When Ember woke, she was still tired. She felt as though she’d not slept at all, and yet, she knew she had. All the coffee in the world couldn’t seem to chase her exhaustion away, and as she sat at the kitchen table, she couldn’t quite seem to get a grasp on herself. She was confused, but she didn’t know why. She felt as though there was something missing, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. When she found a small suitcase packed with clothing and toiletries, she started to wonder, not for the first time in her life, if she was perhaps going a bit insane. Her class was finally finished, and there was nothing left for her to do but wait to receive her diploma, and as she thought back about her semester, she noticed more holes and missing information. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember the professor. It made no sense to her whatsoever, but he, or she for that matter, was simply missing. She recalled the other students, she recalled giving an atrociously delivered speech, but there were holes in everything, and the more she tried to remember, the foggier her mind became.
She discovered five messages from a man she had interviewed with, and she knew she’d intentionally ignored them, but try as she might, she couldn’t remember why. She called him back and apologized for not getting back to him sooner, saying she’d had to go out of town unexpectedly. He must have bought her excuse because the next she knew, she had a second interview set up for the following day.
Ember spent the rest of the day feeling a bit loony, and by that night she was no clearer on what was missing from her life than she was when she woke that morning. When she woke in the middle of the night, she was crying. She was depressed, and she didn’t understand why, and by the next morning she was absolutely certain she was losing her mind. But there was nothing to be done about it. She had an interview for a child psychologist position, and psychologists simply weren’t allowed to be crazy.
Chapter 13
Truman was watching as Ember entered the hospital the next day for an interview. He was watching when she arrived at the café to work her shift later on that same day. And he was watching every last move she made for the next long weeks without her. He was more depressed than he thought ever possible, and were he able to stop hunting and feeding and just shrivel up and die, he likely would have. He didn’t want a life without her, but he couldn’t die and leave her unprotected. He had to know she was safe, and so every moment he was able, he watched her. He’d spent twelve years doing this already, he could do it for another seventy or so if need be, and once she’d passed away, he would allow himself to wither away and die as well. His obsession would leave him devastated time and again as he watched her date, fall in love, marry, but he had to know she was okay. It was more important than even his feelings and desire for her.
He inevitably had to make time for Boston or New York on occasion, but he dreaded it every time he had to leave her. He worried incessantly when he was away from her, but he couldn’t hunt in Portland—it was too damn small. Boston and New York were never short on monsters that he was happy to pass judgment and condemnation on, and he could destroy them without so much as the police batting an eye. Portland was different. It had its fair share of monsters he’d gladly devour if given the chance, but there was far more risk of discovery.
He’d done as his family had asked. He’d wiped her mind of him to protect her, and he was now to suffer an eternity without the one woman he loved above all else in this world. Amazing to have lived so long and to never have found anything to surpass this love, but there it was—she was his everything. Mason wasn’t happy he’d not returned to them after the deed was done, but he couldn’t have truly expected that he would after they tortured him. He had half a mind to take her to the council. Mason shunned the council, a collaboration of the family heads of nearly all vampire clans in their region. But not his own. Mason had held out long ago after some warring dispute that Truman himself could hardly remember. The council was far from judicious, but they were certainly more moral and ordered than his own dark and greedy clan leader.
He’d never actually hated his own family, just its leader. Ironically, Mason had always acted as though he ought to owe them some allegiance. Instead, he hated the man. His own sire had long ago been destroyed, and it was the very reason he was allowed to roam free and live his life as he chose for the most part. A vampire was bound to his sire until their demise, and it was only then that most vampires gained some semblance of personal freedom, ownership, leadership, and the ability to rise in the ranks of their clan. Oddly enough, Truman was the most senior of his clan, being the only survivor of the eldest vampire to have sired in his family line. But he’d turned away a long time ago, and as much as Mason might want to pull him back within his fold, it was not so he could lead as he rightly could, but so he could control him and dominate him. Truman offended him when he turned his back, and Mason no doubt saw him as a challenge to his rule, though Truman had never wished for the bureaucracy of that position. Mason had forever wanted to drag him back to demoralize him. And so he stayed away to live his life in solitude, choosing to walk alone for the rest of eternity and personally charged with protecting the one person in the world who meant anything to him.
When he returned to Portland after hunting in Boston a mere month after Ember forgot him, he found her leaving the café after a shift. It was raining, and as she trudged home in a downpour, he watched from his car, wanting to shelter her and warm her from the weather. When a figure darted out from an alley, he watched in horror as it grabbed Ember, pulling her within. He charged from his car to the spot he last saw her, and it was only as he entered the alley that he caught Thomas’ scent, and he knew in that instant that Ember’s life was in danger. The alley didn’t pass through to another street but instead dead-ended some two hundred or so yards from the street. It was littered with a couple of Dumpsters, debris, garbage, and a number of wooden pallets. He moved as fast as his feet could carry him and with impossible quietness, and as he rounded the last Dumpster ready to attack, he saw her. It was too late. His mouth was attached to her throat, and her skin was paling.
He didn’t have time to think as he leaped toward Thomas, slamming him against the back wall of the alley hard. The man’s skull crunched, and when it did, his jaw let loose Ember’s neck, and she sank to her knees and fell forward onto her stomach. He was holding Thomas to the wall with his hand to the man’s neck. His face was scrunched in fury, and his fangs were fully protracted and ready to destroy.
Thomas laughed a weak laugh as blood spilled from his ears and nose as his brain hemorrhaged. “She’s dead, you stupid fuck.” He was choking on the cold, dead blood that was draining from his brain, and he was fading fast. With all the fury this monster deserved, Truman wrenched hard with his hands and elbows and tore. The man’s neck crunched as the bones splintered and severed, and the ripping sound of his flesh was loud and grotesque as Truman’s force tore through the skin and connective tissue. His head was torn loose from his body, and he hurled it against the brick wall at the side of the alley. Truman was growling and his teeth were barred, but as he spun to find Ember, his face dropped and his growl turned to a howl of pain. She was trying to stand, and as she got her feet under her body, she took a couple of steps. She was staggering, and as he watched in horror, she fell back to her knees. Blood dripped from the gaping wound on her neck, and catching her just before she collapsed to the ground, he turned her over and eased her down to the dirty concrete.