Eminence (Wattpad Edition)

Note 3 - The Contract

Warren walked without direction, telling himself he just needed air. That she needed space. Maybe if he wandered long enough, some clarity would meet him halfway.

But every step away from the motel door felt like a mistake.

His thoughts spiraled from one thing to another. What was she running from? Can I really do this? What kind of life did she have? I can barely take care of myself. How long had she lived like this? How often she needed to feed, how close she had been to dying when he found her? I can't do this.

The wind picked up, sharp with salt and diesel. It bit at his skin, and made his eyes sting. Somewhere up ahead, a vendor flipped something greasy on a grill. The scent of meat and oil turned his stomach, souring whatever was left of his appetite. He sat on a bench near the boardwalk and stared out toward the sea, trying to breathe through the rising nausea, his mouth filling with saliva as if he would puke at any moment.

He hated this.

She's not your problem. She's not even human.

That's what logic said. That's what survival instincts screamed.

But then again... maybe she was his problem now. Maybe a part of her is human. Or maybe he was just compartmentalizing to keep himself sane.

That contract wasn't just words, it was blood. Her blood. His blood. Shared between the two.

Was that even real?

He rubbed his hands over his face, dragging his fingers down until they clenched beneath his chin.

What if he ran? What if he never went back?

Would she come after him?

Would she hurt him?

No... he didn't believe that.

The image came unbidden. Her face from earlier, wet from tears, afraid. The salt from her kiss still resided on his lips. That moment hadn't felt like manipulation at all.

She's not my problem, he repeated again, but the words didn't settle like they used to.

He stood, hands buried deep in his coat pockets, and started walking.

***

Emanon stared at the bedside clock.
Time always moved slowly here, but now it feels torturous.

Normally, a contract would bring peace of mind. But now that he knew her name, he could end it anytime. With just a few words, a command, a poem even. He could call out her name and wish for it to all end.

"That's how contracts are supposed to work... haha." she muttered bitterly. It wasn't fair. It was fair. She didn't know anymore.

She paced. The idea of starving again, of feeling her mind unravel terrified her. She wouldn't blame Warren if he left. Wouldn't blame him if he hated her. But she wanted him to stay. More than anything.

Shame settled like a stone in her chest.

She slid down the wall and curled up on the floor.
Please... please come back...

***

Warren stepped out of the deli with a paper bag in hand. He glanced at his watch.

"Shit..."

The line had taken forever, and the place was short-staffed. Half an hour, maybe more, had slipped by. He picked up his pace, guilt starting to gnaw at him. Was she panicking? Crying?

"Please don't be angry..." he muttered, opening the motel door.

But Emanon wasn't on the bed.

The bathroom door stood ajar. No light on.