The Heart's Ashes
Page 37

“Guy?” Mike’s brow lowered on one side, his body turning slowly to look down the hall to Emily’s room. “What guy?”
“Bye,” I called, closing the front door behind me, walking a little faster in case Mike decided to physically stop me from going out tonight. He didn’t.
“So, I’m not getting your heart, ehy?” Eric grinned as I climbed into his four-wheel-drive.
“You already know that. I made it very clear.”
“I know. It just hurt to hear you say it.”
“Shut up, Eric. It’s not my heart you want.”
“Very true.” He winked as we turned the corner.
“God, my heart is still pounding.” A pulse-steadying hand rested against my chest as we headed away from the Big Top. “That was the best circus show I’ve ever been to.”
“I’m going to assume you liked it, then.” Eric, pinning his arm to my waist, dipped his long fingers into my popcorn bucket, his grin brightened by the flashing lights of carnival rides.
“It was freaky—but very amazing. I can’t believe some of the tricks you vampires can do. I can see why us humans have believed in magic for so long.”
“So, you weren’t scared?”
I laughed, feeling sheepish about all the screaming and diving into the concealment of Eric’s shoulder. “Was that a rhetorical question?”
Eric just laughed.
“It’s not something I’d take Sam to see, especially with all the nudity.”
“It’s not nudity, Amara. It’s body paint.”
“I know. But you could see everything on those girls.”
“Just the way I like it.” A memory very clearly spread across his thoughts then, making him smile. “So, what about that lion act? Were you afraid it might jump the railing and eat you?”
“Oh my God, yes.” I laughed out the words and linked arms with him, snuggling closer. “But, I knew you’d take care of me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure; I have been trying to get a taste of your blood since I met you last month.”
“Yeah. Blood, I don’t mind...it’s what follows.”
Eric stopped walking and turned to face me. “What if I promised you?” He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “I could promise you we won’t do that.”
“We both know you can’t make those kinds of promises. I can’t even do that. I have enough trouble controlling my human urges as it is now—mix that with blood and...” I hoped Eric would get my drift.
“Human urges?” His easy smile separated us from the crowd for a moment.
“Yes, I get urges.”
“Like...?” He walked more eagerly beside me.
I shook my head. A part of me wanted to tell him; a part of me wanted to grab his hand and press it to my waist—to hold it there and walk closely until we both decided to go home, take off all our clothes and lay chest to chest—just feeling the connection of skin on skin—the closeness of touch, of being loved.
Only it wouldn’t be love. Not with Eric. But it could feel like love—just for a while. Just long enough to...
“Hey.” He clicked his fingers in front of my face. “You still in there?”
“Ur, yeah, sorry.” I smiled sheepishly.
“So, you were saying?”
“No, I wasn’t.”
“Oh, come on, Amara. I like the idea of you having urges—it makes you seem more...human.”
“I am human.”
“I know. But you deny yourself any human feelings, so it kinda makes it hard for me to get what I want from you.”
“And, what exactly is that—just to be profoundly clear.” I wedged my hands onto my hips.
“I want your tiny little body—” he looked down at my hips as he pulled them to his, “—to be against mine. I want your sweet, human breath, to be on my lips, my chest, and other places good girls don’t go.” He smiled at my open-mouthed expression. “And I want to do things to you no other guy is man enough to do, all while planning to keep you alive.”
“Planning to?”
“It’s just—” He brushed my hair over my shoulder and rolled his spine so we leaned out from each other a little, our hips together like a ribbon-bound bunch of posies. “When I have sex with a human, it’s always so meaningless, because I know I’ll kill her shortly after. I don’t have to be gentle or caring or thoughtful. With you, it’s different.”
I used my elbows to push away from him. “That’s so frickin creepy, in so many ways, I can’t even process it.”
Eric just laughed at me, staying a few steps behind my storm-off.
“What!” I demanded, turning back to face him.
“You just said frickin.”
My eyes, betraying me by offering a smile, blinked a few extra times as I tried to hold it back, but, then, I burst into a light chuckle as well.
“Come on,” Eric said, taking my hand. “Let’s go on that carousel you’ve been waiting for, then we’ll go back to yours and make sweet—er, love?”
“Hm,” I scoffed indignantly. “I don’t make love anymore—that stuff was for the chivalrous and gallant Knight boy I used to think loved me.”
“Oh, ho-ho—” Eric bounced a little. “What’s this I hear? Spite? Is our Ara-Rose becoming jaded and resentful?”
I shrugged. “I guess so.” I was. I didn’t know why, but being at Karnivale, I just felt edgy and used and alone and...closer to David, who I knew wasn’t coming back for me. But despite that, still blurted out, “Do you think he could be here?”
Eric’s scoff sounded like a music box being wound up, tight and scornful. “No. Unless he has a death wish.”
I offered him some popcorn, seeming casual. “Well, what if he might be just—”
“Amara, forget David.” He chewed the popcorn as he spoke. “Last I heard, one of his friends saw him in Egypt—he was not the same David.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you know how if we don’t eat for a while, we kind of get—”
“Monstrous?”
“Yeah, well, the same goes for extreme pain. It’s the body’s way of coping; our defence mechanism, you might say.”