Winter Rose

XXX. Love Conquers All

Winter's pitiful screams filled my ears, causing me to squirm with disgust. She struggled against Sheldon, but he commanded power over her. He whipped her around, the knife pressed tightly to her neck, causing a trickle of blood to zigzag down it. Pride spread over me as I watched myself. Ruthless—like a trained assassin. She'd learn her lesson. They'd all learn their lessons tonight.

Shhhh, he whispered in her ear. A delightful grin spread across his face.

Turning from him, I readied myself at the bottom of the stairs in a predatory crouch, licking my chops in anticipation. I was relishing the moment I could sink my fangs deep into the neck of that jackass detective—teach him a final lesson.

Much to my disappointment, no one emerged. The footsteps continued in earnest upstairs, accompanied by confused shouts and hollow banging, but the stairs remained empty. Across the room, the obsessive pounding on the side door suddenly fell silent and I scanned the room, instantly suspicious.

A swift movement in the window caught my eye.

With a calculated snarl, I stalked towards it, all the while keeping a watchful eye on the stairs—just in case. Once again, I prepared to pounce. A heavy stick of some sort came barreling towards the window. I took a step back. Persistent little bastards.

The stick hit the window with force. I braced myself for the shatter of glass, drooling over the thought of ripping Lance to pieces, when he tried to come through. A second passed. Nothing. I blinked, questioning what I'd just seen. The stick swung again—with more force than before—still nothing. Where there should have been the ear ringing clash of a shattered window pane, there was silence—like a silent movie.

Outside of the window, Lance and Mr. Rose's voices rose, yelling Winter's name in between frantic curses. Other objects hit the window, and other windows, with the same effect as the first. The front door handle twisted and turned, but it didn't budge.

Sheldon's low laugh called to me from across the room. I turned and our eyes met, a flow of dark energy surging back and forth between the two of us, threatening to lift me off of my feet with the strength of it. "Looks like we have time after all."

My eyes met Winter's for a brief second, causing me to recoil. Something inside me shuddered. I'd expected to see hate and loathing, maybe even pain and disappointment. But, there was something worse. Hope.

Terrified of the spark her eyes were igniting, I quickly turned my gaze back to the door, then to the stairway. She was playing me—a master at manipulation—just like my mother. Winter didn't want me. Just like my mother didn't want me. She'd fooled me every time, two days before the social worker showed up, she'd been freaking supermom. I'd eaten it up, I was so desperate to believe it. They were all the same in the end.

With new found hatred, I turned my eyes back on Winter. She quivered, a tear rolling down her cheek. Her eyes fell to the ground. That's right, conniving whore. If the tables were turned, she'd kill me instantly and throw herself at Terrence. I meant nothing to her and she meant nothing to me.

"Let's show this bitch what happens when they don't obey." Sheldon grabbed a hold of Winter's hair and dragged her back over towards the kitchen.

She screamed, flipping herself around, her knees squealing across the tile, hands to her head. In the middle of the cold kitchen floor, Sheldon forced her onto her back and straddled her, the flashlight shining bright in her face. Her eyes glowed with fear—staring up at the ceiling...

A memory tugged hard in the back of my mind. This whole thing seemed so familiar.

Wake up.