A/N: Thanks to Victoria Cullen30 and a guest who didn't leave their name for reviewing the last chapter! :)
Evelyn POV
"Come, Evelyn. We need to talk." Marcus stood, like a statue in the doorway, his body stiff and his face set in determination as his deep voice rang throughout the room.
"Oh, Marcus, must you take her away so soon?" Sulpicia gently protested. " We're just having the grandest time getting to know her better."
"Yes, I'm afraid I must." He held his hand out to me when I didn't stand, a silent command to come to him. "Now, Evelyn."
"Well, that's a shame." Sulpicia lamented.
"I don't want to go." I whispered, quietly.
Something about him was off, and it scared me. There was something in his eyes. They had always looked so bright and young to me. But now there was something dark about them, something that spoke of a person who had lived through the ages, who had seen things, done things; things I hoped never to hear about.
The room went silent in the wake of my words and I could feel the tension palpably between us.
"You don't have a choice." His cold words sliced through me, as he was suddenly at my side, pulling me to my feet.
"I don't think there's any need for that, Marcus—" Athenodora began, admonishingly, but, when Corin put a hand on her arm, they exchanged a look and she went silent.
I whimpered as he all but drug me from the room, his fingers digging into my wrist. "Let me go!" I tried to dig my heels into the ground, but it only made it hurt more.
"No!" He growled, a noise that made me freeze in terror as he began to tug us down the stairs.
I gasped as his grip tightened. "Please, you're hurting me!"
He released me at that, sighing as his features softened. "Then don't make me drag you like a petulant child."
I flinched at that. "I didn't make you do anything." I murmured, bitterly, as I cradled my aching wrist to my chest, rubbing at the red, swollen skin to try to ease the pain.
His eyes shot to it, and I heard him curse quietly under his breath at the bruises that marked it.
"Forgive me." He whispered, so softly I had to strain my ears to hear the words. "I shouldn't have treated you thusly. There is no justification—not when I know how delicate you are."
He took my hand from me, gently caressing the darkened skin. I might have protested, but his icy skin felt unbelievably soothing against mine.
"Please, say you forgive me, Evelyn." He begged, a desperate edge to his voice.
"If I don't, will you hurt me again?" I tried to fight them, but I could already hear the tears in my own voice.
"No." He replied quickly. "No, of course not." He looked like he might say something more, but ultimately decided against it, shaking his head.
"Come," He began again, releasing my wrist and instead gently guiding me by the small of my back the rest of the way down the stairs. "Quickly, there's something I must show you."
Marcus POV
"What is it?" She asked, softly, as I led her closer and closer to the dining hall.
I could still feel her, trembling ever-so-slightly beneath my touch. I hadn't raised a hand to her, but I had hurt her. I had been careless. It was my fault and mine alone, I knew that. I truly felt like a beast, marring her beautiful skin in such a way.
"You eat meat, do you not?" I asked, quietly.
She frowned, and despite the severity of the situation, I couldn't help but find the utterly confused expression that swept across her face adorable. "Well, yeah?" She answered, her words more question than statement.
"And, do you feel guilt over the lives of the cows, chickens, pigs, and other animals who are slaughtered to feed you?" I continued, just as softly.
Her words were slow, and a little cautious, but honest. "Uh... No, not really, I guess. I mean, maybe I should. I was raised thinking that meat was just a normal part of your diet, that it's good for you. I mean, I don't like it, but it's not like I really feel... Guilty, exactly."
"And the fruits and vegetables you eat, do you feel guilty for the death of the plants that grow them?"
"...No?" She sighed, turning her head sideways to face me. "I don't understand why we're talking about this, Marcus."
When we paused, her head snapped forward and I could tell instantly that she recognized the giant doors we were in front of. Her entire body tensed, and she tried to step backwards, but I wrapped my arms around her to stop the movement.
"...M-Marcus, what are we doing here?" Her voice was quivering as much as her body was as I held her to me, and it made me wonder if perhaps she wasn't ready for this. She'd asked for it, but that didn't mean she was ready to really know what I was, to understand and comprehend it as well as she could. However, it was very possible that she might never be ready. "Please, I don't want to be here. Let's go."
"Soon." I promised, as I reached forward to push open the doors. They hadn't cleaned up the bodies yet, and I heard her beginning to sob at the sight.
Evelyn POV
There was so much blood. So many bodies. So many people. People with jobs, friends, families. People who had lives, once upon a time.
I felt my knees buckle beneath me and the only thing that kept me from hitting the ground was Marcus's arms around me
"I am a vampire, Evelyn." He murmured, softly, into my ear. "Like you, I have to sustain myself. As much as you might dislike it, humans are my natural prey. They give my body what it needs. I feel no guilt over their deaths, as you feel no guilt over the chicken you ate last night."
I could only weep in horror as I stared at the bloodied bodies on the floor, their eyes open in shock and pain, and their throats torn where their blood had been drained from their bodies. How could he equate this—how could he equate murdering people—to slaughtering animals? This was wrong, on so many levels. I didn't want to be here, I didn't want to see this. I didn't want to know that Marcus felt this way.
"That's what you were doing today?" I asked, swallowing down the bile I felt creeping up at the back of my throat. "...Feeding?"
"Yes." He said evenly. "And I will again tonight."
I shook my head in disbelief. How could he do this? How could anyone live like this?
"And, if you allow me to turn you, you shall do the same."
No. No, I wouldn't. I couldn't. I would join Aiden, before I would become that.
"Just kill me." I whispered, barely even recognizing my own voice as I said the words.
"What?!" His words were clipped and abrupt, and I knew that I had shocked him. "No!"
"I'll never let you turn me." I asserted, desperately. "I don't want to be like you, and I don't want to live like this. So, just kill me, please."
"I'm not your wife." I continued, when he said nothing. "I'm not Didyme. I'm nothing to you—I'm blood, just like my brother. Please, just put me out of my misery. I... I can't watch this, I can't live like this, please. I'm begging you."
He moved forward to close the doors as two vampires I didn't recognize moved forward from the side entrance with what looked like jugs of some kind of cleaning agent. I had no idea how they hoped to ever make that floor clean again. I felt a little relief when they were out of sight, but they certainly weren't out of mind.
Marcus lowered us to the ground, but he didn't let me go. Instead, he pulled me closer to him, tucking my head under his chin. He made a gentle, soothing noise as he rubbed my back up and down, allowing me to cry quietly in his grasp.
"Shh, shh..." He whispered. "I'm not going to kill you. Never, Evelyn, I could never kill you."
"Why?" I croaked, pathetically. "Because I look like her?"
"No. Stop." He demanded, his words slow, broken, and tortured-sounding.
"Then, why?" I implored.
"I love you, Evelyn." He said, emphatically. "I felt cold and dead inside before you came into my life. You've made me feel things I didn't think I would ever feel again. You've made me feel so alive, so happy. This isn't about Didyme. This is about you."
I sniffled. I wanted to believe him, but I just didn't know how to. Why? Why, all of this? Why torture me like this if he loved me so much?
"Can't you see? I tell you these things because I love you, because I respect you too much to lie to you."
I felt so vulnerable, in that moment. Not because he had his arms around me, or because I knew he could crush me, or drain my blood in an instant. It was a different kind of vulnerability, like he had been able to read my mind. Was I really such an open book? Or was it just him that could see through me so well?
"You don't have to see it, or think about it again, and we don't have to talk about it, but this is the truth. I am a killer, my dear."