Safety is Relative

Chapter Fifteen- Compelling Lies

My heart feels like an express train, hammering so hard against my chest that it’s only a matter of time before it breaks through. There’s also a barrier somewhere, stopping any air from reaching my lungs. I feel like I’m drowning.

‘No, he’s not dead,’ says Nate, moving from Nisha over to where Jasper is slumped on the table, his neck slick with blood.

He pulls off his jacket and gently wipes most of the blood away, revealing the two bite marks. Jasper moans slightly, his eyelids flickering.

‘Jasper…’I gasp, feeling tears of relief spring to my eyes.

But I can’t move towards him. My legs feel like they are disconnected to my body, like I am afloat in the air, and I can’t move at all.

Nate looks beyond stressed, running a hand through his hair. He has his jacket pressed to Jasper’s neck, hopefully reducing the flow of blood.

Nisha is just stood still, like me, great big tears rolling down her face, mixing with the blood on her lips and chin. She looks like a monster, a horrific mess. I can’t bear to look at her. Every time I see her I feel a huge wave of anger and want to fly at her, screaming, and cause her some physical pain. Because she’s disgusting. I hate her. Not only is she a vampire, but she also nearly killed her own boyfriend. That’s just plain disturbing.

I don’t feel safe.

‘Nisha, I think you should go upstairs and wash your face,’ says Nate calmly.

Nisha trembles.

‘Nisha, go!’

Nisha blurs, and disappears, sending a gust of wind into my face. I flinch against the counter, feeling sick.

‘Rue, I need to you to help me, okay?’

‘I’m not helping you,’ I choke out.

His shoulders tense, and he looks up. His face is impassive, but his eyes are dark. He looks like someone who’s very close to crying.

But vampires can’t cry.

Another thought hits me: How was Nisha crying?

‘Rue, I’m trying to help your friend. Get me a damn knife!’ His voice cracks at the end.

Numbly, I make my way over to the drawer he is pointing at, and pick out a knife.

Nate shakes his head. ‘No, it needs to be sharper.’

I take one of the kitchen knives, my hand shaking so badly that I nearly drop it on my foot. Nate’s hand takes it from me, his grip steady, his cold skin making my flinch away. Nate notices my response, but doesn’t say anything, instead, he just turns back to Jasper.

I watch as he takes the jacket away, now soiled with dark red blood, and with one quick, decisive flourish, inserts the tip of the knife into one of the bite marks and rips downwards.

I cry out, too shocked for any words.

I run forwards, trying to wrestle the knife out of his hand, but Nate’s too quick. He slides it across the table, grabs my flailing arms, and presses the jacket back against the now weeping slash of Jasper’s neck. Jasper is conscious again, and is crying, pale as death.

I find myself holding the jacket, Nate standing behind me.

‘Okay, keep it there. You’re keeping him alive.’

‘Why?’ I sob, tears running down my face from all the emotions that have built up inside of me. Seeing Jasper cry has only broken the dam I had made against them.