My Beautiful Sin Read online

“It's because I love you why I won't bite you. You're not a goddamn piece of meat.”

  “Oh, bullshit! I'm good enough to fuck but my blood's not good enough to suck. Wow, Jean, way to make a girl feel special and loved.”

  “Don't you dare try to emotionally blackmail me into biting you.” Jean pointed a shaky finger at her. “I said I won't do it, so accept that. I don't want what we have to be connected to that part of me. It's a part I'm ashamed of. We don't need that; we're better than that.”

  “But I want all of you. I want to enjoy you like that, the way they do. I want to be the only one. Why won't you give me that?” Lissa pleaded.

  “You have all of me. The only parts that matter: my heart and my body. You don't need the other part. It's impersonal and as far away from love as it gets. You are the only one, I promise you. Just let that be enough for you, baby.”

  “I'll never be the only one as long as you come to me for one thing and go to everyone else for the other.” Lissa jumped out of bed and yanked open the closet door. “I should be your only source. I'm the one who loves you, and I should get to nourish you.”

  “What are you doing?” Jean said, though the question didn't need to be asked. She could see that the girl was dragging on a pair of panties. “You're acting like a spoiled brat!” This was the angriest she'd ever been with her, the most insulting thing she'd ever said, and it pained her to do it. The fact that they were arguing at all broke her. Especially about this, her curse. Was it determined to ruin every facet of her life even more than it already had?

  “And you're being a selfish cow!” Lissa screamed back. “I'm the one who had to walk around with people flaunting those fucking scarves in front of me, reminding me that they can satisfy my girlfriend better than I can. Silently telling me that my girlfriend's declaration of love to me is a big, fat lie.”

  That was it. Something in her snapped. She heard it, like a crack of thunder. Felt it course through her body. It was one thing to insult her, but quite another to question her love and devotion. The girl had successfully managed to provoke her.

  She moved across the room so quickly Lissa didn't have a chance to get away. She lifted her, carried her back to the bed and dropped her on it. When the girl shrieked, she ignored it.

  “Is this what you want?” Jean asked, pinning her down as she straddled her, her grip tight. “You want to see a monster?” She grabbed her around the neck, but didn't use too much pressure. She wasn't really trying to hurt her. “You want to feel helpless and powerless and afraid? Huh?”

  Lissa's breaths quickened as the fear increased; but so too did the relish. And when Jean extended her fangs, Lissa gasped but didn't dare move.

  “You want to be at my mercy, to know that with one bite I could drain the life from you? Suck you dry if I lose control, if I'm too hungry.” And then she bore down on the girl, piercing her skin, hitting the vein and forcing another gasp from her lips.

  “Suck me dry,” Lissa moaned. She didn't know what she was saying; that was how it worked. Jean knew only too well that the fear didn't last long, that the euphoria kicked in the moment fang met vein. They'd described it as being high and coming at the same time. Everyone gave a similar, satisfied moan as they submitted to her and felt their body being drained. It was always the same.

  What wasn't the same, however, was the taste. Everyone was different. Everyone, that is, except Lissa. As Jean drank from her lover for the first time, something she'd avoided as long as she could, it happened. The thing that she feared would happen. Her taste was familiar.

  “Mmhm,” Lissa murmured.

  Jean squeezed her eyes shut, but the images kept coming, became more distinct in her mind's eye. Flashes of that fateful night. Her first and only time. Lissa's taste was a memory in itself. She'd taken the same way on that awful night, only back then she'd been unable to stop herself. The great thing about dying this way was that the victim never felt the pain, never felt the end coming. By the time they took their final breath, the fear had long since passed.

  No, she was far too familiar, and the images were just too powerful. And when Jean's eyes sprung open, it wasn't Lissa beneath her, but her victim from the night she'd taken her first and only life.

  She plucked her fangs from the girl's neck, clapped a hand over her own mouth and stared, horrified, down at Lissa. She practically fell off the bed in her scramble to get as far away from her as possible. The bile swelled in her throat and stomach, the taste clinging to her tongue. She heaved several times, the nausea building inside her but never bringing itself to the surface. She didn't want that blood inside her. She never should have taken it.

  Lissa gawked at her, two specks of blood on her neck still. “What happened? Why did you stop?”

  Jean gripped onto the chair for support, feeling weak and nauseous. It was all in her head, deep down she knew that, but it didn't make her feel any less ill. Didn't stop her wanting to throw up. She couldn't bear to look at Lissa, though she suspected, and correctly, that the girl was now crestfallen.

  “Why are you acting like this?” she cried, tears in her words.

  “I told you I didn't want to do it,” Jean growled, clutching at her stomach. “Why did you keep pushing me?”

  “Is my blood making you ill? Am I poisoned or something?”

  Not poisoned in the literal sense, Jean thought. But at that particular moment she wished she were. Anything would have been better than this. As long as the taste still lingered in her mouth, there would be no relief from any of it. Yet in the midst of it all, she found herself again. Her overwhelming love and concern for Lissa was louder than the feeling of nausea, louder even than the flashbacks. When she finally looked at her, her heart broke.

  “I make you ill,” Lissa wailed, in a heap on the bed. “Everyone else gets to give you this, but when it comes to me I make you want to throw up.”

  “Baby, it's not like that,” Jean pleaded. But it was exactly like that. Because no one else would taste that familiar and thus transport her back to that horrible night.

  Bawling loudly, Lissa pulled out the first outfit she could find and dragged it on.

  “Lissa, please don't. I'm sorry,” Jean said. Her voice was frantic, desperate.

  “I can't stay here with you. Not after this.”

  “Let me explain.” She said it, though she hoped never to have to do it.

  “There's nothing to explain. I get it, I make you sick.”

  “That's not true.” She watched the girl head to the door. “Where are you going?”

  “Away from here. Away from you.”

  She didn't want her to leave, but for that moment in time, she didn't want her to stay either. If she stayed Jean would have to explain. And if she explained... well, she knew Lissa would leave anyway.

  She wept like a baby when she heard the front door slam shut. And then she screamed in frustration, seeing her red tears falling all over her pale skin. She hated her tears. She hated her fangs. She hated her condition. But most of all she hated herself for falling in love with Lissa and letting things get this far, knowing that this was the only possible outcome for their doomed relationship.

  TWENTY-THREE

  I'd been cuddling the couch cushion since I'd woken up that morning on Petr's couch. My arms ached, and my eyes were sore from all the crying I'd done during the night.

  “I won't tell you how terrible you look, because I know you don't need to hear that right now,” Petr said when he came into the room. He set a mug of steaming coffee down in front of me.

  I shot him a look that could kill. “Thanks. You're a real pal.”

  “Who else would answer your call at one in the morning, try to decipher what you were trying to say through your tears, and then go pick you up?”

  Well, when he put it like that... Truth was, he'd been a diamond last night. I was in no fit state to get to his place on my own, even in a cab.

  He sat beside me and didn't speak, though I knew he had a million questions
. We hadn't spoken when we got back to his. Now I would have to tell him everything.

  “You wanna know what happened last night, don't you? Why I was so upset?”

  “You don't have to tell me now if you don't want to.” That wasn't like him. Normally he couldn't wait for me to spill.

  “I don't know what happened myself. Or should I say, I don't know why.” Why me? Why my blood? Why, why, why?

  “You didn't find her in bed with someone else, did you? Because I warned you about that.”

  “No, but I might as well have.” His clueless expression told me to elaborate. I sighed. “You've been with a few vampires. Have they ever... been sick, or looked like they wanted to vomit after drinking your blood?” I covered my face with my hands and never wanted to come back out. It hurt even more to say it aloud, to hear how crazy it sounded.

  “What?” He actually laughed. “I can honestly say that has never happened with me. In fact, I don't think that's ever happened to another living soul on this planet. Even tainted blood doesn't affect them. Are you seriously telling me that's what happened to you last night?”

  I nodded, my face still covered. That was exactly what I was saying.

  “Shit!”

  “Yeah, shit,” I agreed.

  “How... what... Eh, I don't know what to say. What actually happened?”

  “She kept refusing to bite me, and I didn't know why, so I basically threatened to leave. Then she grabbed me and sunk her teeth into me... It was just as you described, Pete. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Everything was beautiful and perfect... And then she stopped. You should have seen her face. She couldn't get away from me fast enough. She was retching and everything.”

  I'd thought at the time that she was dying, that something in my blood had choked or poisoned her. The terror you feel when you think you're killing your girlfriend, it's the worst thing ever.

  “Did she at least tell you why it happened?”

  “She didn't say anything. Well, I didn't let her. I just blew out of there.” What explanation could there possibly have been? I doubt it ever happened to Robyn or any of the gazillion other people she fed from daily. No, her aversion to biting me had been pretty evident throughout our short-lived relationship. I'd waited and waited, hoping that I wouldn't have to ask for it. I still couldn't believe she'd said no to me, to that.

  “Then maybe you should hear her out. There's gotta be a reason.”

  “There is one: my blood is crap and she doesn't want it in her body.” I sulked and cuddled the cushion tighter.

  “That's stupid and it doesn't make sense,” Petr said. “Talk to her. I bet she feels worse than you do about it.”

  If that were the case, surely she would have shown up at Petr's place that evening, the moment she woke up. She knew I would either be here or at the studio. I fully expected her to come pounding on his door and fighting for me. But she never showed. Nor did she show the following night. For two nights she didn't contact me, didn't come to see me. I started to think that my place on Petr's couch was permanent.

  Then I had to go back to work.

  I had to pick up my uniform and other bits from Jean's house, so I chose daytime to do that, wishing to avoid her. Petr had been lending me some of his old clothes; as much as I liked his dress sense, I found they looked much better on him than me. I wanted my own stuff.

  Even though I knew Jean wouldn't be awake, my entrance into the house was quiet. I tiptoed up the stairs.

  “Lissa, you're back.” I spun round to see Sandra at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Hi Sandra,” I said stiffly. “I'm not staying, I just came to get some of my things.”

  She gave me a wistful look. “Ms. Posey will be sad to hear that.”

  “Well Ms. Posey should have come to find me if she really cared,” I mumbled to myself. She didn't hear.

  “I'll tell her you came.”

  “Don't bother.”

  “I'll tell her you came,” she said again, smiled, then disappeared into the living-room. Of course she would tell her I was here. She told her everything.

  Her bedroom, our bedroom, felt cold and empty, as though no one had been in it since the night I left. My eyes drifted to the bed. It was exactly as I'd left it. No one had been in there since I'd left, not even to change the sheets.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and peered around the room, my gaze settling on the chair. The vision of Jean keeled over, clutching it, looking paler than she ever had before, having just drunk my blood, flashed before me. I cried a little before I had the strength to stuff some clothes into my bag. Then I left the mansion, wondering whether I would ever be back there. Wondering if she even wanted me there. If she'd ever wanted me there.

  “What has it been, over a month? And you still can't get the head right?” This slight came from Robyn, who shoved me aside and took over on the beer tap because I'd screwed up the head three times already that evening, and a couple of customers had complained. There were people dying of cancer out there, and these pathetic pricks were bemoaning the way I'd poured their beer!

  “I'm sorry, I'm a little distracted today,” I said.

  “Well get it together or go home. We don't need you here anyway.”

  I made a face behind her back, which the customer saw and laughed at. That made me feel better.

  “Go clean some tables or something. You've found your calling in life,” Robyn sneered.

  I grabbed a rag and did as commanded, only too happy to do it. Who needed weightlifting when you could clean tables? My biceps were really starting to look impressive.

  I wondered if Robyn knew of the strife between me and Jean. Would Jean have told her ex-lover about us? I hated to think that she had. I hated to think that Robyn was gloating, knowing she'd been right about us not lasting.

  The tables got it all; every ounce of fury, anguish and heartache I had in me. I didn't even want to be there, in her bar, working for her. And where the hell was she anyway?

  It was as if she'd read my mind, because mere seconds after the thought, I looked up and saw her strolling into the bar. She saw me immediately but looked away quickly, walked straight past me and went to speak to Robyn. My heart sank like the Titanic. Well, that settled it. She was over me. I meant nothing to her. She'd had her fun; she'd probably already found a new Lissa Rowan to replace me.

  The tears begged to fall, but I kept them at bay, not wishing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry over her.

  Then I heard her voice behind me. “Lissa, can I see you in my office, please?”

  I swallowed but the lump in my throat wouldn't shift. I kept my back to her, afraid that if I was forced to look at her the stream of tears I was restraining would flood out.

  “Can't you see I'm busy?” I said, my voice choked up. She must have heard it. I'm about to get fired, I thought. She wanted to tie up the loose ends and get rid of every trace of me from her life. My clothes and belongings were probably burning in a trashcan in her garden right now.

  “I gave you your goddamn space. I want to see you in my office. Now!” She was so loud the whole bar heard her over the music. Everyone turned to look at us.

  What choice did I have but to drop the rag and follow her? After all, she was my boss, even if she was no longer my girlfriend.

  “Don't prolong it, Jean. Just tell me I'm fired so I can get the hell out of here,” I said once we were alone in her office.

  She frowned deep. “What are you talking about, Lissa? I'm not firing you. Why would you think that?”

  “Because you want me out of your life. You've made that clear.”

  Now she looked furious, as though I'd insulted her mother or something. “How can you possibly think that? I love you with every ounce of my being. Have you any idea how hard it's been not seeing you these past couple of days?”

  She was saying all the right things, but she didn't mean any of it. How could she? “So hard that you didn't come find me, huh? That hard? And don't tell
me you didn't know where I was.”

  “I did come and find you.” Her face softened, but the passion never left her voice. “I came both nights. I sat in my car for hours, and then when I finally worked up the courage to get out, I couldn't bring myself to knock the door. I knew you needed space. I didn't want to give it to you, believe me, but I knew I had to.”

  Was that true? She'd come to Petr's to find me?

  “I saw you through the window. You were smoking,” she added, as though reading my thoughts.

  So she was there? I'd taken a few puffs of Petr's joint to make me feel better – my first and last time touching the stuff.

  But this just infuriated me further. “So you stayed out there being a coward and didn't come in to face me?”

  “You needed space.”

  “Don't tell me what I needed!” I snapped. “I needed my girlfriend to fight for me like she gave a damn. Like she meant any of the crap she'd been spewing about loving me.”

  “I meant every word of that,” she snapped back. We were only a few inches apart. Her saccharine scent filled my nostrils, making me yearn for her. My body ached for her touch, her kiss.

  “You know what I think? I think you got bored, just like Robyn and everyone else said you would. Bored with me. Bored with monogamy. Why else would you pretend that my blood made you ill?”

  “Lissa, that's not true.” She clutched onto my arms, giving me a steely-eyed look. “I want to tell you why I reacted that way, I really do. But I can't. Because I'd lose you forever, and I'm not strong enough for that.”

  I wrenched myself from her grip. “You've lost me forever anyway.”

  “You don't mean that.”

  I didn't, of course I didn't. But if she couldn't be honest with me then what hope was there for us? And what truth could be so bad that she would lose me forever over it? I thought this was all a cop-out.

  “I don't know where we go from here,” I said.

  “Come home. Please. I need you.” She took my hand in hers, pressed it to her chest. “My life has no meaning without you in it.”

  My eyes remained locked on hers, reading the sincerity in them. I wanted to believe her but the rejection cut too deep still. I needed more time.