Why do I ever hope that things will change?
Why do I ever expect to be loved?
Why do I always wake up cold every morning, knowing full well that I went to sleep with a man holding me?
Because it happened again.
I wrap my arms around myself and rolls back into the center of the empty bed, staring at the ceiling as my emotions wash out of me. I was never supposed to get this attached, but now that I am, I would like something in return. Even something as simple as a kiss good morning would satisfy me. Something—anything—more than this.
I don’t want to be alone anymore. I fought all my life so that I always would be, but I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want anything but Brennan, and I can’t even have that.
Why can’t I have this one thing? One thing is all I ask for. One thing!
My chest progressively gets tighter as I rile myself up, becoming more and more enraged. My lip starts to twitch uncontrollably, and I dig my nails into my sides.
How could he? How dare he leave me like this?
I jump from the bed and dress myself quickly, not really bothering with trying to look nice. I storm out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I hear Brennan call out to me from the kitchen, but I don’t pay attention. I walk straight out the front door and slam it behind me, marching down the driveway and out onto the sidewalk, not stopping for anything. I just let the rage boil inside of me until I can’t help it anymore.
I let my glamour fall and lift off my feet, making people jump back away from me in the street. One woman starts to scream like bloody murder, so I turn to her and bear my fangs at her with a snarl. That seems to shut her up because then she passes out. Most other people are now just staring in shock or running away.
I push off the nearest wall with my bare feet and take off down the street, flying above the other citizens who start screeching when they see me. It’s understandable though. It’s not every day you see a demon soar past overhead.
I keep on forward, looking for an outlet for my anger, until I spot a certain someone out of the corner of my eye and my senses pick up the unbearable stench of overused Axe body spray. Aster’s just staring down at his phone and sauntering down the road like the douchebag he is, and I can’t control the pure maniacal bloodlust that comes over me when I face him. Before I can realize what I’m doing, I’m barreling toward him and tackling him to the cement.
He doesn’t have time to scream before I plunge my claws into his jugular vein and rip his throat out. The sight and smell of his sweet blood spilling across the concrete does nothing to ease my psychotic outburst; in fact, it only encourages me, so I take to his chest. I jam my hands directly into the area below his sternum and grip onto both sides of his rib cage, pulling it apart and effectively splitting Aster’s body open.
I reach inside and start scraping out his insides in a childish tantrum. I throw his innards out like a toddler tossing his toys around while having a fit, just wanting to destroy Aster in every way possible. He’s done nothing good, and he’s just a whore. He’s all wrong for Cecillia and for us. He doesn’t have a place in this pitiful world, and I’m just ridding it of him.
I claw into his stomach and through his abdomen. Next, I’m reaching up through his lungs to grab onto his still warm heart. I rip it out from his chest cavity and hold it up in front of my face. A sick smile grows across my expression as I crush it in my palm, loving the way the tender muscle is torn apart by my long nails.
And then I hear the sirens.
I’m suddenly jerked out of my demonic trance and shoved back into reality where a crowd stands around me, and I realize how bad I’ve fucked up.
I scowl at my audience and growl, “You just had to call the cops, didn’t you?”
I push off the ground and take off in the opposite direction of the growing alarms, but exhaustion takes a hold of me quickly. It’s been a while since I’ve had to use my wings to their fullest extent. Plus, the down after a bloodlust is absolutely brutal, so I am forced to land on top of one of the nearest buildings. I hit the rough gravel of the flat top roof and roll into the fall. I shift back into human form and take off in a sprint. I come to the edge of the building and leap off. Then I’m free-falling over an ally before I land on the next building over and continue running.
I need a place to hide, but I can’t think right now. I’m too concerned with some other things. Such as one, I just killed Cecillia’s sugar daddy. Two, I’m very much covered completely in blood. Three, I’m possibly being chased by the cops.
I just need to get far away—somewhere where no one will find me.
I take a quick glance around me in search of a good safe house, but I don’t see one at first. Then a small white chapel catches my eye, and then I’m changing my direction to head straight for it. I get to the edge of this rooftop and jump off, letting my wings appear to slow my fall. Then when I land, I pull them back under my glamour and take off toward the church again.
It’s secluded and hidden in between two large buildings. It’s just kind of shoved in there, practically unnoticeable. There are no cars near it and it’s obvious that it’s not of any worth to the public. It’s perfect.
I push the large wooden doors open and rush inside, closing them behind me. I don’t stop to look around either; I just head right into the nearest bathroom that I see. I rush to the sink and throw the tap up so that water gushes out of the faucet. I shove my arms under and immediately start scrubbing at my skin. The water turns a dark red and then slowly fades into a light pink as I continue rubbing at my skin. I then move onto my face, scraping dried streaks of red from my sideburns and cheeks.
I step back then look down at my clothes. They’re soaked in blood too, so I strip them off and put them under the running water. While they wash out like that, I move to another sink to rinse off my chest and legs. After I clean myself up, I grab some paper towels and pat myself down to dry the still water from my skin. Then I go back to deal with my clothes.
I wring them out some more, going to between twisting them and running water over them. I do this until the water only turns a light pink when I squeeze the moisture out of the cotton. I decide that that’s as good as it’s going to get and start to dry them out, laying them across different surfaces around the room. Then I finally let myself relax, collapsing onto the tile floor and closing my eyes as I catch my breath.
Thank the High Demons all my clothes are black, so I don’t have to worry about stains.