First Bitten (The Alexandra Jones Series #1)

You would think with the loss I have endured in my life that it would have prepared me for when it happens again. It hasn’t.

Losing Sol hasn’t even broken through my consciousness yet, and still it’s complete and utter agony.

And to have to watch on the sidelines as Nathan suffers in the worst kind of way is crippling me. He won’t let me help me. He blames me for Sol’s death. He’s hasn’t said this exactly, he hasn’t said anything to me at all. He’s cut me off. It seems to him I no longer exist.

I wish he’d shout at me, blame me. He’d be right to. Sol is dead because of me, another casualty of my existence, like Carrie.

These words are fast becoming an echo of mine. An echo I have to silence.

I wish I could rewind to that moment. I’d tell Sol what he means to me. I may not have felt exactly for him what he felt for me, but it was somewhere close. He was my friend. I loved him. And now he’s gone.

If I could change everything, I would. I’d go back to the beginning. I’d trade places with Sol and Carrie, whatever it would take to bring them both back here as they’re meant to be.

Scarlett draws in a sharp breath, catching my attention. I glance up to see Craig pushing a sewing needle into her skin. He’s stitching up her wound. There’s no anaesthetic except for the large glass of whiskey he gave her which she downed the moment her fingers curled around it.

We’re in the living room at home, Scarlett, Craig and I. Scarlett and Craig are sitting on the sofa while he stitches her up. I’m perched on the edge of the chair at the other side of the room, keeping a safe distance from them both, well a safe distance from Scarlett’s blood. The smell is intense. And my hunger, for the moment it seems, isn’t ready to wane.

Craig has suggested I go upstairs, take a break, while he stitches Scarlett up. I declined. I don’t think he trusts me around her. So far, I’d say she is the only thing he can trust me with. I was locked in a room with Scarlett and I didn’t touch her or her blood once.

I need to be here. I need to remind myself human blood is off limits, no matter what. If I hide from it, it will only weaken me to future exposure. The more exposure the better until I have dulled this ache into indifference.

And, really, I don’t want to be any further away from Nathan or Sol than necessary. I’m not ready. Not yet.

Nathan’s in the kitchen with Jack and Cal. Sol’s body is resting on the table.

Nothing feels real anymore. My head hurts. It’s filled with too much noise. Thoughts are whizzing past but I have no wish to pin any of them down. And I can feel Nathan’s grief and anger emanating through the wall that separates us as clear as if we were in the same room.

Craig’s finished with Scarlett. I see her arm is now covered up with a bandage and she sits quietly staring off into space. I feel a powerful wave of sympathy for her. She’s just a young girl thrown into a situation she didn’t ask to be in. We’re not so dissimilar in that respect.

Craig is tidying up around her. None of us is speaking. There’s nothing to be said. But the silence is blistering, almost as blistering as the heat that poured from the mansion when Craig threw the match that lit it up like an inferno. I only wish I’d been there to see it burn down to the ground.

I look at Scarlett again. She’s so weak and vulnerable. I feel like she’s my responsibility now but, honestly, I can’t even look after myself let alone a severely distressed, potentially damaged-for-life teenage girl. I don’t think I can take on that responsibility.

I hear movement in the kitchen. My whole body tenses. I grip the chair edge with my hands. The door opens and Nathan comes into the living room. I catch sight of Jack sitting beside Sol’s body. The sight will haunt me forever.

Nathan quietly pushes the door to a close. His hair hanging across his face, he wraps his arms around his chest. The longing I feel for him is unbearable.

“We’re going to bury Sol here,” he says quietly, not addressing any of us in particular, “out back in the forest. He loved it there so … ” His voice breaks. He rubs both hands over his face roughly, pressing his palms into his eyes and blows out a breath.

Without thinking, I get to my feet, wanting to go to him, but stop, holding myself in check.

Nathan drops his hands by his sides and clears his throat, almost self-consciously, like he’s embarrassed to have shown emotion in front of us. “I’m going to dig a grave now.” His voice is suddenly business-like, hard, and he starts backing away, heading for the door.

I feel a rush of panic. I don’t want him to go. I want to fix this. Fix him.

“No, mate, you don’t want to be doing that,” Craig says, stopping Nathan in his tracks. “I’ll do it.”

Nathan looks at him, gratefully. “You’re sure?”

Craig nods.

“There’s a big oak tree just up the front of the forest. It’s got an open clearing right behind it. That’s where Dad wants it.”

“I know where you mean. I got it, mate.” Craig pats him on the shoulder as he passes by, leaving the room.

I expect Nathan to follow but he stays put, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

My eyes search over Nathan with utter desperation. You could hear a pin drop in here. The air is thick with unsaid words, mainly mine. I’m afraid to speak and say the wrong thing. If I do, I could push him even further away than he already is.

Scarlett clears her throat. I’ve forgotten she is here. “Sorry, but I erm … I need to use the bathroom.”

“Upstairs, second on your left,” Nathan says flatly.

Scarlett stops by the door. “I’m real sorry about your brother.”

He looks up at her, and nods.

Scarlett has just said the one thing I’ve been terrified of saying for the last two hours. I’m sorry. Just as easy as that. But then she stands to lose nothing.

And now it’s just me and Nathan, and a thick wall of silence.

My whole body is shaking with nerves. “Nathan … ” my voice breaks. He brings cold eyes to meet mine. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold off the chill. “I’m so sorry,” A tear trickles down my face. I wipe it away with my wrist. “I wish more than anything it was me in there and not…”

“Pack your stuff,” he cuts me off, voice emotionless. “We’re leaving straight after the funeral.” He slams the door so hard it rattles everything in here, including me.

I stay still for a long moment then I hear Erin arrive. Her cries ring painfully in my ears.

With wretchedness crushing my chest, I force myself to move. I go upstairs, into my bedroom for the last time, and begin packing my things.

* * *

It’s dawn and a fog is laid thin over the ground like rising ghosts. I’m stood at the edge of Sol’s open grave with the others. My throat is thick and I’m striving to fight the tears, not feeling I have the right to cry.

Jack clears his rough throat. “Do not stand at my grave and weep.” His voice is as still as a break in the breeze. “I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning’s hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die.”

Unable to hold the tears back anymore, I let them go. Then I sense Nathan’s stare on me. Looking up through my damp eyes, I let them meet with his.

His stare slices into me, through flesh and bone, straight to my heart. I hold myself still as the pain rolls in sharp waves over my skin, covering every inch of me. I see the resentment clear in his eyes and know unequivocally he wishes it was me down there in that grave.

And I can’t say I disagree with him.