Little Lies by Elena Reyes (ebook reader for laptop .TXT) 📗

the closed panes and I look up, catching a shadow looking in. Two beady eyes.

“That’s it. I’m certifiable.” The animal head-butts the glass hard. Once. Twice. Three times before it shatters and the pieces rain down on the ground. “I wonder what did me in? Did I snap like those people on all the crime shows I watched? Will they make one about me?” I mutter under my breath, sitting up with my back against the wall.

My mattress is on the floor with only a thin blanket and pillow atop of it. I will say I’m thankful to still be in my clothes, the paint splatters from earlier today now dry and caked on my skin.

The animal starts to descend into the room headfirst, but pulls back when the clack, clack, clack of heels comes near. They stop at my door for a second, the feminine voice saying something to whoever is with her before turning the handle.

“Nice to see you’re up.” Elise walks in and stops a few feet from me. “Not that you’ll be around much longer.”

“What are you doing here? Weren’t you missing?”

“To the world, I am missing.” She takes another step closer, and there’s something in her hand that looks like a syringe. “Just like you’ll be soon.”

I’m wobbly when I stand, stumbling a bit, but I manage to pull myself up against the wall just below the window where I know it’s hiding. “Stay away from me.”

I don’t know who’s worse; the snake or her.

“Or what?”

“Elise, this isn’t funny. You’re going too far.”

“He will never know what it’s like to rule with you by his side.” Her eyes hold so much evil. So much hate. “Long live the queen, Miss Moore.”

Her hand snaps back and forward quickly, and I only manage to catch the glint of metal before it’s coming toward me. I’m paralyzed, stunned she’d do this, but then it falls to the ground somewhere to my left.

The python slithers down the wall, its large body falling slowly to the ground before taking its place in front of me. Like a protector would. It coils, but its head remains off the ground while staring her down. For each move she makes the snake follows it.

I don’t scream. I don’t cry.

I watch and wait.

Surprised when Elise attempts to walk back out slowly, the fear I felt now reflected in her eyes. “He’s coming.”

The serpent doesn’t move, but flicks it tongue out almost lazily. Almost taunting.

“Fucking shit!” Screams come from the corridor then, a mass frenzy of terror, and I slide down the wall behind the albino guard. He’s either here to kill me or protect me, and right now, either sounds fine. “This isn’t over. Tell him this isn’t over!”

Then she turns and runs, yelling at someone to get her out before they are caught and killed.

And through it all, as doors slam and people’s screams begin to fade, I remain where I am.

It could be minutes or hours, who knows, but my rational mind comes to when a cold head lies atop my hand on the floor. Its skin is smooth, it’s presence a bit comforting, and I smile down at the creature.

“If you’re here to kill me, go ahead. At this point, it might be better this way.” An angry hiss is the response I get, and I nearly laugh at the sound. I’m hanging with a snake. I’m touching a snake. The animal takes his eyes off me, taking in my reactions, and after a few minutes rubs his head against my skin the same way that Mr. Pickles does. “Are you wanting me to pet you?”

Not that I expect a response, but when I get this small little nod, I laugh. Loud and near hysterics, but I do. I run my fingers over the head and down the neck in slow passes while looking toward the room’s entrance. I can still hear some commotion outside this room—try to ignore the shrill screams of agony—until it all dies down.

Then there’s nothing.

A stillness that is eerie.

But through it all, my companion stays by my side and poised to strike, if it comes to that.

That is, until footsteps come close. Closer.

They stop just outside my door and a sharp whistle rends the air, a sound my new friend follows. No looking back. No goodbyes.

Who knows what fate has in store, and I close my eyes for a second. I’m accepting. It is what it is until a throat clears, and a scent I’d know anywhere greets my senses.

I don’t need to open my eyes to know it’s Theo.

“Look at me,” he commands, voice deeper. Rougher than I’ve ever heard, and I follow the order without pause, nearly screaming when I see his bloodied clothes, his features hardened with eyes glinting red, and the two white fangs protruding from his gums.

“Hello, pretty girl.”

34

Theodore Astor

Vampire King

“What did you just call me?” Gabriella’s shaking, her hand in her hair and fisting the lovely red locks I adore. “This can’t be. No. No. NOOOOOO!”

“Relax, sweetheart. Just breathe, and I will explain.”

“What the hell is there to explain? It’s just a coincidence and—”

“You’re busy making excuses when we both know I’m real.” I take a step closer but she scrambles up, pushing against the wall as if it would move for her. “When you visit me each night in your dream, pretty girl. When you taunt me every moment of the day while awake.”

“It’s a dream. Just a dream.” Her head shakes from side to side, and her breathing becomes choppy. My beautiful little artist is panicking, but I’m not going to stop. I’ve waited so long for her. For this moment. “This is just a figment of my imagination…I’m probably on heavy medication and seeing shit.”

“Then why do your legs still clench at the sight of me?” My nostrils flare, and her sweet scent seeps—infiltrates my senses. Her breathing is arousing to me, but scenting her desire is a weakness; always has