Where A Witch Goeth

Chapter Fourteen: Best Laid Plans

A vampire bowed over my hands, pressing my warm fingers between his cool forehead and his even cooler fingers, was an affirming creature. 

He decided me. 

At that moment, there was not a scrap of conflict left in me.

I reached out softly with my fingers--the ones that worked--and I grasped Evander around his wrists. 

"Thank you. My father was dying for a long time, and I was prepared. I'm at peace with his place. But  I think I can not be at peace if I leave here now...I think Abraham was right in sending me here. I think I'm supposed to be here to... to save you."

The room was silent, except for the peaceful coo of a morning dove, somewhere in the woods. Evander's chair creaked as he leaned forward further—and we were already too close. He lowered those little round glasses, and looked... he looked like a steampunk, vampire, gentleman god as he murmured beyond my hearing, murmured with a vibration near my heart.

"My salvation is long behind me, lass. But I'd quite happily settle for your company if you want to bide a while."

His face was inches from mine. He was still as death. No onyx glitter, no vampire magic in his eyes. Just a man. A cursed man with no breath, only blood, on his lips. I closed my eyes, trying to protect myself.

Not a man. A dead man who drank human blood. Who pierced my vein in a rage just last night. What would he do if he lost himself in a passion?

"You... ah..." I swallowed. "You misunderstand."

"Do I, now?"

There was lust in his voice. He might be dead, but he was still very much a man who craved. Blood and sex. Sex and blood. I released him, shoved myself back in my chair, and began to rock. Vigorously.

He chuckled as he swooped up the glass of blood and settled back in his own chair.

"If I misunderstand, will you explain what you meant, then?"

"Yes. I mean. What I meant was... I need to tell you something. I was afraid to, at first. I was so confused about how I got here, and I didn't know if I could trust you. Of course, I still don't know if I can," my voice sharpened slightly as I gestured to my throat. The tincture was burning through me, but I could still feel the scabbed puncture wounds.

He snorted. "If you couldn't trust me, Celie Dunne, you'd be dead and your blood would likely be making me sicker than a dog right at this very moment." He sneered but the expression disappeared into the wine glass.

"Okay, I guess we're back to insulting each other—"

He didn't even take his sip, "And who's fault is that? I was trying to lend you sweet sympathy and you weren't having it—"

"Oh be quiet! I have to tell you something!"

"Fine!" Suddenly the glass and the sunglasses were all gone, and the very intense vampire squinted at me in irritation, and not a little of discomfort from the light. "Tell me, then!"

I stopped rocking. My swollen left pinkie stuck out awkwardly as I gripped the arms of the chair with the rest of my digits. "I am not a seer. I want to say that, first. Don't think you can keep me here...exploit me...in that way. I am not a seer. I've had one vision in my life. Ever."

His irritation dropped to the floor. His eyes widened despite the discomfort I'm sure it caused him.

"Me," he said confidently. "You had a vision of me."

Awww, shit, those onyx eyes. I slapped my palms over my eyesockets. "Not like that. It was a terrible vision, and I don't understand what it all means, but I'm afraid for you, Evander. I'm afraid you're going to... burn."