He’d kissed her sweet and long, running fingers through her hair and holding her close before he left, “I’ll see you soon, okay? As soon as I can.”
She’d nodded, feeling emotional.
“Order room service. Eat. Don’t leave the room. Take the vitamins. If I’m not back by morning, take the hormone pill, too. I’ll talk to the concierge and make sure they know to get you whatever you need.”
“Be safe,” she’d pleaded, worrying, hoping, praying he wasn’t walking into some sort of a trap.
He’d kissed her again, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
And then he was gone.
She was alone.
Wow.
Alone.
Weird.
He trusted her. He wasn’t afraid she’d run. Or, maybe he was scared to death she would but had no choice. She was very apprehensive about what might be next. She had a bad feeling but she was trying to shake it off.
When she undressed to take a bath she noticed a red thread on her stomach, and another one fell onto the floor when she was changing. The new tank top? Could a red piece of thread have been what went down the toilet bowl in the plane? Maybe all this panic was for nothing. She was still planning on watching vigilantly to be sure.
She took a long bath and then ordered a pizza and some grape Crush, which wasn’t Fanta as they didn’t have any but it was still grape pop so would do the job. She watched a sugary sweet, totally predictable romantic comedy, and then fell asleep after two episodes during a True Blood marathon on HBO. She woke up to the disposable cell phone ringing.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
His voice made her heart want to sing.
“Heyyyy…” She sat up and turned the TV down.
“Hey,” it sounded like he was smiling.
“Hey,” she repeated and giggled a little.
“God, I miss you,” he said, “What’s happening?”
“Nothing. Phew. I had pizza, watched a chick flick, some vampire porn, and snoozed.”
“Yeah, I thought it was kinda quiet in my head. Wait, vampire porn?”
“True Blood. TV show. Vamps, werewolves, shape shifters, lots and lots of the sex.”
“The sex?”
She laughed, “Mm. Hmm. Hope you enjoyed the break from my brain. What’s happening with you?”
“Well…let’s just say it’s been enlightening. Very enlightening. Can’t elaborate over the phone, baby, but I’ll be there in a few more hours. I’ll call first, make sure you aren’t bleeding before I come. I’ve hired a security agency to watch the room until I get there. They will be there in about 2 hours, max. Hotel security has been keeping an eye up until now. I’ll text you when they’re there so you know you’re good.”
“Enlightening, huh? Colour me curious. And I feel fine. No cramping, no sign of Aunt Flo. It might have been a total false alarm. I had red thread on me when I changed. From my top. Maybe that’s all it was in the toilet. Call me or text me and keep me posted?”
He breathed a sigh of relief, “You bought that red top at Walmart?”
“Yeah,”
“Wouldn’t have happened with Armani…”
She laughed.
“I’m just sayin’…”
“Loose threads can happen to anything. Don’t you dis my Walmart, y’hear?”
He chuckled.
“God we’re weird. Listen to us being silly when all this shit is happening.”
“Sometimes levity is the best medicine, princess.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Well, I’m gonna run. Love you. Go back to sleep and have sweet dreams, sweet girl. Miss you. Stay in the room.”
“Miss you too. I will. Be safe, okay?”
“Don’t worry. Later.” He hung up.
She kept waking up throughout the night. She tried not to torment herself wondering what was happening, what’d happen next, but she couldn’t help but wonder what Tristan was dealing with.
She was woken up at 7:30 in the morning with a text.
“Good morning, sunshine. Take your pills and vitamins, ok? Order breakfast for both of us? I’ll be there in a half an hour if you’re good? Let me know asap.”
She got up, peed, changed the tampon and saw that there was still no period, and replied,
“I’m good. See you soon. xo.”-5-Thirty minutes (on the dot) later there was a knock on the door. Kyla excitedly dashed to open it. She threw it wide, a beaming smile on her face. But standing in front of her wasn’t Tristan. It also wasn’t room service, bringing up the crepes stuffed with scrambled eggs and topped with hollandaise sauce that she’d ordered.
It was a tall good-looking guy in a light bomber jacket, jeans, and cowboy boots wearing sunglasses and a baseball hat. He had a grin on his face. His grin reminded her of a toothpaste commercial. He removed his hat and glasses as the Oh Fuck registered and the smile died on her face.
Liam Donavan. His long blond hair was tied back in a ponytail.
In an instant, before she had a chance to make a sound or for it to even fully register, he was pushing her back, shutting the door, grabbing her throat, and then his fangs appeared and instantly sunk in at the curve just above her collar bone. Just like that. There was the sickening sound of skin breaking and he was taking her blood. Taking what was supposed to only be Tristan’s.