For Love of a Vampire

Chapter 27

"I believe we have something to discuss," Duncan growled.

He'd waited long enough for Gwendoline to leave the shack before speaking, but not long enough for me to get safely out of the copper tub. I felt incredibly vulnerable all folded up like a rag doll. The once luxurious bath now felt like a sand pit that would swallow me up at any moment. I longed to get out, but I had no idea how to unfold myself to do so.

"Can you help me, please?" I asked timidly as I extended my hand. "I'm wedged in here like a sardine and my legs are going numb."

There was no mistaking Duncan's anger. The question that plagued me was whether his anger was due to my infidelity or my murdering his unborn child; or both? My nerves were frazzled and my body shook uncontrollably by the time he'd lifted me from the copper confines and planted me unceremoniously onto the hemp bathmat. After tossing a linen sheeting at me for me to dry myself with, he marched to the nearby stool and sat down with a huff.

I eyed him warily while I dried my slender body and then wrapped the sheeting around it. I wanted to move back to the cot and lay down. I felt weak, shaky, and very, very tired, but I didn't dare. I'd only seen this scowl on Duncan once before and that was the night he battled the vampires who'd interrupted the gang of punks who were mugging me.

"Well?" he said impatiently while he crossed his arms over his chest. "I should like to hear why you have been hiding in this shack for the last fifteen days."

"Fifteen days?" I gasped. I'd had no idea so much time had lapsed.

"Do not change the subject," he growled.

"Lady Helen didn't tell you?" I whined.

"I wish to hear it from your lips," he growled. "All of it."

Oh boy. This wasn't good. I looked around for an escape route, but the only way out of the shack would mean I'd have to get past my angry vampire first. I knew that wasn't going to happen. Panic consumed me for several long and tortuous moments before I finally resigned myself to the inevitable and took a deep breath.

"I do not know where to begin," I began.

"Use modern English please. I cannot seem to get used to you speaking otherwise and I want to focus on the story, not your speech pattern," he commanded.

"Lady Helen said I need to be careful about my spee..." I caught myself before continuing. I had no idea what he did and didn't know.

"I ask you speak normally," he took a deep breath, "please."

"Okay. Where do I begin?" I asked again.

"At the beginning," he blurted, his impatience clearly showing.

"What beginning?" I demanded.

I knew I was stalling for time and I knew he knew it too, but I just couldn't help it. I wanted to be anywhere but there with him and having any conversation other than the one I was being forced to have.

"Jane!" he shouted as he stood up.

I visibly flinched. My fear must have been apparent because he calmed down immediately. Our eyes locked and I began to cry. All of the pent up nervous tension, all of my self-hate, every emotion, opinion, and thought I'd had about myself during this horrendous ordeal were contained in those tears.

When he realized I was in an actual fit, Duncan's whole demeanor softened and he moved close to embrace me. I jumped back before he could wrap his arms around me. I didn't deserve comforting; especially by him. Confused, and a little hurt, he stood with a baffled look and his arms at his side.