Page 61 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

CHAPTER 10

Time didn’t pass by unnoticed, it beat over Delilah like a river’s tide, shaping her and stripping stains of experience with relentless force. Every gentle lapping stole a piece of her, smoothing her abrasive edges. It didn’t hurt as much as she’d expected. It just happened, whether she wanted it to or not.

Inevitable. Christian had claimed it would be so, but she hadn’t believed him. She didn’t trust him. Yet here she was, adapting and accepting these changes with baffling calm.

Her anger was at odds with the overwhelming threat of acceptance. While she clung to a disgruntled need for retaliation and revenge, another part of her seemed centered and at peace with what was happening.

The new version of herself seemed…cleaner, sharper, healthier, and, for all of those reasons, unrecognizable.

“Ladybug, ladybug, fly away…” she whispered, turning her hand in a golden ray of the setting sun. The small tattoo on her finger was fading at a concerning rate.

The details had vanished leaving a slight blemish on her knuckle. Compared to what it was a day ago, the darkened smear worried her. How many tattoos would she lose? She was afraid to look at her body too closely, afraid she was fading away, disappearing into the ether of time and losing her individuality.

If her identity washed away, would all traces of her existence eventually follow? The permanence of her world didn’t matter here. There were powers at play she couldn’t comprehend and rules she broke without trying.

Her mind was a mess of chaos, endless spinning vortexes of confusion followed by too many stormy emotions to decipher. She only knew she wasn’t happy.

Time alone helped. She needed time to process, and there was so much to digest, she wanted to think things through on her own. Sitting in the privacy of Christian’s bedroom, unsure where he’d gone or how long he’d be, she looked at his hat, forgotten on the floor.

Nothing—in terms of possibilities—seemed off the table at this point. Holding her hand out, palm facing the hat, she opened her fingers and held her breath, forcing her energy into her arm, directing all her focus at the crushed hat lying on the floor.

It didn’t move.

Disappointed, she blew out a breath. No Jedi mind tricks.

She glanced at the door, anticipating his return when she heard a distant creek in the foundation of the house. Perhaps part of her even yearned for his presence, but that couldn’t be. She hated him. She was here because of what he’d done to her. He was her enemy.

Her emotions were stronger than usual yet harder to read than ever before. She despised him for doing this to her, yet she recognized a strange connection to him, potent and overwhelming. Her instincts goaded her to trust him, but her mind could not accept what he’d done.

And her heart? The ache was still too tender to evaluate. When she considered all he stole and everything she’d lose because of his selfish actions, the heartbreak consumed her. But just as that overwhelming moment of despair set in, so did unfamiliar relief. Her debt would not follow her here. This could be a fresh start. A do over. Or was it? Was this how anyone would ask to start over? Confusing hope remained tucked away, hidden beneath all the resentment and anger.

She could not possibly harbor gratitude for him, could she? He did this to her, yet some part of her believed she was safe with him, safer than she’d ever been on her own. It made no sense. She preferred to hate him.

Visions of his beautiful face played in her mind, aggravating and thrilling her. Her belly tightened and her eyes narrowed, irritated by her memories of the possessive way he rocked into her earlier that day.

He intended to prove his virility. He had, and now she was deeply torn between attraction and revulsion. Pride forbade her to go easily into the night. She couldn’t come this far only to surrender to a man who abducted her and held her against her will.

Yet something baited her to trust him and let him lead. It was an unfamiliar and inexplicable instinct. A complication.

Her mind was changing and that frightened her more than the undeniable evolution taking place throughout her body. Her body was just the packaging. If she lost her mind, she lost all of herself.

Was she losing her mind? What if none of this was real and she was tied up in a padded room and straightjacket somewhere?

Her brain tested every theory from Christian’s explanations of legends and fables to the possibility of alternate dimensions. But there was no way of telling which version of the truth was her actual reality.

The sheer volume of new information she needed to process paralyzed her. Incidentally, the overwhelming carnal memories of his body buried inside of hers invigorated her with energy. The itch to have him again burned like a fiery rage, one that grew hotter and hotter with each passing hour.