The Town of Anton

Chapter Thirteen

I woke up. Not to reality, but to a dream. And I knew I was dreaming, because I was in my childhood bedroom. The walls of pink and purple polka dots were staring at me while the dark brown wood beneath my feet held together what was left of me. I didn't remember falling asleep.

I heard voices. The similar voices of those I knew as my parents were calling me. It was time for dinner and all I wanted to do was cry.

I wanted to see them again...hold them again. And with anticipation rising in my chest, I couldn't help but race downstairs.

It was when I entered the kitchen that I couldn't believe it. They were as dead as they were when Bones killed them.

Tears streamed down my face. A lump so huge in my throat caused me to croak. I was devastated, destroyed.

My parents were dead...again. A bullet was placed in both of their hearts and a puddle of blood surrounded them.

I closed my eyes. This was a dream. It was only a dream, I said to myself, tightening my eyelids harder to wake up.

But nothing.

Why wasn't I waking up?

And then I saw Alex. He grabbed my hand and said, "Things will get better."

"How?" I asked him.

"You'll see," he answered before vanishing.

And once he left, so did the room I was in. It started fading into blackness. The whole room faded and everything went dark.

Now I was back in reality. I knew it was reality, because I heard a soft voice. It sounded so close.

"Saige." I opened my eyes slowly to find Deacon sitting next to me, leaning over me and holding my hand in his, smiling.

"What happened?"

"You lost a lot of blood," he answered. "But you're okay now. I'm here."

"My parents aren't." I immediately sat up, wishing I could see them, wishing for them to be alive.

I looked at Deacon and something was off. He wasn't the same. He didn't look or feel like it. His touch...I couldn't embrace it...the cold. It wasn't comforting.

And then I remembered it. Adam had said something. He said that Deacon couldn't be trusted, that I barely knew him. But I think I love him, so why are these thoughts roaming through my head right now? Maybe it was the extreme loss of blood.

I jerked his hand away, moving back until my spine reached the headboard.

"Please don't be scared of me," he pleaded.

But before I could look at him, I noticed marks going up and down my arms and legs, causing me to jump out of bed. "What is this?!"

"Don't be scared, please?"

"Why shouldn't I be scared?!" I held them out for him to see, only to catch a glimpse of guilt in his eyes. "Did you do this?"

"I didn't mean to. It was just that you were dying and I..."

"You fed on me, didn't you?" I rubbed my arms and legs nervously and bit my lip. "Adam was right. I can't trust you."

"Yes, you can." Deacon walked closer to me and stopped as soon as I moved back. He probably sensed my fear. "I'm your protector, and protectors are supposed to protect. You were dying and I needed to save you."

"How was feeding on me supposed to save me?"

"It wasn't," he replied. "At first, I was trying to feed you my blood, but you kept coughing it up. But when I bit you, my blood somehow entered your system and saved you. I didn't think it would since you're a werewitch and all, but the human part of you digested my blood and healed."