Chapter 12

She's here! She's inside my head! The worried almost frantic thought bulldozed through the elation that had encompassed him. Before had been nice, but now felt like an intrusion. He tried to push her out until he realized that it wasn't just his mind anymore.

He recognized the dark crevices of his mind, like deep ocean caves, filled with sadness and repressed anger over the years. He recognized the happy moments, like sunlight dappled on the surface of the water viewed from a few feet below.

But the water was broken by sunny meadows and the smell of old gyms. He could feel insecurities that were not his own—things he had never before felt. Clara had a fear of what people thought or said about her that magnified his own—a fear that people would dislike her if she said the wrong thing. A fear so sharp in fact, that she often chose not to speak at all. And he felt elation in her when she twirling through the air, breaking free of it all. She was in one word: breathtaking.

But he was still afraid to have her here. This was his sanctuary. And there were so many things about himself that he didn't want her to know. And he suspected that this force that was making her show him her vulnerabilities was also working on him.

Suddenly she was standing before him in one of the crevices he was attempting to hide him. The core of her mind embraced his the way their bodies were embracing just now. She was the one who offered comfort this time.

Don't be afraid. Don't.

You don't understand, he replied on a thought. You don't have things to be ashamed of.

She only held him more tightly. I know there are things in your past. I accept that. But look at yourself now. Are you that person?

She was sending tendrils of thought toward him. Tendrils of love and concern. The feelings almost abated him into a calm. But he managed to hang onto one reservation. Are you sure you can handle who I am now? I'm not like you Clara.

Would she be able to handle the fact that he had just bitten her? That he was probably still drinking her blood as their minds were entangled? He hadn't been able to resist. He had wanted to. What right did he have to drink her blood? But when here throat was so near, and he had been lost in the heat of passion—he'd lost control. And somehow, drinking her blood had entwined their minds. He knew that drinking blood increased telepathic rapport, but it had never been so strong before. He was usually able to push it away.

And could she handle the fact that there was such thing as a Night World? A society of people that hated humans? Were ruthless toward them?

He was just able to stop these thoughts from flowing to her mind. The force that had brought them together was trying to rip out his darkest secrets. It wanted to throw his mind into a stark, naked illumination until he could hold nothing back.

Well, the only way to find out is to see. Clara removed herself from the embrace and hurried to view his mind, stroking through the sun-dappled waters with laughter and ease. She sent a thought back to him. I didn't know you were a swimmer!

Clara, wait! He attempted to chase after her thought. It's not all good and nice.

When she continued her search, his thought became desperate. Clara, please!

Before he could stop himself, he was beached on a shore. And dozens of images were fighting their way into his memory. Clara going on camp outs with her family. Clara and Lizzie at the gym, both working harder and harder to beat the other one at the task while pretending it wasn't competitive. A young Clara having a pillow fight with Jim. Her heart wrenching when Jim came home one day with a bloody nose because the other boys were picking on him. Her face turning hot and red because she couldn't think of anything to say. Admiring Bracken from a distance but never having the courage to talk to him.

Drew felt a burst of anger at this thought.

But the images were coming faster now so he couldn't focus on his brother. Anger at Drew for subjecting her brother to a whirly—he remembered that. He'd only done it because his friends were egging him on. He knew it was no excuse.

But anger toward him for more than that. Every time she saw some sliced tires in the parking lot, or the broken lights in the back of the library, she thought of Drew. The list of things she thought of when his name was mentioned marched on. The obscene graffiti spray painted over the fresh new coat on Lizzie's car. The mysterious stranger that drove Charlie Toth's car off a bridge last year. The guy who'd broken up with her best friend just because he was feeling moody.

He knew that he was responsible for most of the accusations. The others were products of his friends. But he couldn't help but feel indignation toward the accusations. If you think so badly of me, then what are you still doing here? He asked furiously.

She was too involved in his thoughts to answer. He would be surprised if she even heard him at all.

But the response to his question came in images. Gratitude toward Drew when he stopped Jordan from flipping up her skirt. Realizing suddenly that she felt comfortable around him when she was moving through her gymnastics routines. Realizing that maybe he wasn't what she thought after all. Suddenly caring what he thought and worrying that she talked too much around him. Fear of the unknown when they touched at his house. Unbearable guilt at the look in his eyes after she had kissed his brother. And a feeling of wanting to comfort him—to make everything better.

He felt his anger receding. He only wanted to be gentle toward her, to help her the way she wanted to help him. She had so many insecurities that were groundless. He wanted her to know that she didn't have to be so afraid of what people thought.

He began to search through their minds, looking for her. He instinctively knew which way to look. He dove into the sun dappled waters and strove deeper. A fear entered him when he knew where he was going. It was a particularly dark cave that held some of his darkest secrets.

Clara, don't! He called out. Please don't! You don't want to know.

But it was too late. He could feel her every thought—her every reaction—even from here. He could see what she was seeing. An unconscious Lizzie sitting in the passenger seat of his car. His mouth was at her neck. Slowly his head lifted, showing a bestial expression. Two fangs indented his lower lip. His mouth was cherry-red from blood.

Shock reverberated through her core, reaching out through her whole mind. She was shaking and ripping frantically at the glue that held their minds together. Her thoughts held the verge of hysteria in them.

Oh, no. No. No. It can't be true. It can't be real. He—he can't be. There's no such thing as vampires. I'm hallucinating. This has to be a dream. All of it. There's no way it can be real—

She began to blabber on nonsenically as her normal, orderly world was shattering into confusion.

He tried to pull her to him; to calm the shaking that was threatening to pull them apart. It's okay, he soothed. It's real, but it's okay. I would never hurt you. You know that, right?

Nothing he could say would break through to her.

And her entire mind was thread with spasms. Parts of him felt raw and aching where she had managed to rip her thoughts away from his. She was becoming farther and farther apart, fighting the force that was trying to keep them together.

But it wasn't time yet. There was still more that had to happen before the force would calmly let them extricate from each other. He didn't know what that more was. But something had to be resolved. Somehow, by trying to break free early, she was violating some law that made his whole being protest.

His nerves were on fire and she wouldn't stop wrenching away.

Then their private world shattered. Suddenly he was in the little nook under the stairs. He moved his mouth away from her throat but kept her close, stroking her hair. She shimmied from his grasp and attempted to move away, but fell onto her back weakly.

Drew felt sudden shame as he realized what her problem was. He had drunk too much blood. He had been so engrossed in their world that he hadn't been able to stop himself.

"Oh, Clara, I'm so sorry," he whispered as she gasped for breath.

He lifted up one knee and gathered her to him, propping her back against his arm and leg.

"Wha—what's wrong with me?" She shivered, looking dizzy.

"You lost too much blood," he said truthfully. He didn't bother to lie to her. She deserved the truth. "You'll be okay. You're just weak."

She coughed lightly, while he ran his hand through her hair.

"So you're a vampire," she managed.

"Yes," he replied, watching her intently.

"And Bracken?"

"Yes," he said again.

"And there are more of you?" she persisted.

"Many, many more," he replied a little bitterly. "And witches and werewolfs and shapeshifters. We make up a society known as the Night World. I'm sorry Clara, but we're real."

She seemed to tired and too plagued with the image of when he bit Lizzie to contest that fact. The realization was slowly hitting her. But she was taking it fairly well now. That, or she was just too sapped to make any real argument.

"Clara," he said, thinking suddenly of what he had just revealed to her. He spoke insistently, wanting her to understand. "Can you do me a favor?"

"What?" she coughed.

"Don't tell anyone that you know about the Night World. Do you hear me? You can't let anyone know. For your safety."

She frowned at him slightly. "Why not?"

"Because," Drew said, wishing that he didn't have to make her worry about such things. He wished that he could protect her from all of that. He began again. "Because if the Night World finds out, they'll kill you. We have two cardinal rules in the Night World, and one is to never let humans know we exist."

Her thick eyelashes lifted, framing her blue eyes. She looked him right in the eye, seeming to take comfort in his gaze. She had finally calmed down, and was relaxing in his grip. "And what's the other rule?"

"Never fall in love with a human," he replied. "I've broken them both."

He never even stopped to marvel at the ease in which he told her that he loved her. It was so simple and innate, and yet it burned in him so strongly. He couldn't deny it any longer. He couldn't have stopped loving her if he wanted to. There was something between them that could never be broken.

She smiled slightly at his comment, and closed her eyes as if to conserve energy. For a moment he thought she had gone to sleep, but then she spoke. "What just happened between us?"

Drew shrugged. "I don't know. I've never heard of it happening before. I wish I had a better answer for you but I don't."

With a sudden thought, he lifted his free wrist to his mouth. He felt his canines growing long. With a quick motion, he cut his wrist. He brought it toward her mouth.

"Here," he said. "Drink. It will make you stronger."

Clara opened her eyes and looked at his outstretched wrist. She shook her head vehemently. "I don't want to become a vampire."

"You won't," he assured her. "It usually takes about three exchanges of blood."

She just looked at his wrist, her eyes fixated on the welling blood. She nodded ever so slightly and he brought his wrist the rest of the way toward her mouth. She cringed as she took the first swallow and then seemed content enough to continue. Vampire blood didn't taste like human blood. He had heard that it tasted as sweet as wild berries. He himself had never tasted vampire blood.

A fuzzy connection grew between them again. It wasn't as strong as the last one. The power between them seemed to be beaten back for the moment. But he could feel his heart rate increase and the space between their minds was drilling closer. Then the space disappeared and Clara was able to speak to him telepathically, but the world didn't disappear.

Thank you, her thought rose toward him, filled with gratitude in and love.

He didn't send back words. He sent back feelings, his strong need to protect her and make her happy.

With every swallow, the color was returning to her cheeks. Finally, she pushed his hand away, severing the connection. "I've had enough," she said, sitting up slowly.

He nodded slowly, feeling hazy for the moment. He didn't want the moment to end. He wished he could keep her here, always close to him, but that wasn't always physically possible. Besides, she'd probably get annoyed with him.

"We need to go to our classes," she said. "Before we're discovered."

He nodded slowly and reluctantly and began to help her to her feet.

"You're not going to say anything about the Night World, right?" He asked again, insistently. "You'll keep it to yourself?"

She nodded and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Don't worry. I won't say anything."