In War, There Is Love

Just Like Me

It wasn’t over.

It would never be over. Not when guilt had been eating her up for three days and nights, never leaving her sleep, eat, think.

It was overwhelming. The fact that she was the reason for a man’s death and no revenge could ever be taken.

She had written to her father, explaining everything that had happened, but Silas had told her what Demetrius had predicted. They couldn’t do anything, because Nolan had been in the wrong. The damned Council of Peace would be on the vampires’ side.

To hell with their politics.

If no one was going to bring justice, then she would do it herself.

Or at least she would try.

“My Lady, this is dangerous. He’ll kill you,” Ivy warned her for the millionth time already, as Maya strapped a dagger against her right thigh and covered it with the long skirt of her dress.

“He won’t.” Maya was sure of this more than she was sure of the air she breathed.

Why? She wasn’t sure.

“But you cannot kill him with that,” Ivy insisted. Sometimes Maya cursed her luck of a maid so cowardly, but then at other times she appreciated Ivy more.

“Unfortunately.”

Maya closed her eyes and tried reaching her powers. They were shaky, uncontrollable, sometimes unreachable. They had been like that since... since then.

But the invisible magic was the easiest she could access, which was strange because only a few of the royal faeries could do that.

She had royal blood after that. The lack of title would never erase that.

“Wow,” Ivy whispered. “It’s like you’re not even here.”

Maya smiled at herself and left without saying a thing more. She walked through the dark hallways slowly, with small steps no one would be able to hear. She wasn’t sure what she would do to him yet, but all she knew was that she’d prove to her husband he couldn’t get away with everything he did.

Actions had consequences.

Especially if those actions were killing around for fun.

Another wave of guilt suddenly hit her hard. It was her fault. If she had only convinced Nolan to run away... Maya shook her head and let the thought fly out of her head. Not the time for that.

There were no guards on his door, thanks to his big ego, so she pushed the door open slowly, without making a noise.

And there he was, on his bed just like Maya predicted. Being a vampire this old, he didn’t sleep anymore, but he still took an hour or two to just lay down on his bed, with his eyes closed, almost in a state of sleep even though not fully.

That was what Anthony had told her, at least.

Maya walked against the wall in silence, and her husband’s lack of movement told her he hadn’t sensed her inside yet.

Thankfully.

She walked towards the bed, braver now. You can do this, Maya. You can. But first, she got rid of the invisibility magic. She didn't have any use for it now, not when she wanted him to see her.

Like this, with his eyes closed, he looked peaceful. Beautiful. Not like the psychopath he really was.

There was something about him... so perfect it took her breath away. But Maya ignored that, just like she ignored the loud beating of her heart, as she gathered the skirt in her hands and straddled him on the mattress. One knee on his right side, one on his left.

Maya was aware that he could still easily throw her away, but it still gave the illusion that she had trapped him.

He felt strong under her, however. Defined. For a second making Maya forget what she was here for.

This was a bad idea.

One second his eyes remained closed, and in the other they were looking up to her, dangerous and promising. “You do know this is called s****l harassment, don’t you, darling wife?”

In a smooth movement, Maya got the dagger out of the strap on her thigh and pointed it on the middle of his chest,where his heart was supposed to be. “Don’t move.”

His goddammed face split into a huge, wicked grin. “Look at you. So brave.”

God, for a second the praise did something unexplainable to her insides. And he knew. She could see it in his eyes, he knew the effect he had on her.

“Are you here to kill me, darling?” He didn’t move. He just stood there, with her straddling his hips and with a dagger right above his heart like this was the most normal occasion they could find themselves in.

“I’m not messing around, husband,” Maya whispered, slowly tearing his black shirt with the point of her dagger.

“I’m sure you are not.” His arrogant smile was unnerving, however.

“I told you it wasn’t over,” she continued, now the dagger tearing the skin just a little so she could draw blood.

His grin grew wider. “Kinky.”

“Shut up.”

Demetrius chuckled. “So you’re here to get revenge on your lover, wife?”

The same wave of guilt hit her, stronger this time. Why had she forgotten why she was here in the first place?

It was his eyes that had distracted him. Or his smile. Or his deep, husky voice.

And now she could feel him between her legs. He was aroused.

God, this was so f.ucking messed up.

“Yes,” Maya answered, thankful for her ability to lock her emotions up.

It didn’t matter though, sometimes, in moments like these, it felt like Demetrius could read her like an open book. No one in her life had ever done that.

“Such a pity you cannot kill me.” He shook his head slowly. “It would be written in books. The Queen that murdered her husband to take her lover’s revenge. Such tragedy.”

“Shut up,” she repeated, madder this time. How was it possible that she had come here to torment him, and he was actually doing that to her? While she held the dagger in her hands. “Perhaps I cannot kill you, but I can give you misery. For a few minutes, at least.”

She teared the skin deeper this time, the point of it disappearing inside his body. Blood started leaking from his naked, god-like chest, but he looked down at it like it was one of the pieces of art he made, and not actually his body.

Did it even hurt?

Maya couldn’t understand a damn thing right now.

“You do that, my darling wife. As long as it gives you the illusion you’re doing something to take his revenge.”

Her eyes widened. What was he...? “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Maya hissed, holding his gaze.

But his smirk sent shivers down her spine. “I know exactly what I’m talking about. You know what this is?” He looked down at the dagger in his chest. “Guilt.”

Maya gulped. “Shut up, Demetrius.”

“But it isn’t guilt that he’s dead, not really,” he continued. “It is guilt that you don’t care that much. That you don’t care at all, actually.”

Maya wanted to believe with her entire heart that all he was doing was manipulating her. And yet...

“You have no idea what I care about.”

“But I do,” Demetrius answered with a grin. “It isn’t that easy to crack you up, but it makes it all the better. What you’re guilty of, is that deep down you know, even if you’d have predicted that I’d kill him, you’d have acted the same. You’d have left him there in the garden either way. Even though he would give his life for you.”

Instinctively, Maya had stuck the dagger deeper, making him wince. And yet smile like he had won something precious over her. Reading the truth all over her face.

“That’s not true,” she whispered.

“You’re guilty because these games with me mean to you more than the life of your ex-lover ever will.”

“Stop.”

But he didn’t stop. Slowly, he raised his upper half in his hands, even though the dagger cut deeper inside his chest with the movement. Placing his lips on her ear, he whispered, “You’re just like me, Maya. You’re such a bad girl. Just how I like it.”

She trembled even while he placed one of his hands on her hips, the knife on his chest being the only thing that separated them now. “I’m nothing like you.”

The hand moved to her hair, brushing her front strand behind her pointy ear. “Yes, you are. You’re a little sick just like me. But it’s alright. It can be our little secret, no one has to know.”

She could feel him everywhere. Why did she feel him everywhere? His fingers were on her neck, stroking the skin just slightly, but it was still like he had touched the deepest, darkest part of her soul, the one that she had thought was left past in her childhood.

“I’m nothing like you,” she repeated like a broken record.

“You aren’t?” Now he smiled like a predator that had his prey in his hands. “But if you aren’t, and if you believe in fate, why did you think your Gods mated you to me?”

She froze. Her heart stopped beating too, she was sure of it. “It isn’t true.”

“It is. I confirmed it.”

He traced her jaw with his lips, barely even brushing the skin, until his lips were just above hers.

When Maya was so sure he would kiss her, and when she wasn’t even sure she would be able to stop, he didn’t really kiss her. He took only her bottom lip between his teeth, biting down slowly with his fangs until he drew blood.

Then he started sucking blood out of her bottom lip like he was lost in a dessert and she was his last source of water.

His eyes closed, and he smiled against her lips as he licked them clean. “My heaven,” he whispered, so low Maya was sure she had imagined it.

And the entire time she didn’t move. She didn’t do anything, she didn’t tell him to stop. She just let herself feel the sensations all over her body, building right between her legs.

Then, to her surprise, Demetrius gathered his blood from the knife still on his chest using his thumb, and brought it to her lips. Maya opened them like she was on a trace. Completely at his mercy.

She sucked the thumb on her mouth even after she was sure it was clean off the blood, feeling the coppery taste on her mouth, watching as his eyes slowly changed from amber to red.

Not because he was angry.

Because he was hungry. Hungry for her.

“See,” her husband whispered in her ear. “Just like me.”

That was what finally brought Maya out of her trace. Catching him by surprise, he pushed his upper half away and jumped out of bed, practically running out of his room.

This had been a bad idea.

This had been the worst idea she had ever had, and it had backfired like hell.