The sun rose a couple of hours ago and I haven’t moved. I just lie on my cold empty bed and stare at the slightly ajar door leading to a dark bathroom. Thinking, regrettably, about Toby. About those flowers he would leave me all those years ago and how excited I would be every time I saw them. He noticed a book I was reading one day about flowers. An encyclopedia of sorts. I liked the pictures. I liked reading the descriptions and imagining their smells. Their petals swaying in the breeze. But Toby thought of them as communication. Each flower had a meaning. And he knew them all. So sometimes, when he knew he wouldn’t be able to see me for a while, he would leave me some dotted around in places he knew I would visit during the next few days. When I was doing laundry, or stuck in the library, I would sometimes find a single flower on the window ledge. He was talking to me. All the time. Even when he wasn’t there. Knowing that someone was thinking of me and missing me made me so happy. I think about how I used to bound towards him when he came to visit. How I loved him. Needed him. Wanted him. He was an obsession. A drug. I’d have chosen him over food or drink. Over air.
How things have changed.
I think now I’ve become his obsession. I’ve done something I never did in all those years we were together and it’s driving him crazy.
I never said no.
I never complained or resisted.
I gave him everything he ever wanted, even when it hurt. When it broke my heart or my bones. When it made me cry or bleed.
He had all of me. Absolutely every inch. Inside and out.
And I wonder… if he hadn’t left me, would he still have all of me? Would I still be his Red?
I never fought with Toby. We never argued. Never disagreed. Because all I wanted was whatever he wanted. Made life easy and simple. But with Gabriel, we seem to fight all the time. We constantly disagree. I’m nearly always yelling and he’s almost always angry with me and frustrated that I call him out on his crap.
It hits me suddenly.
Gabriel is the first person in my entire life that I’ve ever been comfortable enough and felt safe enough with to feel that I can disagree with him. That I can argue my side and my opinion. And he lets me. Yeah, he gets angry. But he wouldn’t get angry unless he cared. He never argued with anyone else before I came along. Collins told me that, shortly before he was taken away. Grayson wanted to do something? Fine. One of his girls wanted to go somewhere he didn’t? He told them to go and not bother coming back.
He just didn’t care.
He cares now.
We’re both new to this. An equal and loving relationship. It doesn’t help that we’re trying to figure it all out while being stuck in the middle of a war between witch and human. Father and son. Brother and brother.
The sound of Gabriel’s back shuffling against the door interrupts my thoughts. He’s been out in the hall since I kicked him out. He keeps attempting to talk to me, but the conversation is very one sided. He shuffles again, muttering about his arse killing him. I roll over and pull up my knees, once more staring intently at the dark gap of the bathroom door.
How did Toby get her in there? Was she already dead? Was she unconscious? If I’d have woken earlier, would she still be alive? Would Toby have strung me up instead?’
I grab a pillow and smother my face, desperate to shut out my thoughts. Of course, it doesn’t. And now my senses are overwhelmed by Gabriel’s scent which makes me ache for him. But no. I have to hold my ground. I’m angry with him and he needs to know that I mean it when I say I will not be lied to. Tossing the pillow to the floor, I sit and pull my hair back into a ponytail. He’s still outside, respecting my wish for space. That just makes me want to be back in his arms even more.
Considerate prick.
I move to the window sill and try to prize it open. But the Nomads went to town with the nails and they are well and truly sealed shut.
‘Beautiful?’ Gabriel calls tentatively through the door. He waits for a moment but I don’t respond. ‘I’m going downstairs for some food. Do you want anything?’
Silence.
‘I’ll bring you something up,’ he mutters sadly. ‘I know what you like. I’ll bring you something…’ His words peter out. I hear his head rest against the door. ‘Please don’t hide away from me. I only did what I thought was best. I’m trying so hard to keep you safe and protect you from anything that might hurt you. That’s all. When I come back up, I want to talk. I love you.’ He waits again. ‘Lilly, I love you.’
After a moment, I reply quietly, ‘I love you, too.’
I hear him give a small and relieved little sigh before heading downstairs.
How can I feel even more alone? I hate feeling so betrayed and angry. And at the same time, I know that I would feel so much better if I could just fall into Gabriel’s arms. If he would slide beneath the covers with me right now and entwine himself around me like he usually does. No place is more relaxing than lying on his chest listening to the steady thump thump of his heart. I love how he chuckles softly as I doze while he watches his terrible movies. How my skin tingles as he runs his fingers along my arms.
But he’s the reason for my hurt right now.
Well, him and his brothers.
If only I could find the necklace. I hate the idea of searching through my memories again. Last time was a disaster.
Seeing all that blood.
My body gives an involuntary shudder at the memory of me in that barn surrounded by bodies. But then I remember the reason why I did that. Why I killed six men so brutally.
They stood by and did nothing as Toby…
Toby.
Fucking Toby.
I bet he has the necklace. I bet Grayson is right and he has it.
Or maybe…
My attention shifts to the door and my feet take me towards it. When I open it up, Ste turns around and rests his hand on his weapon.
‘Everything okay, Miss Hoop-Hey!’
He doesn’t get to finish his question as I barge past him and along the corridor to my right. Running my hand along the bannister, I look down below at the spiraling staircase and see a few Nomad guards walking about below. I pass the dozens of priceless paintings hanging on the wall. Past the Rembrandt, Picasso and the Dali. I turn right again and carry on along the landing. I stride past the Ming vases and the stupid suit of armour, with Ste following close behind the whole way asking what the hell I’m doing.
I finally come to the door at the very end of the hall.
Like both Gabriel’s and Grayson’s bedroom doors, they’re large, heavy double-doors.
I look up at them with a tightness to my chest and struggle to swallow with how dry my mouth has suddenly become.
Toby’s bedroom.
I think of him strolling casually up to these doors and heading inside, whistling as he goes. I watch him pass me with his hands in his pockets, like a ghost. I swear that I can hear his tune echoing around me.
But the doors remain closed and Toby’s image fades.
I reach out and turn the handle. It’s locked.
‘Open the door,’ I order Ste, who scoffs at my request.
‘I don’t have a key. Only Grayson – Hey! What are you doing?’
I’ve turned on my heel and started walking back along the hall. When I reach the suit of armor, I start prizing the five-foot steel pole from its grip. With a big tug, I free it and the suit tumbles to the floor in pieces with one hell of a clang. It’s a heavy weapon. It’s a struggle to hold it. I shuffle my hands up the staff so it’s closer to the great big axe on the end.
Yep. This should do it.
I lift my gaze. All my attention is on the door to Toby’s old bedroom. Ste has his gun raised and is stuttering some kind of warning.
‘Just get out of the way, you idiot,’ I bark, walking past him and his sodding gun. The noise from the falling suit of armour has Hendrix bellowing up the stairs, demanding to know what’s going on. I hear his hurried footsteps coming this way as I carry on with my descent on the door.
I lift the axe. And with all my strength, I bring it down on the lock.
It doesn’t open. But I’ve made a good start on breaking through. When I try to yank it out, the damn thing’s stuck. I rest the sole of my shoe on the door and heave, prizing it free. And with another determined yell, I bring the blade down once more.
The door opens and the lock falls with a thud at my feet.
I drop the axe and look over my shoulder. Hendrix is behind me, watching.
‘Are you going to stop me going in there?’ I ask, wiping the thin layer of sweat from my brow.
‘Ya might find something ya wish ya hadn’t,’ he grunts. ‘Stopping ya would be doing ya a favour.’
‘And since when have you wanted to do me any favours?’ I remind him, making the corners of his mouth twitch into a slight smirk.
He nods over my shoulder. ‘Well go on then. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.’
He’s letting me go in? He’s not fetching Grayson or dragging me off?
I turn with a lingering and suspicious look to the vampire. But he remains exactly where he is.
I face the door, take a breath, and head inside.
