The Nememiah Chronicles Collection

Chapter 10

True to Ben"s word, Rowena went out of her way to mother me. When she entered the room carrying a tray of food, I recognized her to be the woman who"d knelt by Ben when they"d rescued me in the woods. She was extremely attractive, petite and stylishly dressed in a pale green silk shirt and a dark gray skirt, which skimmed her slender hips. Her hair was pulled into a neat bun at the nape of her neck and her hazel eyes glowed with flashes of silver as she approached.

“Jerome tells me you need something light, so I thought some chicken soup and then jelly and ice-cream. Is that alright?” Her accent was the one I"d heard when the others were speaking earlier; there was a slight foreign lilt to her voice, which was both lyrical and charming. She graced me with a generous smile as she settled the tray on a hospital-style trolley and rolled it towards me.

I nodded, smiling shyly as Rowena assisted me to sit up in bed. Her eyes were troubled as she assessed how much pain I was enduring, fussing, and adjusting the pillows until I was reasonably comfortable. “I"ll leave you to eat.”

“No, please. I"d like you to stay – if you wouldn"t mind.” It had been a long time since any person had mothered me and Rowena made me feel at ease, despite the knowledge of what she was.

She settled in the chair Ben had vacated, watching as I picked up the spoon and tasted the soup. It was delicious and I commented on it.

She beamed with delight. “I"m so pleased. Cooking doesn"t come naturally to me.”

“Really, it"s great,” I reassured her. I spooned some more soup into my mouth, savoring the rich creamy taste. “You don"t like cooking?”

She settled back in the chair, crossing her legs gracefully. “I"ve never had much opportunity to cook, my family had kitchen staff to do that sort of thing, and of course, food is obsolete now, so I"ve never really had the opportunity to learn.” She glanced up, caught my blank expression, and continued with an ironic smile. “We don"t eat human food.”

I blushed, realizing exactly to what she was alluding. “Of course. I mean, I— Yes. Of course.” I didn"t know what else to say and returned my attention to the soup. After a few more spoonfuls, another thought crossed my mind and I spoke again, curious about the elegant woman sitting beside me. “I hope this isn"t a rude question, but I"m wondering why you said you hadn"t eaten in many years? How can that be? You don"t look any older than I am.”

Rowena glanced across at the window, a tiny smile playing against her lips. “I was born in 1852, Charlotte. If I celebrated human birthdays, I would be one hundred and fifty six.”

My mouth dropped open and I knew I was staring at her, but couldn"t seem to prevent it. The enormity of what she was suggesting was difficult to comprehend. At most, she couldn"t possibly be a day over twenty-five.

“I was made vampire in 1873. Once you are raised as vampire, you no longer age – I was twenty one when I was bitten and I"ve remained physically the same age since then,” Rowena explained calmly.

My knowledge of vampires was rudimentary, but I couldn"t even begin to grasp how someone could remain twenty-one for decades. My head had been throbbing since I woke up, but now it felt closer to exploding as I endeavored to process this glut of new information.

Rowena smoothly steered the conversation towards more trivial subjects while I finished the meal and I enjoyed the pleasant company she offered. She helped settle me back in bed – another round of agony for me, a second round of apologies from her – and collected the tray, before quietly leaving the room.

Staring at the pendant lamp, I tried to absorb the information I"d been inundated with during the past hour. I had a million questions, thousand of thoughts pouring into my mind, until I seriously questioned if my head could explode from the overload. Tapping my fingers anxiously against the plaster cast on my arm, I watched the sparkling facets of the lamp as I thought over everything I"d learned.

couldThere was another soft knock at the door and I turned towards the sound cautiously. Lucas stood in the doorway, his expression solemn. He was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black sweater, the sleeves pushed up around his elbows. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” I made an effort to sit up and groaned, giving up the idea as a bad joke.

Lucas reached my side in a second, faster than was possible for a normal man. Alarm was evident in his expression. “Is there anything I can do? Should I get help?”

“No,” I reassured him, shaking my head while I breathed through the pain. “I"m okay.”

“You most certainly are not okay,” he replied gruffly. “If you had died…” He left the sentence unfinished and his dark blue eyes filled with torment. There were bruise-like rings around his eyes and he seemed deeply troubled by the predicament in which I found myself.

I reached out to touch his hand, which he was resting on the metal rail surrounding the bed. I wanted to reassure him that he wasn"t at fault, but he dropped his hand to his side immediately. His aroma drifted over me, making my heart beat unevenly. The thumping in my chest reminded me that when Lucas was nearby, I felt more alive than I had in a very long time and yet, he was capable of killing me. It was quite the conundrum to deal with in my head.

“I know your hands are cold,” I said quietly. “Ben told me why. Please, don"t be afraid to let me touch you.”

For a second he stared at me, before his mouth twisted into an incredulous grin. “You want me – to not be frightened of you?”

meyouI grinned sheepishly. “Ironic, isn"t it?”

“Indeed it is. Extremely ironic. And here I was, thinking you should be frightened of me.” His expression sobered and he lifted his arm, running his fingertips lightly down my cheek, before taking my hand. His skin was cold and yet deeply comforting against my own warm fingers.

“I"m not frightened of you.” I paused, considering my words carefully. I never lied convincingly and a peek at his impassive face had me admitting the truth. “Well, maybe I am. A little. But I understand more after speaking to Ben and Marianne. I have a lot of questions,” I admitted bashfully.

lot“I"m sure you do,” Lucas agreed. “I believe there is nothing I cannot answer; now you know the truth. I couldn"t tell you what I was, it"s information we never divulge to humans. Now that you have discovered for yourself what I am, I will happily answer your questions. Nevertheless,” he warned softly, “keep in mind that I have some questions of my own.” He studied my face, seeing the troubled look in my eyes and hastened to reassure me. “I think we could leave mine for now though, I"m sure yours are far more important after yesterday"s events.” He settled on the chair beside the bed, leaning forward so he could retain his grip on my hand. “Okay, I"m ready. Fire away.”

Given the opportunity to seek answers, I struggled to know where to start. There were so many things I wanted to know, and so many things to understand. It seemed the best place to start was the beginning.

“How did you know my name? Is it something to do with— Marianne?”

He frowned, eyeing me speculatively. “How do you know about Marianne?”

I was positive it would be better to be candid. “I woke earlier, when you were talking. I didn"t open my eyes because I was scared. I heard you say Marianne knew you were going to meet me.”

His expression relaxed and my heart stumbled as I gazed at him. He smiled knowingly and I attempted to drag my eyes away, to concentrate on something other than the brilliant blue of his eyes. The effort was a complete failure. “Marianne has the ability to see some future events. She told me about you some months ago, knew your name was Charlotte and she thought you were someone who would be very important in my existence.” He shook his head ruefully. “Of course, she never mentioned I was going to hit you with my car.”

“Can she predict everybody"s future?”

“No. She can"t read humans, she saw you because you were destined to come into my existence. It"s a useful talent, but certainly not perfect. In Marianne"s case, it is completely haphazard most of the time, there"s neither rhyme nor reason to her visions, sometimes she goes weeks without anything, at other times she gets a number of visions together. What she sees are distorted images, which she interprets to try to comprehend their meaning. So you can"t ever be certain that what Marianne foresees will actually eventuate. And,” he added deliberately, “if people contemplate ending their lives, it makes it difficult to read their future.”

I looked away, uncomfortable with his gentle probing. “I"m not thinking about ending my life right now.”

“But you have,” he pointed out. “I knew what you were doing at the falls, Charlotte. Marianne warned me.”

I lapsed into silence and he didn"t press the subject further, squeezing my hand instead. “I"m sure you have more questions,” he coaxed.

“How can you run so fast? When you brought me to your house, you ran so far and you didn"t even work up a sweat.”

He contemplated my question for just a moment. “You noticed then. Damn and I was trying so hard to keep my movement human.” He smiled again and my heart did a crazy flip-flop in my chest. “We have some special talents, Charlotte. Part of what we are gives us abilities far beyond normal human capabilities. Perhaps it would be better to wait until you recover and I can show you.”

“Tell me and I"ll try to understand.” I didn"t want to wait, was eager to comprehend as much as I could now I"d been introduced to his world.

He sighed heavily and glanced away, a shadow of discontent crossing his face. “I don"t want to frighten you,” he admitted, his voice bleak.

“I think I trust you. Ben told me you won"t hurt me.”

He glanced up and I noticed the shadows around his eyes had darkened considerably. “Ben has great faith in my self-control. Probably far too much,” he responded bitterly.

I shivered, but continued to hold his hand. “Explain it to me. Please.”

Lucas lifted his other hand, enclosing mine between both of his. He gazed at me and I could see how he battled against himself. He seemed to want to tell me the truth, but was clearly anxious about my reaction. I steeled myself, determined to retain my composure.

He started talking, keeping his voice level and calm but there was shame behind his confession. “We are designed to be hunters, everything about us is intended to catch and kill our victims.” I shuddered inwardly, but kept my composure when he continued, choosing his words carefully. “Part of what I am gives me extraordinary abilities, far beyond normal human capability. I can run faster than almost any creature on earth. My sense of smell, eyesight, and hearing – all are significantly heightened and designed to hunt. I have more strength than ten human men, enough power to incapacitate and kill any victim I choose.”

This time I couldn"t hide the tremble, which shuddered through my limbs, recalling how easily Ambrose had broken my arm, snapping the bones like matchsticks.

Lucas stopped for a minute, giving me time to compose myself and when he began again, he seemed reconciled to telling me everything. “I can trail prey over great distances, pick up their scent, and stalk them. I can chase a victim for miles, sneak up on them silently, and give no clue of my position. My ability to run is limitless and most prey is incapable of outrunning me. By the time they are aware of impending danger, they"re already dead or dying.” He stopped speaking, his body rigid with tension as he waited for my response.

I knew he"d just explained how easily he could kill me. Despite this knowledge, I wanted to trust him, felt a smidgeon of confidence that he wouldn"t harm me. He certainly had shown no desire to hurt me up until now. But there were questions that remained unanswered and I verbalized my thoughts.

“Have you— do you— how many—” I faltered. I"d intended to ask the question concisely and couldn"t seem to find the right words to voice what I needed to know. Lucas seemed aware of what I was trying to ask, but I was terrified of the reply.

“Charlotte, you must understand – this is what I am, this is what I was intended to do. For many years, I had no way to stop myself from doing what came naturally. Killing humans, draining their blood, it was what I was designed to do, my only choice in this existence. I did kill, murdered many innocent people in cold blood. The only thing I considered in those years was my own needs, my own desires, and the desperate craving for blood. As time passed, my humanity began to reassert itself and I suffered intense guilt over what I"d inflicted upon others. There was no way to stop it, but I was determined to learn how to control it, choose my victims with more deliberation.”

He was choosing his words with less caution now, seeming intent on ensuring I knew every unsavory thing about his past. “I hunted at night, stalking the dregs of humanity – rapists, murderers – humans whom I decided didn"t deserve to live.” He laughed dryly, the sound harsh and hollow in the quiet room. “I made myself judge, jury and executioner, Charlotte. I became a vigilante and decided who lived and who died, based on my own questionable morals and the crushing guilt, which overwhelmed my every step. And of course, my own frantic craving for human blood, which negated every damn excuse for the choices I made. Still I wasn"t happy. As much as these people were the lowest common denominator of humanity, they were people with family and friends. Loved ones who cared for them, no matter what they had done in their lives. And I was murdering them, leaving their friends and family to mourn.” He rubbed my hand tenderly between his and I could sense his despair, as if it were a physical entity in the room with us.

“Couldn"t you just drink a little? Leave them alive?” I couldn"t believe I was having this conversation, the whole exchange seemed surreal.

He shook his head mournfully. “The desire for blood is a feeding frenzy, Charlotte. Whilst we feed, our only focus is the blood and the almost orgasmic pleasure that comes from drinking it. To leave someone alive is a miracle. Some can do it. Most can"t.”

“Then how do people become vampires?” I thought of the few vampire movies I"d seen, which portrayed vampires as being created through the bite of another vampire. You were bitten, and you got the vampirism. Surely, not every victim died? How did you get more vampires that way? For one brief and bizarre moment, I realized I was using the imaginary aspects of filmmaking, to try to understand something mythological, which I hadn"t believed existed in the first place. Until now.

“Vampires are created when a victim is drained to the point of death, then force fed blood from the vampire"s own body.”

“You can bleed?” I questioned. That wasn"t in the movies. Then I remembered Ambrose and how the blood had sprayed from his neck after Lucas decapitated him. Nausea welled in my stomach as I realized the movies didn"t have it right, at all.

ThatLucas smirked. “Not exactly. After we have fed, blood is accessible in our bodies for a few days. To create a new vampire, you must drain them to the point of death, then bite into your own body and allow them to drink from you. The blood is changed after it has been in our bodies; the simplest explanation is that it has been contaminated with vampirism.”

“You feed their blood back to them, but it"s different after you"ve ingested it?”

“Yes.”

“And then they"re a vampire?”

Lucas sighed. “Not exactly. The transformation takes three days. The body of the victim must be buried and on the third night, they will rise as vampire. If they have survived the transformation process.”

I was getting off-track here, dealing with things I neither wanted to know, nor needed to know now. “So what did you do?”

“I began to experiment on both myself and victims, I"m afraid. Trying to discover a way of feeding without murdering, testing theories and building on my determination to live a more peaceful life. As I mentioned, drinking blood is comparable to s****l orgasm. I began to wonder if I could use s*x as a diversion, if I could divert my attention with s****l release, then feed from my victim and perhaps my need to drain completely could be avoided. Of course, it was a double-edged sword because I needed to feed more regularly to ensure my thirst wasn"t at its worst point when I approached a woman.”

He glanced up, no doubt seeing the flush of embarrassment which covered my exposed skin. “My apologies, Charlotte, I"m embarrassing you.” He brushed his fingers across my cheek. “You blush so beautifully.”

Swallowing deeply I looked away, cursing the blush which had been the bane of my life. “Did it work?” I couldn"t prevent a rush of jealousy, knowing Lucas had slept with other women. Probably a lot of other women.

“It was not a viable solution. The desire for s*x and blood are deeply intertwined and after a couple of attempts, I dismissed it.” He squeezed my fingers gently and I regained enough composure to face him again.

“What about bagged blood?” It seemed like a feasible theory; drinking bagged blood wouldn"t hurt anyone.

Lucas shook his head immediately. “Unfortunately it isn"t practical. The blood banks already have severe shortages of blood and the average human male has about eight pints of blood in his body, which we can deplete in one feeding. The practice is just not sustainable. Not without denying those who are seriously ill or injured and I couldn"t contemplate that.”

His response made me somewhat calmer. Surely, it was testament to his character for him to be concerned about sick people? Then again, he"d just finished telling me how many people he"d murdered, so maybe my perception was somewhat skewed.

Lucas continued. “I began to consider other, more extreme measures to eliminate the need to kill. Whilst I require blood to exist, I questioned whether it must be human blood, if we could perhaps survive on animal blood.” He unclasped his left hand from mine and reached forward, touching my cheek gently. “I must have blood to survive, Charlotte,” he explained quietly, “but I found it was possible to hunt animals and live on their blood. I don"t kill humans any longer.”

Relief crept over my body like a drug. I hadn"t realized how tightly I"d been holding myself, like a wind-up toy that had been tightened to the point of the spring snapping. “Oh,” I managed faintly. He waited while I absorbed his explanation, allowing me to think in silence.

“So,” I remarked slowly, “do you get all the, uh, vitamins you need that way?” It was the first thought to cross my mind.

He stared at me with a bemused look, before bursting into laughter. When he managed to control his amusement, he shook his head. “Charlotte, I tell you I drink blood and you are worried about my vitamin intake. You really are a funny girl.” The silver embers in his eyes sparkled with life, drawing my attention to them.

“Your eyes – they"re different to anything I"ve ever seen in a normal human.”

“They mark me as what I am, Charlotte.”

I glanced away and thought for a long moment. “When I met Ben, his eyes looked normal, but when he was helping me out in the woods, his eyes had golden streaks.”

“We can disguise what we are, Charlotte. It"s a mind trick.”

“A mind trick?” I repeated blankly.

“My eyes as you see them are what they truly are. Some of us have silver streaks, others have gold, some bronze and as you"ve already discovered, my eyes are an unusually dark blue. We use a mind trick to make our eyes appear more normal when humans see us. I imagine Ben didn"t think to hide it out in the forest, because we were so worried about saving you.”

“You never used a mind trick on me,” I pointed out. “I saw your eyes like this from the very beginning.”

Lucas"s eyes twinkled, the silver sparks flaring like miniature fireworks. “I can"t hide them from you. For some reason, you are not influenced by my mind tricks.”

“But Ben could do it?”

“Yes.”

“I wonder why,” I mused aloud.

“That is one question I can"t answer.” Lucas squeezed my fingers and I noticed that the skin around his eyes had darkened, even during the short period we"d been talking. He looked as if he hadn"t slept in weeks.

“Are you tired?” I queried.

Lucas shook his head. “Not tired, Charlotte.”

Like an epiphany, I realized what he was alluding to, putting the connection together in my head. “You"re hungry.” The skin around his eyes had darkened like this before, when he"d been near me. At the hospital, I"d seen it happen and at his house, which was where I assumed I was now. Why hadn"t I thought before now to ask where I was? It didn"t matter, I decided, turning my attention and fears back to the matter at hand. “Why do the shadows around your eyes darken when you"re with me?” I demanded. I knew the answer, but needed to hear it from him. I needed to confirm my suspicions of exactly what it meant, why he avoided contact with me, why he"d kept away from me in the past. I searched his eyes, waiting for the answer.

He stiffened visibly and frowned heavily as he considered the question. “I think you know why, Charlotte,” he responded huskily.

My voice was barely a whisper when I responded. “You want to kill me.”

His reaction was startling. “No!” he shouted furiously.

NoI snatched my hand from his, the swift movement setting off a round of painful throbbing throughout my broken body.

He was instantly contrite. “Charlotte.” When I didn"t respond he uttered a string of expletives, then immediately apologized. “Please, forgive me. That was completely uncalled for.”

I watched him cautiously, frightened by his aggressive response. He stood up and walked a few steps away, turning his back to me before he spoke. “I don"t want to kill you. I will do everything – everything within my power to keep that from happening. That"s what I have been doing for the past few months, keeping away from you, trying to get my craving under control.” He turned to face me again, his eyes filled with sadness. “That day when I saw you at the Quikmart – I was stunned when I ran into you unexpectedly. You were so close and I could smell your wonderful scent. It immediately drove me wild and my baser instincts kicked in. I"m sorry I was so impolite – I had to get out, had to get away from you before I did something I would spend an eternity regretting. I care about you, far more than I rightly should given our circumstances. I don"t want to hurt you, Charlotte. I thought by staying away, it was the best possible solution for both of us.” He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “But no matter what I do, you are in my mind constantly, day and night and I can"t get your scent out of my memory. It"s nearly driven me mad.”

everything“My scent?” I repeated blankly.

“I told you about our heightened senses. In my situation, where I do not drink human blood, I have become immune to the general scent of humans to a certain extent. I still smell human blood, of course, and have the underlying thirst for human blood, but it can be sated with animal blood. In this situation – with you – all the arrogant pride I had in my ability to abstain has proven to be nonsense. Since meeting you, I"ve discovered the allure of your scent completely overwhelms me. It makes me desire the taste of your blood, more than I have ever desired anything before.”

He paused for a moment and I stared at him vacantly. “I see you still don"t fully understand. Let me think.” I waited while he paced the bedroom floor, his brow furrowed in concentration. He stopped pacing suddenly and looked back at me. “Imagine the finest wine in the world. It has the most delicate, beautiful perfume you have ever experienced. The bouquet is beyond description. You are that wine to me. The temptation is great to sip the wine, to savor the wine; to sate my thirst with what I know would be the sweetest drink in the world.” He stepped towards me, his expression solemn. “But I know if I were to drink that wine, I would never get the opportunity to smell that sweet bouquet again. So I must keep the wine safe, learn to live with cherishing the bouquet, to control my own actions.”

YouI contemplated the explanation, understanding so much more. Probably more than I wanted to. It didn"t change a thing though, I still felt my heart sing when I looked into his eyes, still wanted to know more about him and spend time with him. From what he"d said, however, it seemed impossible. How could we spend time together, if it was such torture for him to be close to me? A wave of despair gripped me and the wretchedness was suddenly overwhelming.

The door crashed open and a tall woman flew through it, looking deeply perturbed. She stopped abruptly, glancing from me to Lucas and back again. “Everything okay?” she inquired cheerfully.

I nodded, stunned by her outlandish appearance. She was both eye-catching and extraordinary – wearing no make-up, her skin was translucent, her eyes the blue of a calm ocean on a summer day. Swirls of silver twinkled and shifted in her eyes as she smiled cheerfully, her lips pouty and full, though I doubted collagen was involved. Her lips were just perfectly formed and against the paleness of her skin, the color of crushed strawberries. Her hair was outrageous – gelled and styled into what I would probably describe as gothic punk – it was the darkest black imaginable with streaks of brilliant pink, which reminded me of vibrant flamingo feathers. She was wearing relatively normal black jeans, which skimmed her extra long legs, the denim artfully torn and ripped and she was barefoot, her nails painted the same shade of pink as her hair. Her shirt was tie-dyed, in iridescent blue, pink, and neon green. Somehow it all looked perfectly chic, if somewhat overpowering, to gaze at for any period.

“Cool. Okay. I"m Marianne, by the way. It"s a pleasure to meet you.” She glanced back to Lucas and grimaced beneath the thunderous expression in his eyes. “Sorry for the interruption. I"ll catch you both later. See ya!” She disappeared as quickly as she had arrived, slipping out the door with a happy grin.

“I wonder what that was about,” Lucas murmured. He took another few steps towards me and I reached out to him. He was at my side in an instant, clasping my hand in his. He continued to gaze at me for a minute, before realization crept into his eyes. “What were you thinking, just before Marianne arrived?”

I looked away, blushing furiously. He caught my chin with his fingers, drawing my face up to meet his. “Please, tell me Charlotte. I need to know.”

“I was thinking that… despite you wanting to bite me, I still want to be here with you.” I flushed a deeper red and he waited for me to continue. “I was thinking it was an impossible situation, I couldn"t allow you to struggle with your… issue, not if it was going to hurt you so much to be near me.” I looked down at his hand intertwined with mine, his skin so white against my own, which had seemed quite pale until recently. It was difficult to speak about this, we barely knew one another, and yet I was drawn to him, as I had never been to another man. The very thought of admitting what I felt was enough to make me feel utterly pathetic. How needy was I?

issue“Go on, please Charlotte.”

The next words came out in a rush, and I cringed in embarrassment. “When I thought about not seeing you any more, I felt depressed and unhappy.” There. I"d said it. As pathetic as it was, I wanted to be with him. I felt certain he would laugh in my face and prepare to ship me off to the nearest hospital.

He nodded thoughtfully, instead. “That explains Marianne"s panic. I assume that was the exact moment in which your future disappeared.” He managed a grim smile. “She probably thought I"d lost the battle and bitten you.”

I smiled weakly. “Is it so difficult? To be near me?”

Lucas"s jaw clenched and the muscle was clearly visible beneath his skin. “More difficult than you can possibly imagine,” he admitted huskily, squeezing my fingers. “It"s a battle I intend to win, however. I will get used to it, I promise you. There is no other solution, I have tried staying away from you and couldn"t bear it. That was almost more painful.”

We sat wordlessly for a minute and I savored the words he"d spoken. Did they mean what I wanted them to? Did he care for me? Was it even possible, for a vampire and a human to like one another? I closed my eyes, thinking through everything we"d discussed and concentrated on his cool fingers rubbing the back of my hand, his thumb tracing circles against my skin.

There was another knock at the door and Ben entered the room. “My apologies for interrupting, but Marianne informs me Charlotte is in need of pain relief. Without it, she"s going to endure a terrible night.”

I raised an eyebrow at Lucas. “I thought you said Marianne couldn"t read humans.”

Lucas seemed intrigued. “Where you are concerned, she seems to be remarkably accurate. For what reason, I don"t know.”

Ben began to prepare a syringe of fluid and I eyed it anxiously. “I"m really okay,” I muttered, but my face apparently gave me away. The pain had steadily increased while I talked with Lucas and I"d ignored it, wanting to continue our discussion. Now it hurt to take the smallest breath and aches were springing up all over my body.

Ben carefully inserted the needle into my arm, his technique so skillful that it was virtually painless. “Jerome will be furious if I don"t follow his orders. I"m giving you some morphine, Charlotte. It will reduce the pain to a more tolerable level and allow you to rest.”

I nodded sleepily, my eyes beginning to close of their own accord as the morphine entered my bloodstream.

Lucas patted my hand. “I"ll leave you to rest.”

“No, please stay here with me,” I mumbled. I clutched at his hand and he sat down in the chair beside me.

“Alright. I"ll stay here with you, I promise. I will be here for you, as long as you want,” Lucas said huskily.

I smiled, then the morphine overwhelmed me and I slept.