Chapter 15
It was two days later that Ember was moved to Truman’s room. He had avoided seeing her after their first encounter, and while he felt guilty for leaving her alone in that room, he couldn’t bear to see her because he didn’t know how to feel about her. In truth, he knew exactly how he felt about her, he just couldn’t cope with the fact he’d failed to give her memories back. He would be responsible for her for the rest of his long life, and faced with the very real possibility that she would never remember him or their time together was sobering. Could he love a stranger for eternity, or would that just drive him insane? There was no question of his own love for her; that hadn’t faltered a bit, but the loss of her love for him was agonizing. He’d done it. He’d done it because he had to, and this was the consequence, and now that she was safe, he wasn’t sure how to cope with it.
She was escorted in by Dr. Bremmer, and he stilled the moment she crossed his threshold. She looked stunning in another white gown that fit her to a T. She looked far stronger, but Dr. Bremmer kept a cautious hand on her elbow as she walked. Truman was sitting at the desk working on a correspondence he needed to send to his own family declaring his right as head of their clan and demanding that Mason step down. After spending the past few days in this place and reviewing just how responsible Mason was for Ember’s near demise and the pain he’d caused them both, he was ready, and demand by the council aside, he wanted to destroy Mason for his own personal reasons.
He watched, suddenly nervous, as Bremmer walked her to the chair in front of the desk. She sat and watched him, and in his own nervousness, he looked away from her to Bremmer. He didn’t want to be rude to her, but he was struggling.
“How soon do I need to sire her?” She continued to watch Truman with a guarded expression. She seemed cautious and wary of him and only slightly intrigued. Truman was just plain terrified of her in this state. It was as though she had this power to break his heart, and it had him unable to even look at her.
“The council wants it done today. She’s strong enough.”
“And can we do it in private, or does someone need to watch?”
“You may do it in private. We’ll know, after all, if it’s not done. Make sure she’s ready. She doesn’t yet know how to stimulate her teeth, and she needs to feed effectively if she’s going to keep up with what you’re taking from her body. You don’t want to drain her before she’s taken enough from you to survive it.” Just another worry to add to the heap. Now Truman would have to try not to kill the woman he loved and who thought he was a stranger when he sired her. This was turning out to be more of a nightmare than he thought he could handle. But even as he considered it, his jaw ached in want to sink his teeth into her. She, on the other hand, gave him no reaction whatsoever. There was certainly no arousal of her body, and the adrenaline usually sensed from a vampire’s body as they readied themselves to bite was absent as well. She was just cold and distant, watching.
When Bremmer finally left, she stayed staring. “Do you have any questions for me?” He wanted to be open with her, and while he was in a hell of uncertainty, he wanted to hear her voice.
“Have we fucked?” He didn’t generally associate such language with her, but there was an air of passive-aggressiveness to her demeanor that made it clear she was not in a good place with any of this either.
“Yes.” His answer was simple, and he offered no elaboration.
“How many times?”
“More times than I can recall. For the most part this past summer, though the first time was on the night of your mother’s funeral.”
“So you just showed up, fucked me, and then wiped my memory of you just to do it all over again? How very convenient for you.” She stood and walked away to the bedroom without giving him a chance to comment. She was bitter, and his defensiveness had him irritated with her. He didn’t want to be upset with her, but it was hard not to feel defensive at her words. She had no right to make the assumptions she had without understanding his motives, and while he understood she was angry in her confusion, it had his own anger building, and he hated it. It was just another reminder of how far apart they were from one another in this new life.
He gave her space and tried to concentrate on what he needed to accomplish. The council made it clear that while he’d be given time to adjust to this life with her, they expected the intentions of the council to be made clear to Mason without delay. But when the end of night was near, and the sun ready to dawn, he closed the curtains and retired to the bedroom. He couldn’t wait any longer, and he was ready to be done with it. He found her lying awake in the middle of the bed, staring at the ceiling high above. She looked incredible in the white gown. It was nothing more than jersey-knit cotton, so very casual, but pristine white and hugging her figure beautifully.
She looked thin—too thin after wasting away for days as her body tried to die. He could see the slight jut of her hip bones, and it brought painful memories of making love to her to his mind. He may never be able to make love to her again, and this knowledge was hard to swallow. Her eyes found his, and she regarded him coolly. But he was done letting his apprehension dictate his foul mood. If he had any hope of ever reaching her, he’d have to let her see his want for her. But it was terrifying. Her rejection could kill him.
When he climbed onto the bed next to her, kneeling back on his heels, he watched her, refusing to look away. He reached for her hand, and she stiffened at his touch. It hurt, but he stowed the pain and pulled her up to sit in front of him as her eyes faltered and glanced away.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Ember, but I’m not going to tolerate you passing judgment on things you know nothing about.” His tone was as cool as her expression, and as her eyes flitted away from his in nervousness, he continued, leaning to her ear and holding her face still to listen to every last word he chose to give her. “We fucked because we were in love, and whether you can recall the memories or not, I’ll not allow you to disrespect what we did just because you can’t yet remember it. Do you understand?” She nodded stiffly as he clutched her cheek with an insistent hand. He was frightening her, but it needed to be said. “Now open your mouth.”
He released her cheek, and she pulled back from him, meeting his eyes and then glancing away quickly. When she looked back, she was nibbling on her lower lip, and she was nervous. He lifted her top lip with his thumbs, studying her incisors. There was a slight point to her fangs, but they were almost completely retracted. She couldn’t feed like this, and he would kill her quickly if she couldn’t keep up with his pace. There were two very effective ways of protracting fangs before a vampire figured out how to control it on their own—arousal and the smell of blood. While he would have preferred the first, he was quite certain the latter was the most appropriate approach at this moment.
He lifted his wrist to his mouth and crunched through his own skin, withdrawing his fangs quickly. He held his wrist up to Ember’s mouth and nose, and she clamped her hand over her mouth and her eyes teared. She obviously felt her fangs responding, and it scared her. He shushed her and pulled her hand from her mouth, offering her his wrist again. She whimpered in her nervousness and held her lips tightly closed. He reached with his other hand, watching her eyes the whole time, to her lips. He lifted her top lip again with his thumb, and she tried to stop him for only a second before she gave up. He lifted and saw what he wanted to see. She was ready. “Good girl. Now turn around.”