Synching With the Devil's Son

Chapter 23

Lucien's P.O.V.

I can feel the sunlight starting to bake the east side of our tent, but I don't want to get up yet. Bella is still sleeping, and I'd like to let her rest for as long as possible, even though I can tell everyone else is waking up around us. In a few minutes, she shifts next to me, her breathing looses the deep resonance of sleep as she is finds consciousness. I can feel her eyes traveling over my body since she thinks I'm still sleeping. Now I'm sorry I put a shirt on last night because I want Bella to ogle me, to desire me like I do her. I open my eyes slowly to find she is looking at my hand, tracing the lines of the veins in my arm with her eyes. I have to choke back a laugh when she realizes I've caught her checking me out, and my heart warms when she plants her face in her pillow and groans. She's adorable and I want to alleviate her discomfort, so I ask if she's slept well, instead of some snarky comment I would usually say like, 'do you like what you see?' She looks up at me with one eye, the rest of her face still sown into her pillow, and nods. I smile down at her. I used to revel in her discomfort, loved pointing out all her foibles and flaws like they were words on a page and I was reading aloud. Now all I want to do is protect her and make her feel safe. What is happening to me? My finger, of it's own volition, traces the soft skin of her cheek, and I can almost feel her blood pumping beneath its surface. She is electrifying and I cannot get enough of her. When she grabs my finger and kisses it, murmuring a soft thank you for last night, all I can think about is placing my mouth over her exquisite lips, so I ask her if she'll let me. She responds by reaching for me and bringing our lips together. Holy Hell I am on fire. I know better than to rush this, to give in to the heat and euphoria of having her here, under me, in a tent that only gives the illusion of privacy. My lecherous thoughts are interrupted by Trish calling out to Bella.

I remove my lips from hers and smile at her, the realization we were about to be caught exploring each other seems rather funny to the both of us, and we start laughing. It feels good to laugh, it's been a long time. A relieved Trish walks away, and I push Bella's hair away from her face. The wound near her eyebrow is just a faint red line, so I kiss her there to remove any possibility of a scar marring her beautiful face. I take her arm, looking at the area another large gash was, and gently examine the borders of it - it's closed up cleanly. I sit up and check out the bigger wounds on her legs, and after inspection, I am satisfied she's healing perfectly and won't have any lasting marks on her beautiful skin. I have some of my Uncle Raphael's healing powers, not on his level of course, but enough that I can cauterize wounds and heal skin. It's never been of much use to me before last night, but I'm pleasantly surprised at how quickly Bella is healing. I look at her face to find she is staring at me in awe and wonder.

"I imagine you would like to get out of those clothes and get some soap on your skin," I say softly, grabbing the hem of her shirt to show her it's stained with blood. "Would you like me to heat up some water so you can bathe?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Lucien?" she asks incredulously.

With that one statement, she tells me what an asshole I've been to her since the day I came to Pigeon Forge. I was pissed at my father for using his powers of persuasion to get me into her school, despite me being over four hundred years old and in no need of a high school education. He convinced the administration I was a transfer student from Bangor, Maine, with all the appropriate paperwork to back up his claim. There is no paperwork, no record of me ever having stepped foot in Maine, he just wanted to thrust humanity down my throat and make me swallow. Unfortunately for Bella, she was the first person I came across at school. I remember seeing her crossing the threshold of the principals office, bearing some kind of paperwork and handing it to a secretary. I blatantly ignored the feeling of attraction that zinged up my spine, too angry at my father to be anything but an asshole to her. Now I regret not listening to my subconscious, flashing like a beacon in the darkness, and imploring me to pay attention when all I could think of was how to defy my father.

I grimace. "I know I've been a pain in your ass since coming to Tennessee, and I apologize for that. I was pretty pissed at my Dad for enrolling me in Pigeon Forge High School, and you had the misfortune of being the first person to cross my path."

She looks at me closely and nods her head. I almost don't hear her when she whispers, "It's okay, I have pretty shitty luck in everything so I'm used to it."

I look at her, wondering what she means by that. "Well, I want to change the impression you have of me, show you I am not the jackass you think I am," I tell her sincerely. "Come on," I say, holding out my hand, "let us go get you cleaned up."