Ashes

“Cassie.” Chris stood swiftly, his stool sliding out from under him. She turned slowly back to him, feeling like a wooden marionette. Chris stared silently back at her, his eyes troubled and sad. “I’m going to stay on the couch tonight.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand, silencing her. “My mom will be fine for one night, she’s already home.”

Cassie nodded slowly. She fled from the room before the tears that burned her eyes fell. She had already cried once tonight, she would not do so again. Racing up the stairs, she closed the door, leaning heavily against it as she tried to breathe evenly, as she struggled to keep control of her tumultuous emotions.

Before she had met Devon she had never cried, she had never been emotional. But ever since he had walked into her life, she had been a basket case, unsettled and rattled. Devon had shaken her to the very core of her foundations, breaking through the walls that had kept her separated from her emotions, most humans, and pain.

Only Chris and Melissa had known who and what she was, though they had never been able to truly reach her. Never been able to get her to truly live again, once the knowledge of what she was had completely shut her down. But Devon had changed all that. He had shattered her walls, torn into her heart, and ripped into her soul to bring her back to life.

For the first time in years she had allowed herself to trust again, and she was terrified that that trust had been misplaced. Terrified that this wonderful reprieve she was experiencing with life, and hopes, and dreams, was ruined. She was terrified that she would become the lost, walking dead person she had been before. And she did not want to be that person again. She did not think she could survive the loss of everything again.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed away from the door, determined to stay in control. There was no point in losing it now when she didn’t know the whole truth. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if she turned into a raving loony. Cassie paced restlessly, flipping the TV on in the hope that it would drown out her thoughts. It didn’t work.

She watched the clock tick the minutes by with excruciating slowness, but still he didn’t come. At eleven she slumped onto the bed. Her nervous energy was no longer enough to keep her exhausted, wounded body moving. Drawing her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees as her thoughts turned even more troublesome.

What if he didn’t come to her tonight? What if seeing Isla reminded him of what he was missing? Of what she could never be? What if he decided that Isla was what he truly wanted in a woman, and that she was just a dull comparison?

Cassie bit down on her trembling bottom lip. She would not cry. She would not. He would come, she told herself. Though she tried to reassure herself of this, doubt kept rearing its ugly head. Isla had managed to plant a field of uncertainty in her.

A subtle shifting of the shadows snapped her head around. A cry of delight rose up in her throat; it strangled and died before she could release it. Devon sat outside her window, his emerald eyes eerily bright in the light of the half moon. Cassie could only stare at him, unable to move as she was captured by the mesmerizing beauty of him. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answers to her questions, and she certainly wasn’t ready for their relationship to end tonight, if that was what it came down to.

Gathering the last dregs of her remaining strength, she forced herself up from the bed. Though the window was unlocked, she knew that he would not come in unless she let him in. She stopped at the window, her hands shaking, her heart pounding. Sliding the window up, she stepped slowly back to allow him access.

He hesitated for a moment before slipping as silently as a wraith inside. Her breath hitched, her fingers itched, and it took all she had not to fling herself into his arms. He was the one that she sought out for comfort and protection. The one that she took solace in when she wanted to shut out the rest of the world. Now, he was the one that she wanted to shut out, or at least she wanted to shut his past out.

There was a fierce hope in his eyes, such a ferocious need that she almost caved. She almost flung herself into his arms as she lost herself to the love, comfort, and shelter that he offered. But she could not do that. She could not continue to be an ostrich with her head stuck in the sand when it came to him.

She had been avoiding his past for too long, and tonight it had nearly cost them all their lives. She could no longer plead ignorance, for to do so may very well be the death of one of them. No, no matter how much it hurt, and no matter how much she did not want to hear it, she was finally going to hear it. She was going to be strong again, not the weakling that she had become. She was going to be strong, and she was going to learn everything she could about him. And it was going to be painful, she was certain of that.

She opened her mouth and popped out the first question that came to mind. “Who is Annabelle?”

CHAPTER 18

Devon closed his eyes, his hands twitched at his sides. He had known that this was coming, that she would want answers, that one day she would wonder about his past. He had just hoped that it would be under better circumstances. He had just wished that it would not happen when she had that hurt, lost look in her lovely eyes.

Pain and confusion radiated from her, beating at him with the force of a tsunami. He wanted nothing more than to take hold of her, pull her close, and ease the anguish that he had caused her. But he knew that she didn’t want his touch now, that she couldn’t handle it. He could not make the first move here; she would have to come to him. He just wasn’t sure if she would come to him when he was done.

He was going to cause her more hurt before this night was over, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was going to kill Isla and Julian when he saw them again. He would make sure that they paid for wounding her in such a way. Her physical pain had been nothing compared to the emotional chaos radiating from her. Her physical wounds would heal; he was not sure the emotional ones would.

Taking a deep breath, Devon slowly opened his eyes. He had fed well due to the toll that this night had put on him, but he was not sure it had been enough. This was going to be much more draining then the fight earlier. Her misty eyes held his, the startling violet in them standing out vividly to his heightened sense of sight.

How did he tell her who Annabelle was without driving her further away? Without increasing the doubt and lack of self confidence that she radiated now? Taking a deep breath, he decided to just plunge in; putting it off any longer would only cause her anxiety to grow.

“Annabelle was a woman that I was in love with.”