What Lies Beneath

I think I went into shock, watching it happen. One hit, and the loudest crack I'd ever heard. The man would have screamed if Landon hadn't been holding his broken mouth closed. Instead, it was muffled whimpers and tears of pain. Landon slammed the man's head into his desk and bent down. "Now, I realize you can no longer talk with a broken jaw. But your hands still work for now. So..." Landon plucked a pen from a cup and set it down by a notepad. "...what do you

say?"

The man didn't move.

Landon nodded. "Okay. So I'm going to take this..." He grabbed a letter opener. "...and I'm going to start putting holes in your body until you tell me what I want to know." He started, not giving any other warning. He sent the letter opener into the man's shoulder. He made another muffled sound.

Ten minutes. I watched this go on for ten whole minutes before I couldn't take it anymore. He didn't want me. Fine. I didn't want him either. I didn't want this. I shouldn't want this. He would only be poison to me. Make me into something I don't want to be. Maybe if I tried really hard, I could stop this mess in my head.

The man was bleeding out fast. He wasn't able to do much more than breathe. I'd admit, it wasn't completely horrid, watching this man who'd hurt me get some of what was coming to him. He had my brother taken to a place I knew not where. Maybe he deserved all of this.

He reached out, and his bloody hand closed over the pen. He slowly dragged it along the pad of paper, leaving blood and ink behind. I couldn't read what he wrote, but Landon was skimming it as he held the back of the man's neck. "Now, was that so hard?" He smiled.

The man looked up at him, still unable to speak. And Landon broke his neck.

He sank to the floor with a thud that would have been heard on the floor below us. God only knew what they'd think that was. Maybe they'd smell trouble and send people for us.

"We should go," Landon said. He looked down at himself. He'd somehow managed to not get any blood on him. I would have been impressed if I hadn't been trying to not throw up.

I forced myself out of my seat, and Landon tore free the piece of paper he needed. "Hurry," he said, trying to lead me out.

We exited the room, and there were people all around us. They were going about their business, making copies and getting coffee. They didn't seem to notice that a man had just been murdered.

Landon whispered in my ear. "Stay calm and just walk out. If they think something is wrong, we won't make it out alive."

I nodded. Just act natural. Don't let on that there's a dead man in the room behind us...

There was supposed to be a meeting happening soon. I couldn't see a clock, but I knew he would be missed any moment now. Someone would come for him. Cameras would be checked, calls would be made, and we would be hunted. Landon was leaving in two days, and I would be alone in this.

We somehow made it to the bottom of the building. No one was following us. We got away scot-free...

I was in shock when we got into the van. Landon was walking around, putting the paper in his pockets. Everything was fine.

Right up until the second it wasn't.

Something hit Landon hard enough to make him go down. My heart leaped, and I saw five more men coming to help the first one. I got out of the van without thinking. My knife was in my hands, and the blade was out. I sank the blade into the back of the man who'd hit Landon. And in that moment, I didn't care. He'd hurt Landon, so I killed him.

I was immediately punished for it. I was on the ground, and three men were on me. They kicked at my torso, and the air went out of me. I couldn't do anything but wheeze and try to stay awake. Blood spewed out of my mouth, and I coughed up even more. One man got a kick into my back, and I couldn't breathe anymore. I still wasn't fully healed, and now I wouldn't ever get the chance.

Landon was on his feet, and he was being attacked by the remaining two men, but he was winning. Since I wasn't, two of the men on me left to help the others.

I was done. Down for the count. The remaining man that was on me stopped. He was smiling as he leaned down. "You must think you're so clever. I'm sorry to say you're not. Don't worry. I'll make this quick." His hand closed over my mouth and nose.

Panic made a scream rip through my throat. This was it. I was going to die, and Jaxon would never be free.

The noise around me dissolved as my vision turned dim. I didn't have any more fight in me. A few more seconds...

I heard Landon make a noise. It was like an angry roar. He was hurt. I saw him get hit in the ribs. It wasn't possible for him to come back from that and kill four men. He wasn't that strong.

My eyes closed, and I heard a cracking sound before something heavy fell on me. My mouth was free, but I was in agony when the thing landed. It was quickly ripped off me, and I heard a thud when it was thrown aside.

Fingers were brushing my cheek. "Open your eyes, baby," Landon said, an edge to his voice.

I did as I was told.

He was fuzzy above me. He was covered in blood and cuts. Teeth were coated, hair matted. But he smiled at me. "You're going to be fine."

I didn't believe him.

He lifted me up and made a sound of pain as he did it. I was hardly aware as I was put in the vehicle. All I could smell, taste, was blood. I couldn't see much more than shapes. My chest ached with each gasping breath. A hand gripped mine just before the car started moving.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed when we stopped again. A few minutes, an hour. It was all the same. The van was parked, and the door opened. Not mine. The other.

"I'll be right back," Landon said before the door closed again.

I was wasting away. Why the hell did I always have to get the shit kicked out of me? I've been a thief my whole life, and I've never been beaten this badly.

Blood was getting on the seats, and I was slipping again. I just wanted to sleep. The pain wouldn't allow it.

Then my door opened, and I was picked up again. Landon didn't say anything as he moved me. I was unable to speak. I didn't feel like I was drawing in any air at all, and my chest was almost throbbing in pain.

I was laid on something soft. My head was on a pillow, I thought. I felt the bed shift around a couple seconds later. I was lifted again, and rested against a body. When my eyes opened, I figured it out. My head was against Landon's chest, and I was sitting on his lap.

When I looked up, I saw him bite into his wrist. He didn't even wince as the blood trickled out. His lips were covered in it when he held his wrist to my mouth. "Drink," he ordered me.

He pressed his skin against my mouth and I drank. I thought his blood would be cool because he was cool to the touch, but it was warm. I felt Landon's heart beating fast against my head as I gripped his arm.

The taste wasn't very pleasant, but I felt it working inside of me. It was metallic, and it burned my tongue as my body started piecing itself back together and my mind got clearer. My vision was coming back, and the pain was dulling.

I stopped, and Landon took his wrist back. "In about thirty seconds, you'll be healed. Just try and breathe for me, Mila."

He was right. It only took seconds before the pain disappeared. It was more than healed, I felt strong. Like if we had to do that fight over again, I wouldn't lose.

I was set down again before I knew what was happening. Landon laid me on the opposite side of the bed, my head on another pillow. He separated my legs and settled between them.

He looked so hurt. His breathing was as labored as mine had been a few minutes before. He was still bleeding, and his eyes wouldn't stay open.

When his fangs came out, I tensed under him. "We'll Link," I reminded him. He'd feel me, even when he was long gone. It wouldn't stop until I was dead.

He nodded. "I know."

I relaxed and then fidgeted under him. "Are you sure about this?"

He answered by sinking his teeth into my newly healed skin.

And then everything felt different. He didn't need to apply pressure to send a surge of sensation through my lower half and my chest. I didn't want to hurt him, but my fingers knotted tightly in his hair, holding him to me. He responded by growling, the vibrations setting off feeling in my chest. His hips collided with mine as he gently sucked at my neck.

This wasn't like before. Not at all. Nothing about this felt one-sided. Our blood was mingling in each other's bodies, healing and blending together, changing how we were made up. Who we were.

Landon's tongue slowly went over the bite, leaving pleasant fire on my skin. He was panting when he was done, and I loosened my grip on him. My hand rested on his back instead. He pressed his forehead to the bare skin on my chest as he tried to catch his breath.

Some time later, he looked up at me with an expression I didn't recognize. He laid his cheek over my breast and rested his weight on me. I wasn't sure why he was doing this. He'd all but said he hated me. Then he'd shared his blood. Taken care of me before him. Though that could have been because he hadn't been sure I would survive long enough to feed him. And he'd laid me on him when he'd been as beat up as I. I suppose I could explain that one away too. But this, this one I couldn't figure out.

Landon blinked, and his lashes tickled me. His head turned up, and he looked at me with silver eyes. Then he wasn't sideways anymore. His body was flat against mine. He pressed his lips against the middle of my chest and held them for a moment. Then he pulled my shirt aside, moving his mouth to the swell of my breast. His tongue pressed against me before his lips kissed me.

His hand went into my shirt under the cup of my bra. His fingers were curling around me, the tips digging into the softness.

"What are you doing?" I asked, weary and confused.

He didn't look up at me. "What does it look like?" He did the same thing as before. Tasting me before he kissed me.

I sat up on my elbows, but it did nothing to stop him. "No. You can't just do that. You can't reject me like you did, then decide you wanna play. That's not how this works."

He removed his hand, but he didn't get off me. "I thought this was what you wanted." He seemed more put out than anything.

"No, it's not what I wanted. I wanted the man who was teasing me. Playing with me. Sweet and nice. And I want the man who set every nerve in my body on fire when he asked me to tell him what I wanted him to do to me. Because, I swear to God, I've never felt like that before. I don't want whoever the hell you are. You are not kind, and you are not a good man. There is nothing redeemable or worthwhile about you. I was stupid for ever thinking there was. You're not what I want. I could never want someone like you."

He looked at me for so long before he moved. He sat beside me, back against the wall. His eyes were forward, and his hands were on his lap. "I know what I am. You know what I am. I'm a bastard. Would you like to know why?" I just blinked in surprise. Was he offering up his past to me? "Yes."

He refused to look at me. "I was very alone when Mercy died. In four hundred years, she's been my only companion. I loved her, and then she killed herself, leaving me alone. I've never got a mate, so I can't know if she was justified in her death. I cannot fathom what it feels like to lose what she lost. But what I can say, is that losing Mercy was more pain than I'd ever known. My only family died, and she turned me into this first. This cold... thing. This thing that kills and likes it. That needs to steal from people to survive. I have never reconciled with what I am. I might not ever do that. But with her, I didn't hate it so much. At least I had someone who understood.

"So what could I do with the person I considered my sister dead? I did all I could do. I took a step, and another, and another. And I never stopped. I haven't had a home in three-and-a-half centuries. I haven't had a friend. No one to talk to. That can drive a man madder than I am. The fact that I have any sanity in me is nothing short of astounding.

"Ya see, love, I don't know how to be a person. I know how to be a hunter. I know how to stalk, kill, hide. I do not know how to be anything else. I can't be the man that you described, because all I am is a living corpse. I look human, I sound human, but I am not human, Mila. Don't ever let yourself think that I am. It will be the end of you.

"And if that's not enough for you, maybe you want to know how I pass the time. What I've been doing. Why I was so desperate for that book that I nearly killed an eighteen-year-old girl over it. Why all I am is this hateful thing." He looked at me then. Waiting for me to react with fear or to recoil. Not happening. "Tell me," I said.

He did. "It was about a hundred-and-thirty-or-so years after I was turned. I was wandering still. I'd just come to America and wanted to see what it was all about. It was supposed to be wonderful. So much better than London. I bought into it. It hardly mattered anyway. I've crossed this world a dozen times. It was just more land to see.

"I got here and needed money. I did what you do. I lied. I stole. I stole from the wrong people. And I didn't know they were after me until about a month later. They found me. Took me. They beat the hell out of me for weeks. Kept me in a cage and didn't tell me why any of it was happening. But they were feeding me blood. They knew what I was. They proved that when they left me in the sun. That was when I found out just how long I could survive exposed to sunlight with as much blood as they were giving me. And it was the first time I felt my heart beating since I'd died. It was the most bitter and brilliant thing I'd ever felt. Being alive even when I was so dead.

"After they were done playing, they fed me again. It was enough to heal me, but not enough to make me strong. I was thrown in another cage, and we traveled for days. I was taken to where more people were being kept like I was. I was the only vampire. They thought that would drive the price up. Young-looking and very pretty, according to the woman running the place."

Was he telling me what I thought he was telling me? The knot in my stomach said yes. What else could this be? It answered so much, and each box I checked in my head hurt more and more. How he knew the way they were run. Locations. Protocols and standards. Tricks and tips. He knew because he had been one of them.

"I fetched a lot of money," he went on. "It would be considerable even now. My handlers were pleased. I thought that maybe, if I was clever, I could get away before I was sent out. I wasn't clever enough. The people who bought me had me for two years. I was kept in the basement in a cage. They drained me of my blood, taking enough for themselves to turn. That's most of why they sell vampires. People would spend a lot for immortality, and there aren't many of us. Typically, they take what they need then kill what they bought. And oh, how I prayed for that. Day after day, I waited. I didn't get what I wanted. They gave me enough blood to filter it through my system and turn it into what they wanted. They sold it. Made loads off me. And I just waited to die. Almost managed to pull it off once." He smiled. "A clock fell off the wall. Massive thing. It left a chair under it broken. I tried to get to a leg. They found me before I reached it."

He stared at the ceiling. "One day, I did get out. Damnedest thing too. The woman just got a little too close to the cage. I grabbed her, slammed her head into the bars until she was unconscious. I got the key, and then escaped." His voice was distant and mystified. Like he couldn't believe it. "Dumb luck. I killed her. Bashed her head in and stuck her in the heart. I did the same to her husband. His brother. His sons. His mother. Every one of them.

"I never had a purpose, and then I did. I set out to kill every person that was involved, and anyone in between me and them. That's all I've been doing. Hunting. Killing. Knox is the son of the woman who captured me. He went into the family business some time ago. He helped keep me emaciated. Bastard doesn't even remember my face. It's been two hundred years, and I can't forget his.

"The book. It has his contacts. More names and addresses for the people I need to find. Three more, and I'm done. Everyone will be gone. And I watched you burn it... I could have killed you. I really could have. I'm not proud, but you took something from me that I needed. That, darlin'..." He smiled bitterly. "... is what makes me... this."

It felt like my heart had been ripped out of me. He'd gone through hell, and I'd stolen his peace of mind. Hung it over his head and had tried to force him into helping me. Hadn't just tried. I had. I had forced him. What a wretch I am. I crawled onto his lap, setting my knees on either side of him and putting my arms around his neck. My cheek rested against his shoulder. I held him for I didn't know how long. "This doesn't mean I forgive you, or that I like you, or that I don't hate you. All this means is that I am so sorry for what was done to you."

His heart was still beating, only now it was against my chest. Then he laid his head on my shoulder, his forehead pressing against me. His arms came around me, and he held me like I was holding him.

So much more time passed us by. It was pitch-black outside, and I was exhausted. I needed rest.

I was finally off Landon's lap, and he checked the clock. "You should eat."

"Not hungry." The blood had taken care of that.

"Too bad." He smiled softly. "I'll be back in ten minutes. Stay here." He kissed my forehead and left me alone.

I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The motel was dingy at best, and I didn't feel safe being alone. But he was only supposed to be gone a few minutes. I could handle that. When I went to scratch the side of my head, I felt blood matted into it. Oh, gross. I decided to hop in the shower before Landon got back. Not very classy to hang around covered in blood. After my shower, I changed into fresh clothes and went back to my icky bed. Landon was still gone, and I wished that didn't annoy me.

I sat up when I noticed something. I was on the bed. The only bed in there. I hoped Landon was cool sleeping on the floor.

He came back just at the end of his time limit. He had our bags and two sacks of fast food. He handed me one and set our suitcases on the floor. He put the one drink on the nightstand. "Thanks," I said. "So, one bed..."

He looked at it as if he was just noticing. "Ah, yeah. Sorry about that. They only had this room left." He sat beside me.

"What are we going to do about that?"

He dug into his bag and pulled out a handful of fries. "I don't know." Then he shoved them into his mouth. A few actually got in.

I almost laughed. "Are we supposed to share a bed? A little weird."

I started taking a drink.

"How so? Oh, are you referring to that time you got me hard enough to make you come without anything but the perfect friction in a very special spot on your soft little body?"

I almost choked on the soda. I set it down. "Christ. Do you have to be so lewd?"

He smirked. "It's my way. Anyway, I could understand how that might make things awkward."

I stood from the bed and grabbed my suitcase. "Little bit."

I changed in the bathroom, throwing on my tank top and shorts to sleep in. Better than just his sweater, though half as comfy. I departed for the room again and left the bag in the corner.

When I got back on the bed, I started eating. Landon was examining me. "You'd think you would start wearing a bra around me when you're dressed so scantily." He reached over me, taking the soda. I rolled my eyes. "I'm not going to sleep uncomfortably just so you don't check me out. Get over it."

We finished eating, and I settled into bed. Landon turned out the lights and then he started undressing. He got down to his underwear and hopped in bed with me. I guess we were sharing after all.

He wasn't touching me, but he was just behind me. If I moved at all, I would probably brush him. So I was very careful. I rolled onto my stomach and clutched a pillow. This was going to be a long night. A very, very long night. "Goodnight, Mila," Landon said in the darkness.

I wanted to look over at him, but I knew better. If I wasn't careful, I would fall again. I couldn't do that. I couldn't let him break my heart twice.

"Goodnight," I said, not having consciously given myself permission to do so.

His hand lay on my back. And I didn't ask him to move it.