona as a message he was using to get to me.

“I’m sorry about that, but it’s you that we need and your attention was necessary.”

“How about just asking for what you want instead of murdering an innocent woman? Whatever game you’re playing, your strategy sucks. There is nothing to hold over my head now,” I spat out with a bitter laugh. Ian smiled devilishly and pressed his face close enough to the bars to keep from touching them but still close enough to my face. I wanted nothing more than to take a step back and away from him but I wouldn’t back down from his taunts.

“You know,” he began, running a finger over his bottom lip. “after our kiss, it’s all I think about.” His eyes turned black with desire as he stared intensely at me. Aiden’s fist moved so fast, that all I saw was a blur as he punched Ian through the silver bars. When he pulled his arm away, his flesh was singed but otherwise okay.

“Lie again, asshole, and it’ll be your head that’s ripped off next,” Aiden warned with a deadly calm tone. Ian licked the blood that dripped from his lip and I watched in awe as it healed before my eyes.

He laughed and made eye contact with me again. “Ask her if I’m lying?”

I turned to Aiden and said, “He kissed me, I didn’t kiss him,” and then turned back to Ian and said, “I slapped him for it.” Ian laughed like the slap had been a playful one and not one of anger.

Then he shrugged. “You can defend your actions all you want, but I know what you felt in that moment; you can’t lie about that.” Aiden snarled, pacing up and down the small hallway as if trying to conceal his anger.

“Does your darling Aiden know that you shared a kiss with Detective Reynolds here?” Ian nodded towards Micah. I openly gaped at him, confused as to how he had known about that. I hadn’t told Fiona. I knew exactly what Ian was doing, he was trying to cause an argument between the three of us and I hoped it wasn’t working. I told Aiden about me and Micah kissing when I found him with the naked bimbo, but he hadn’t mentioned it since. It seemed like a million nights ago.

“Yes, I know about that,” Aiden said as he stared holes into Micah. I thought I was going to have to witness Micah and Aiden fighting, but Aiden took a deep breath and said, “Quit stalling. What’d you want to talk to Gwen about?” I had no clue why I was even standing in the jail, giving Ian what he wanted. I wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl under my blankets and cry. The more I thought about that though, the more I didn’t want to go home. Fiona wouldn’t be there and I wouldn’t be able to escape the emptiness her death would cause. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">