I bent and gently lifted her broken and bloodied body from the tractor’s tines. It was clear that one sharp point had ravaged her heart. As I turned with Trinity in my arms, I saw Aisha’s headless body fly across the room and hit the wood-plank wal on the other side of the barn. It barely even registered; I just knew it was one less thing I had to worry about, one less thing to distract me from my dying friend.
As I laid Trinity on the dirt floor of the barn, I heard Bo’s heavy, labored breathing from somewhere to my left. But it was soon drowned out by the failing beat of Trinity’s heart and that’s what I focused al my attention on.
I settled her on her back as gently as I could and then I knelt at her side, taking her hand in mine. Trinity rol ed her blue eyes toward me and I saw her chin tremble with emotion. Though she was trying to be brave, I could plainly see the fear in her eyes. And the regret.
“It’s okay, Ridley. I want to go.”
Trinity’s face blurred as my eyes wel ed with tears of sadness that spil ed down my cheeks. I knew in that moment that there was only one thing I could give her that would make a difference, one thing that would ease her suffering.
I leaned down and whispered into Trinity’s ear, “I forgive you.”
Trinity squeezed my hand and when I leaned back she was smiling. The gesture assured me that I’d done the right thing, that I’d given her the one thing she needed more than life—forgiveness.
Then, with the last breath leaving her body like a sigh of relief, Trinity’s hand went lax in mine and she was gone.
“Omigod, Trinity,” I moaned, bringing her limp hand to my mouth.
I bent over her lifeless body and I cried. I cried for Trinity. I cried for the loss of a friend I’d known most of my life. I cried for the tragedy that she’d brought to so many of those around her. I cried for the forgiveness she’d never win from the others. I cried for the person she became only a short time before her death. I cried for her violent death and the guilt that caused her to give up so easily. It was for that Trinity—
the self-less, truly remorseful, honestly sincere Trinity—that I grieved. It was the image of her limp yet peaceful body that I would carry with me for the rest of my life, however long that life might be.
After some time, Bo squatted at my side.
“Let me take you home. I’l come back and take care of them.”
“What do you mean ‘take care of them’?”
“I’l bury them. They were your friends and they deserve that. Besides, there’s no reason for people to know what went on here. It would only cause more hurt and confusion.”
He was so good to me—so considerate of me and of others—that I ached with love for him.
“Do you want me to help?”
“No, baby. You need to rest. Al this stress is burning through your blood. You’re beginning to fade and soon the thirst wil be unbearable. I’l get you home, come back and take care of them and then go feed so you can drink when you get up.”
I knew without a doubt that Bo would take care of everything, including me. I could feel love pouring off him in waves and I closed my eyes for just a moment to bask in it, to let it wash over me and carry away al the sadness, like dirt from a river bank.
Final y, I nodded and let Bo help me to my feet. Before he led me from the barn, he pul ed me close to his chest and wrapped his strong arms around me. It seemed as though nothing could hurt me, not even a hurricane, as long as I was in his arms.
After a few minutes, he kissed me gently on the forehead and led me from the carnage in the barn. We kept our run to Sebastian’s at a leisurely pace, Bo ever-aware of my needs.
When we arrived, I was reminded of our houseguests. I had forgotten al about them until we passed the den on the way to the back bedroom. We didn’t even pause, however, just kept right on going.
Once we reached the bedroom, Bo bent and scooped me up, much as he’d done the last time, and carried me to the bed. Tenderly, he deposited me on top of the duvet, settling my head on the mound of pil ows.
“Rest,” he commanded softly. “I’l be back soon.”
I watched him go. When he shut the bedroom door, I tried to put him and everyone else out of my mind. I don’t know how long I lay there before I realized that my attempts at rest were futile. It must’ve been quite a while, though. I could feel my thirst gaining ground and clouding my mind. My thoughts rocked between physical need and the reliving of the surreal events of the last few hours, days, and weeks.
In many ways, my entire life seemed surreal. Wel most of it anyway. Some parts felt much more unbelievable than others. Unfortunately, it seemed that the painful parts were the ones I remembered most clearly, the ones that felt most real.
Each time I would try to push away the most bothersome memories in favor of the more pleasant ones, they would claw their way back to the surface of my mind and drag me back down into what felt like the depths of despair. There, they would swirl angrily with my ever-increasing thirst, each feeding on the other, growing more and more dominant of my thoughts.
Final y, tired of fighting, tired of thinking, tired of being awake, I turned on my side and I let the pain pour out of me in great heaves of agony. Tears streamed from my eyes, wetting the pil ow beneath my cheek. Eventual y, I cried myself to sleep, relieved to feel the comfort of oblivion carrying me away.
Almost as soon as I drifted off, something woke me. I wasn’t sure at first if it was a noise or the delicious scent of sandalwood and human blood. The smel was so intense, I knew the source had to be close.
The strength of the heavenly scent in the air coupled with my unpreparedness for it made my thirst increase exponential y. My throat burned like I’d swal owed acid. My chest ached with want of the sweet blood. My limbs stung with icy heat.
The last thing I was aware of was the prickling of my elongated canines against my lips. They were already prepared to penetrate flesh in order to satisfy my incredible yearning. My focus was singular. My need was violent.
When the doorknob to the bedroom twisted, it echoed in the silence, drowning out the drum-like thumping of my heart.
I watched breathlessly as the wood panel moved toward me, opening just a crack to reveal Cade’s handsome face on the other side.
Then, as if by merely thinking it, I was standing in front of him, taking him into my arms and burying my teeth in the deliciously-scented skin of his neck. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it registered that not only did he not resist, but he wrapped his muscular arms around me and held me close as I pul ed long gulps of his thick, warm blood into my mouth and let it pour down my fiery throat.