Winter sat at a wooden picnic table, shielded from the snow with another wooden overhead ten feet above her.
She was staring off into the distance, watching little bits of snow drift out of the sky, landing on the cement and melting to water…
It wasn’t November yet, but the snow was already coming this year, early…
Like a storm brewing…
Cameron was currently at a hot chocolate stand that rested next to her, getting a cup for them both.
But he was next to her then, setting a cup of hot chocolate in front of her, the steam drifting out from the top telling her that it was freshly made…
After watching her stance, he set his cup on the table along with a basket of croissants.
“What’s this for?” she asked, staring at the bread.
“You dip it in the hot coco,” he said. “It’s a tradition in France. They have this specific type of hot coco that’s thick and rich in flavor—not like the ones you buy at the store and pour into hot water—and you dip the croissant in it.”
“I’ve never heard of this…” she whispered.
“Yeah, I know,” he said, chuckling. “But I know how much you want to go to France or England. You want to get out of here, huh?”
She was silent.
“It’s okay,” he said, smiling softly at her while she stared down at the cup, looking as if she were in a daze, “you don’t have to answer. Just drink.”
“Can you taste things?” she wondered then.
“Umm… yeah, I guess.”
“So…” she said, “you can eat foods you loved before, right?”
He looked as if he were thinking. “I mean, I can eat them, but after turning, they just taste blander… They still have taste, though. Just not like I remember it.”
“Is it because you thirst for blood more now?” she wondered softly.
He was silent for a moment before saying, “Yeah.”
“Do you get nutrients from food or only blood?“ she said then.
“Blood only,” he responded.
“Hmmm….”
“What are you processing in that head of yours?” he said.
“You do know there’s a blood shortage, right?”
“Yep.”
“How will vampires survive if there’s a blood shortage? Aren’t there some who won’t be able to eat or… drink?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding, “but Queen Lily made sure that problem was solved, too.”
“How so?”
“Human blood is tastier—richer, like this,” he pointed to her mug of coco, “but usually, we drink animal blood.”
“Like… cows and… pigs?”
A nod.
“That makes sense,” she whispered.
“I wanted to let you know that human blood isn’t the tastiest in the entire world.”
“Then what is?”
“Angel blood,” he said, making her slightly stiffen.
Oh, that’s right… She was an angel.
“So…” she said, “I have another question.”
“Ask away.”
“How is Kit not a rogue? He’s killed many people, and I assume out of greed.”
“Yes,” Cameron said, “it’s been out of greed, and he should be a rogue, but I honestly don’t know how he’s not….”
“Weird…” she said. “Is there some kind of black magic that makes it so you’re not a rogue?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.”
“Hmm….”
“Now drink your coco,” he said, pointing to her mug.
“Cam?” she said, voice softer.
“Yes?”
“You bit me…” she responded, “and I have angel blood… but you stopped….”
“I realized I was taking too much,” he said.
“Yes, but… you stopped.”
“I know,” he responded gently. “Not many vampires have that restraint, but at the time, I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want to kill you.”
“Oh….”
“Drink your coco now. No more questions.”
She nodded, staring down at the white mug, then back up at the streets where the moonlight glistened on the damp sidewalks.
But she managed to look away from the glittering streets and picked up her mug, inhaling the sweet scent.
She didn’t really notice Cameron watching her curiously while she took a sip, her cheeks heating as the sweetness burst in her mouth and washed over her body, making the frost in her veins melt.
“How is it?” he wondered, sounding genuinely curious.
Why? She didn’t know.
“It’s... really good,” she admitted. “I’ve never tasted something so sweet but yet... salty....”
He watched in amusement while she took another sip.
“Try dipping the croissant,” he said, pushing the basket to her with a finger.
She set the mug down onto the coffee-colored table, grasping the pastry and dipping it into the cup of coco.
And she took a bite, her cheeks heating as another rush of warmth washed over her, and she had to resist shivering.
“Good?” he wondered.
A small nod.
He made a lazy arm wave, indicating the word, Yay.
Her lashes lowered, a sudden exhaustion consuming her.
She didn’t know what time it was... but it felt like early morning...
They spent the whole day training the day before, and ended at about five, but they’d done so much today that she didn’t even know how much time had passed...
And now the exhaustion was catching up with her...
Why did Angels get tired and no one else did?
“Do you want to take some to go?” he wondered then, running a gentle hand down the length of her head.
A lazy nod.
“Alright,” he said, “I’ll be right back. Holler if you need me.”
And he stood, stepping over to the stand next to them.
Winter rested her head on the table, loving the feeling of how warm her body felt... like she originally had ice running through her veins that now was warmth...
She chewed and swallowed the last bit of croissant, closing her eyes seconds later...
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*****
When Cameron made it back to the table, he saw Winter’s head resting on the wood, her hands under her cheek like a pillow.
He bent down to see her face, seeing her lashes closed and gently fluttering as she dreamt, and how her back drifted up and down so gently with her quiet breaths.
He smiled then, shuffling some croissants into the to-go box he got earlier and setting it on the table, lifting her up seconds later.
He made sure not to bang her knees on the table, holding under her thighs while she slept.
After checking to make sure the movement didn’t wake her, he grabbed the box of croissants and started back to the hotel, walking this time instead of running.
He didn’t want to wake her up. Especially when she was sleeping so peacefully... like the angel she was...
After about twenty minutes, he made it to the front door of the motel, opening the glass skillfully with the hand that held the box.
He looked down to Winter when the bell rang above them, attempting to see if she woke to the noise.
She didn’t even stir...
“Wow...” he said, smiling down at her while he continued down the hall, “you must’ve been really tired, huh?”
When he made it to their door, he pried the key into the lock and unlocked the door, opening it seconds later.
After scanning the room for threats and found none, he closed the door behind him and stepped over to the bed, not caring to turn on the lights.
Their room was pitch black, but he could see in the dark, and Winter was dead asleep, probably not waking up anytime soon.
So he managed to pull his jacket off her and laid her gently on the bed, lifting her legs so he could pull the covers out from under her, and draped them over her seconds later.
He watched her for a moment, noting her long lashes, soft cheeks, and gentle breaths.
He couldn’t help but lean down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead, whispering for the hundredth time that day, “I love you.”
And he stood, threw the box of croissants in the mini-fridge and pulled out a bag of blood.
He went back to the bed, sitting on his side and stared down at Winter for a moment.
She slept so blissfully... so gently...
He smiled, getting into his backpack at his bedside and shuffled through the contents, pulling out a computer.
After flipping open the screen and signing in, he sipped the blood like a milkshake, waiting patiently when the desktop flashed on.
He moved to the mouse with one hand, clicking the internet while still sipping the blood, and finally lowered the bag when he typed in the search bar, Evans family deaths.
His eyes searched the screen, noticing a link to a website that said, Recent unexplained Evans family murders.
He clicked it, reading the summery.
The Evans family in Maine, US had many unexplained crime scenes with each member.
In 2015, the daughter of Samantha Evans, Amelia Evans, died of quote and quote, “suicide,” but police have found evidence that suggests murder. She had many wounds on her body that suggested she was fighting off an attacker, and the DNA under her fingernails has come back as a similar match to a family member.
Cameron’s lashes lowered when he continued reading.
Exactly a year later, the same date, Samantha Evans’ recent husband was murdered in a similar way, the DNA results matching to the same person, as well.
And this year, 2017, the house of Samantha Evans was found broken into, and the mother, as well as her daughter, Winter Evans has gone missing.
In recent studies, the DNA results match to a man accused of many other murders, Kit Longden.
Cameron kept on reading.
Though the Maine police are sure that Kit was involved, they found that that someone else’s DNA was on both bodies, and found at the recent scene of both missing women, but the police are still unsure as to who this person is, but the suspect is Samantha’s ex-husband, Dante. No one seems to know where Dante is, or anything about him. He was completely wiped from the system and his name is no longer in use.
All we know from the DNA results is that Kit Longden is Dante and Samantha’s eldest son.
Cameron’s eyes widened...
Winter’s brother... he thought.
He shut the computer then, staring off into space, eyes rounding.
She didn’t know... She didn’t even recognize him...
And he was about to bite her... kill her... Surely if Winter’s father was involved, Kit knew that she was his sister...
Then why the hell did he want to hurt her? What sane person would want to kill his sister...?
But... Kit was a vampire... which meant he was bitten before or after his father caught him and fed lies of some sort...
If Kit was killing his siblings and family... then something happened while he was in Dante’s hold...
Dante was behind this, and he had Kit wound into his grasp.
But what Cameron didn’t understand was... Why?
Why did he want to kill everyone?
It just... didn’t make sense...
But if Dante was so good at manipulating and he killed people who he “loved,” that meant he was either a sociopath or a psychopath...
And neither needed a reasonable motive, it just had to make sense to him.
He looked to Winter then, seeing her chest drift up and down softly...
Why her? Why did she have to go through this?
He stuffed his computer back into the backpack again, about to sit back up when something purple fell out of the bag, cluttering to the ground.
Winter’s notebook.
He picked it up, keeping it below the bed frame when he checked to make sure she was asleep, then sat up, opening to the first page that he hadn’t read yet.
Death... Death...
November fourth is the day someone I love dies...
I can’t explain the pain I feel... all I know is that it hurts... Imagine fire burning you inside out... on repeat everyday...
You’re not hungry, you’re not thirsty because it hurts so bad you feel sick...
First my twin... my best friend...
Second, my father...
And now my mom’s next.
What will I do? How do I live with this pain?
I can’t... I can’t...
He looked to her then, seeing her face still relaxed, brows eased, mouth slightly parted as she breathed through her nose...
He tossed the notebook off the bed, watching her when it hit the floor to see if she would move.
But she didn’t even wince.
So he got under the covers, scooting in beside her and rolled her toward him, hearing her breath catch at the gesture.
But he managed to wrap his arms around her, holding her to him to assure her that even in her dreams, she was safe...
But she instinctively snuggled her face into his neck...
Not before he saw a smile spread across her face.
“You should be asleep...” he said then, feeling her still gently breathe against him.
She didn’t respond, just kept her position, relaxed into him.
“I saw you smile, Winter,” he said, smirking. “I know you’re awake.”
“Aww...” she said then, voice muffled in his skin, “I usually can control my smile....”
“I think you’re mistaking you for me, Winter.”
She looked to him then, brows raised. “No, I’m not. You smile at me all day, every day... And it’s almost always the same smug smirk....”
“Well at least I can control it.”
“No,” she said, “your ego’s so big it makes its way into your expression. You can hardly control it.”
“I know you don’t mind,” he said, smiling. “You love my ego. It’s attracting.”
She scoffed. “Hardly.”
“Liar,” he said, chuckling. “You should stop lying, Winter. I can read your thoughts.”
“I feel like sometimes you read what you want me to think.”
“Kind of like you hear what you want to hear?” he countered, smiling.
“Yep,” she said despite the insult.
“Wow,” he said, “so you agreed.”
“At least I admit it. You don’t want to because it’ll hurt your ego.”
“What’s with all this talk about my ego?” he questioned. “You sure do mention it a lot. Are you sure you’re not obsessing over it?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he said then, seeing a slight smile curve her lips.
She didn’t answer.
“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Winter Evans? I think you did.”
“Noooo,” she said, her voice light in humor.
“Yes, you did,” he said. “I saw it, and since you didn’t admit it, you must be punished.”
She gave him a concerned look. “Wha—”
But he rolled on top of her at light speed, moving his fingers along her sides.
She started laughing as his warm fingers lightly skimmed along her belly, tickling her.
She kicked out her legs as an attempt to get him to stop, but he had already straddled her hips, eliminating the use of her legs.
“Cameron!” she gasped. “Cameron!”
But he moved his fingers under her armpits, making her laugh so hard a single tear spilled down her cheek, and she writhed under him like a fish on land.
He stopped then, watching her gasp for air with a tilted smile curving his lips.
She looked up to him then, narrowing her eyes despite her still panting. “That was mean.”
“I know,” he said. “Rolling your eyes was mean, too.”
She shook her head in defeat, turning her face to the right where the alarm clock rested, flashing the time 4:30 am while the room still enclosed in darkness.
“I just realized the lights aren’t on,” she said.
“Yep.”
“Huh....”
They were silent for a moment, her just staring at the alarm clock while Cameron rested above her, watching her curiously.
He then saw a mischievous smile spread across her expression, and before he could question what she was planning, she threw herself at him, taking him off guard as he landed on his side of the bed, and she was on top of him, straddling his legs while balancing her hands on his chest.
“Wow,” he said, smirking, “you’re strong now, huh?”
She was still smiling.
“But not strong enough,” he added, the same smile spreading across his face.
He hurled a pillow at her, and she threw her arms above her face to shield it, blocking the cushion and it landed on the floor on his side.
But he didn’t waist a second. While she was distracted, he caught her arms and tugged her so she collapsed on top of him, a small gasp escaping her mouth.
Her legs flew up at the sudden movement, and she found herself laying on top of him while he wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face in her hair.
“That was sudden,” she said then, remaining in the position.
Mainly because it was comfy.
“I win,” he said into her hair.
“Yes, you do,” she admitted, giving in.
“Do I get a prize?” he said.
“Depends on what you want.”
“A kiss,” he said then, sounding a little desperate.
She snickered in his chest, pushing her hands onto the bed so she could lean over him. “Alright.”
And she bent down, pressing her lips to his so gently he could’ve sworn her touch was as light as butterflies.
She tasted so sweet... the strawberry lip-gloss she put on the day before still lingering on her lips... only adding to the fruity scent of her perfume...
He wanted this to last forever...
The light touches... the sweetness...
But he got desperate, twining his fingers in her hair and pulled her closer, and after a surprised yelp, she let him.
He lightly caught her bottom lip between his teeth, dragging it out when she leaned down further, a small moan coming out of her mouth when she leaned on her elbows on each side of his head.
Before the moment went further, Cameron pulled away and flipped her to her side of the bed, rolling on top of her and moved the kisses down her neck.
She giggled at the feeling, the sound making his heart warm.
“Hey, Cameron?” she said then.
“Hmm?” he murmured into her neck.
“Are vampires undead…?” she wondered softly. “Like… is your heart still beating?”
“No,” he answered, “my heart doesn’t beat, and yes, we’re undead.”
“If your heart’s stopped…” she said softly, watching his face as he pushed himself up, leaning on his elbows, “then why is your body so warm?”
He chuckled. “Vampires need blood to survive because our heart’s stopped. We’re technically undead, so our body doesn’t work like humans.”
“How does it work?” she asked then.
“I don’t know!” he said. “Does it look like I took Vampire Biology 101 in college?”
She giggled then, the sound making him smile.
If it was on repeat his entire life, he would never get tired of it…
He laid next to her, opening his arms to offer an embrace.
And she took it, scooting toward him and snuggling herself into his hold.
He smiled then, brushing his fingers through her hair while she relaxed into him.
“You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “a couple days ago, you would’ve slapped me and told me not to touch you.”
“I know…” she responded.
“And now, look at you, cuddling with me willingly. It’s only been about a week since we met.”
“I know…” she said again.
“What’s changed since then?” he wondered curiously.
“I don’t know…” she said this time.
“You sound kind of tired,” he noted aloud, brushing her hair away from her lashes. “Do you want to sleep?”
She nodded lazily.
“Go ahead,” he whispered. “Close your eyes.”
“It feels weird…” she said then.
“Why?”
“Because you’re talking to me….”
“Me talking to you is weird?”
“No…” she shook her head, lashes fluttering when he moved his hand to rub her back, “it feels weird to sleep… when you’re talking to me….”
“Is Winter Evans worried about hurting my feelings?” he questioned, feigning astonishment.
She was silent before saying, “No….”
“You hesitated,” he noticed.
“I’m tired….”
“Clearly,” he said, raising his brows. “I’ll stop talking, and you can go to sleep, alright?”
She nodded.
He continued to rub her back, feeling her melt slightly as her lashes fluttered.
“Here,” he said, rolling her over. “This might be easier.”
He pressed his chest to her back, letting her tuck her head under his chin while he fit his knees into the crook of hers.
After wrapping his arms around her, he said, “Better?”
A nod.
In response, he moved his free hand to the hem of her tank-top, feeling her tense when he lifted the fabric slightly.
But she caught his hand, demanding in a half-tired, half-alarmed voice, “What are you doing?”
“I just wanted to rub your tummy,” he said softly, breath heating her forehead. “Can I?”
She was silent for a moment. “Yes… that’s fine….”
Something inside him warmed at this sign of trust.
“Just,” she added, “ask next time… That… that spot is kind of….”
“I know,” he said before she could finish, brushing his thumb along the scar through the fabric of her tank-top.
When they were both silent, he lifted the hem again, giving her some control by letting her hold onto his wrist.
He felt her tense when his fingers brushed her navel, watching her stance to see if he was hurting her or if she didn’t like this…
But after a moment of him stroking the skin in little circles, she relaxed into him… like quicksand…
Her grip loosened on his wrist, and he continued to watch her stance as her eyes closed and she somehow relaxed into him further…
But not even a minute later, her thoughts calmed, and he knew she was asleep.
So… he guessed one of the ways that she likes to cuddle… was when he rubbed her arms and back… and when he stroked her stomach…
In other words, she loved comfort…
He liked her personality… all versions of them…
How she was angry and spiteful, how she would yell and scream at him or play and mess with him, how she would break down and cry… but most of all… he loved these moments with her…
When she laid asleep in his arms… relaxed and sleeping blissfully…
Vulnerable… just for him…
Did she like this, too? Did she like it when he was vulnerable?
Maybe she did… maybe she didn’t…
But he tossed the thought, desperate to feel this moment… He needed to feel her skin against his, the warmth from her…
Holding her was addicting…
She was like cocaine to him… and he couldn’t get enough…
Because even though it was four in the morning… and she wouldn’t wake until ten or eleven…
Even when he had a whole six hours to hold her, it wouldn’t be enough…
Because he was addicted…
From now, until eternity…
ns 15.158.61.21da2
