Tainted Fantasy

Chapter Eight: vampires can't bleed

It had been a few days since I found out Damien and Vincent's secret. After the initial shock, everything went back to normal. There were no more secrets between us...Well, except for mine. But I wasn't ready to tell them yet. I had heard Vincent talking about the missing Princess from the palace. He said something about how she had ran away, so now the King and Queen had to wait to gain more land. Obviously neither Vincent or Damien knew what the Princess looked like or where she had gone. They had never seen her before, which confirmed my thoughts of them not knowing who I was. I don't think they would really care if I told them, but just to be safe I'm keeping that to myself.

My mind wandered as I boredly flipped through the channels on the TV in the living room. Damien came around the corner with a bottle of his Rum. He plopped down on the other side of the couch. I glanced at him, then did a double take. I stared at him for so long I actually forgot I was staring. He cleared his throat. I blinked and jumped when I realized our eyes were locked.

“What the hell are you staring at, stupid girl?” It made sense to me now why he called me girl. And why he always said; a girl like you. He meant that I was human and he didn't like it, at least that's what I was now assuming.

I meant to make a rude come back but the gash across the left side of his forehead, going all the way down to his temple, looked too bad for me to even say anything back. I lowered my gaze as I stood.

“Maybe you should have someone look at that.” I muttered, walking past him, going to the kitchen.

I couldn't help but wonder what happened? Did he get into some sort of fight? Wasn't he a vampire, or at least half vampire? So doesn't that mean that gash shouldn't even exist on his forehead? It was really deep. I was so lost in my thoughts I hadn't noticed him leaning against the counter and staring at me. I blinked at him once again. When did he follow me? I'm pretty sure he just came out of nowhere. Weirdo.

“You mean the scratch on my forehead?” He cocked his eyebrow.

Scratch? He did not just call that gash a scratch! He couldn't be serious. That thing was no scratch.

“Well, I meant your whole face...” I mumbled.

“Ha ha. You're a funny one.” He laughed sarcastically.

I tilted my head as I continued to eye the gash.

“Awwe, you're worried about me?” He cooed, suddenly hovering over me. I went to take a step back but his hand caught my waist and kept me in place. Why was he doing this?!

“No!” I snapped at him. His hand trailed up the middle of my back. I held in a shiver of pleasure. His touch was killing me. “It just—It looks---It's not a scratch...” I stammered as his fingers brushed against the bare skin between my shoulders. Why did I decide to wear this shirt today?

His hand stopped abruptly. I felt his hand against my skin tense. And then I was slammed against the fridge. He really needed to stop slamming me into inanimate objects! The sound of glass shattering caught my attention. When was this ever going to end?! Everything from everyone has broken into this damn house! This place was like a death trap!

Whatever had come threw the window landed right where we had just been standing. I was about to scream, a little bit of a delayed reaction, but Damien stopped me by covering my mouth with his hand.

“Still protecting the brat, are we?” I looked seeing Venom as he hissed out the rhetorical question.

“This brat doesn't belong to you, Venom.” Damien hissed at him when he turned around. He pushed me closer to the fridge as he stood between me and the vampire.