HALFBLOOD DANCER

16. BLOODLUST

My heart takes off on a highspeed race, a storm of emotions invading my chest. Of all the things I had imagined, this was not one of them. Not even after he told me, just seconds ago, that such creatures existed. I, somehow, accepted it when he said that my attackers were vampires. It was tolerable, for they were evil and violent. Their skin was cold and ashen.

That knowledge felt innocuous, like a distant arrow passing by. However, to hear that Sandro—the man I love—is a vampire, the idea not only seems preposterous, but it feels like an arrow straight into the heart.

I question my sanity for a moment as I stare at his gorgeous face. He's nothing like those vampires, neither physically nor emotionally. His skin, unlike the skin of my attackers, is warm and tanned. And he's kind and caring, not a killer. I know he would never hurt anyone.

I realize suddenly, as I gape at him, that he has been motionless, downheartedly searching for answers in my eyes. And then I remember the condemning way in which he spoke of those vampires. He clearly despises them. He referred to them as monsters.

Oh no! He thinks of himself as a monster.

My eyes begin to burn as tears threaten to emerge.

He thinks I'm frightened of him. He's waiting for my panic to surge.

I can see it in his face. I need to tell him that my feelings for him are as vibrant as ever, that nothing has changed. I need to put him out of his misery. But the knot growing in my throat prevents me from speaking.

I freeze, as anxiety takes over me. I'm anxious not because of what he is, but because I'm afraid to say the wrong thing, afraid of hurting him. I fail to find the right words to say. I can't even seem to find my voice.

Meanwhile, Sandro's face distorts more by the second. His eyebrows pull together, his anguished expression becoming far too painful for me to watch.

"Do not compare yourself to those monsters!" I blurt out.

Sandro's chest expands as he draws in a deep breath, as if someone had been choking him, and only now allowed him to breathe again. "I am one of them," he breathes out.

"No, you're not! And you know it," I tell him. "Those two are criminals, Sandro. Humans or not, that's who they are. Not you." I shake my head.

"You don't know anything about me," he says, his eyes shimmering with tears.

"I know enough, and I know you're not a monster," I declare, and he drops his eyes to his lap. "Did you think I was going to reject you?" He remains quiet. "You were still expecting me to, weren't you?" I accuse him.

"Which part of me being a bloodsucking predator did you not understand?" He shoots up from the bed and strides away.

"I know you wouldn't hurt anyone."

"See, that's the thing, Luna." He turns around to face me, his eyes tormented. "I would. I have hurt humans before!"

"Is that who you really are?" I jump out of bed and walk toward him. "Do you hurt people?" I confront him, standing right in front of him.

He says nothing. He stares at me in absolute stillness, his eyes haunted. He doesn't even flinch as I take a step closer. I'm close enough now to hear his breathing.

"Answer me," I demand. "Do you still hurt people? Do you...kill them?"

"No," he mutters.

Relieved, I throw myself at him, folding my arms around his neck. He welcomes my tempestuous embrace, pinning me to his chest with steady arms.