Cross My Heart by Elizabeth Morgan (motivational novels for students .TXT) 📗

people feel funny, didn’t they? And I really wasfreaking exhausted right now. Maybe it was the unexpected shock ofseeing an old friend for the first time in a decade, or more how hehad approached me after apparently being missing—naked, ill, andrambling like a mad man.

God, if only it couldhave been any of those reasons, but it wasn’t, and without havingto think about it, I’d already tightened the grip on the hilt in mygrasp. Despite the tension seizing my muscles, I had alreadydropped down to one knee, my left arm held high so that the whitelight of my camera coated his upper body and face.

“Blood.” The wordswere acid on my tongue, the tip of my sword a mere two inches fromthe Vampire’s jugular. “You. Are. Crying. Blood.”

***

~ Nathan ~

I don’t know why Iended up at the Monastery. I knew the sun would be rising soon andthat I needed to find somewhere safe to hold up for the day, butthe place seemed to call to me. Or perhaps it was the memories, theones I had been playing repeatedly in my mind; memories of when Iwas younger and innocent, and Vampires were just scary, sexycreatures in films. Whatever the reason was for my feet to lead methere, I certainly hadn’t been expecting to find a very grown-upElle lurking in the dark.

Vampire sight was afunny ole thing because I could see her quite clearly. She was madeof shadows, but I could make out the angles of her face, the lineof her lips, her eyes even though I couldn’t see the colour. Notthat I needed to. I knew they were moss-green. Her hair was tied upat the back, and she wore a thick scarf round her neck. She smelledof cigarette smoke and lager—not scents I would associate with her,but I didn’t know her anymore. A point she was making very clearwith her distance.

I couldn’t say I knewexactly how she would react to seeing me. I had hoped she’d havebeen happy in a surprised way, even if it was hidden by anger. Abit of anger was expected, but instead, she was cautious.

“You appeared outof nowhere, it’s dark, and you’re both in a graveyard. Anyone inher shoes would be cautious,” young Elle said in the distancewhere she leant against a nearby gravestone, arms crossed.

I don’t know why Iexpected her to be bothered about seeing me, why I’d expected abigger reaction than the one I was currently getting.

Maybe because wewere friends ... because she’s all I’ve thought about forweeks? My thoughts and words had run away with me the momentshe’d mentioned my mother, told me I had been missing for sixweeks.

Despite feeling like Icould run for miles or that I could easily lift a truck, I foundmyself needing physical support. My feet had stumbled over to thenearby wall, shoulder hitting the rough, cold stone as another doseof harsh reality made it through my skull.

I’ve been like thisfor six fucking weeks?

My mother knewsomething was wrong. She was probably worried sick ...

“And there’snothing y’can do about it.”

I slid to the floor,my butt hitting the damp grass. My sight blurred slightly, a trailof moisture staining my cheeks. Six fucking weeks.

“Get over it, youbig cry baby.” Young Elle snorted.

I dropped my hands tomy lap and scowled at her. “Grown men can cry under times ofstress, Elle. It’s not that unusual.”

My eyes smarted as theharsh white light of real Elle’s mobile torch moved closer to me.My gaze darted to her face as she crouched down in front of me.With the light held at an angle, her face was illuminated, anddespite the bags that sat under those large eyes ... she lookedamazing. Her creamy pale skin was flushed due to the cool air, ascattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her jaw wastense, her cute button nose flared.

“You’re crying blood,”she bit out.

“Oh, shit, youreally are.” Young Elle appeared beside her, wide-eyed.

My brow furrowed as Iglanced between them. I reached up to my cheeks which already feltmoist, my tears no doubt already dry due to the cool morning air.True enough as I looked down at my fingertips and palms, they weresmeared with blood, though it wasn’t a watery red as anyone wouldexpect blood to be. No, the liquid was thick and black,tar-like.

Something glinted inmy eye. “What the fuck?”

I feebly pushed back,into the wall, trying to get away from the knife which wascurrently pointed at my throat. No, not a knife.

“Is that a sword?” Iglanced down the long strip of sharp metal, stopping when my eyesmet hers. “Where the hell did you get a sword from?”

“It’s what I use tokill your kind.” The words had been ground out, her expressionstone-cold as she stared at me.

“My kind?” A nervouslaugh fluttered from my throat. “Elle, it’s me. It’s still me.”

“I don’t know you. Ihave no idea what kind of person you are anymore.” She shook herhead. “Scrap that. You’re not a person anymore.”

Something inside mesank at the truth or her words. It had been one thing to have aVampire tell you that you weren’t human; it had been another for myown fucked up mind to keep reminding me, but to hear someone elseclarify it ... Having Elle look at me as if I were a stranger, noteven a stranger, just as if I was nothing ... It actually hurt.

“No, you’re right. I’mnot a person anymore; they’ve taken that from me.” I dropped myhands to my lap. “I know I had no right to come t’you. I’ve been alousy friend—”

“A shite friend,” sheinterjected.

“I’ve been the worst,and believe me, I understand your reluctance t’help me for thatreason alone, but I need your help.”

“I don’t helpVampires. I kill them.”

“Even ones that didn’task to be Vampires in the first place?”

Her jaw flexed, acrinkle forming at the bridge of her nose. “Yes.”

“You’re jokin’right?”

Her grip tightened onthe hilt of her sword. “I never joke about Vampires.”

I pressed a littlefurther into the wall, ignoring the sharp pricks of the rough,uneven stones on my back. “See, I always thought y’did and then Ibecame one ... Could we just talk without you holding