Page 77 of Potion of Deception (Potion of Deception #1)

SOME THINGS DON’T CHANGE

D ante entered the grotto once again. The air didn't seem this thick the first time, it was becoming heavier with each step.

He didn't notice how he was already standing before the pedestal with gloves, his thoughts were occupied by another event.

His gaze fell onto the box, the hesitation veiled his eyes – Violette's face once again fleeted in his mind before his hands leisurely lifted the case.

He remembered the feeling of release when he took off the mask last time but it still brought him pleasure to freely work his jaw.

He stretched his mouth but as he wanted to open it wider, his head flinched and his fingers trembled.

The memory of what he did the first time raised the goosebumps over his arms and lodged the chill inside.

The mask fell inside the chest when the sudden sharp sound entered the space.

“So you did it after all,” a voice, the cracking sound slicing between the bones, evoking only disgust in Dante’s soul every time he heard it – Nigel.

Dante's eyelids dropped for a few seconds, cursing the powers which brought him here.

“I think I’d already said that you're not a welcome guest here,” he grumbled.

“As if I'm listening to you.” Nigel's lips slanted in a wry smile .

Dante speared him with an icy look over his shoulder as he slowly turned around.

His fingers started taking off the gloves. “Will you report to Caidas?”

“In any case, he'll find out when rumors and news about mysterious brutal murders spread throughout the cities.”

Nigel's careless tone full of amusement caused a look of absolute hatred on his face.

And yet that wasn't what was bothering him right now.

His thoughts were with the girl with the dark brown hair and blue-gray eyes full of stars which he brought to tears.

At least, it's better for her to cry than be dead.

He didn't regret his decision even if he broke her heart, even if it was breaking him too.

“Did you leave your girlfriend?” Nigel leaned over the wall, crossing hands over his chest.

“You know, it would be nice if you minded your own business…if there was any, of course. Sorry, I forgot that you don't have your own life. That's why you keep your nose in others’.” Dante turned to the chest to close it from snoopy hands.

“Okay, I'll go do my business, otherwise I'd be late – your little pet detained me. Did I mention we met?” He gritted his teeth in a shameless grin.

Unhidden indignation and concern embraced Dante's face. His brows pulled closer, a line creaking between them. Perplexing feelings filled his lungs .

“What have you done?” he breathed, his voice deepened.

“Nothing she wouldn't like if she really enjoyed the company of a vampire.” Nigel flashed his snow-white teeth again.

Dante’s stomach churned. A high-pitched aggravating sound that drowned out any other thoughts rang in his ears. The nightmare on his face seemed too real to suggest that Violette really meant nothing to him.

Spinning on his heels, he left the grotto before Nigel could say anything else – he'll deal with him later. Finding Violette was more important, he didn't send her away to di– No!

The snowflakes were calmly falling on the already white surface as if it were an ordinary winter morning. As if nature had no idea what had happened here before and what was happening now.

Dante’s eyes fell to the ground – her footprints were barely visible, the snow had managed to already powder them. He just hoped she didn't go far.

The pulse was throbbing in his temples, a sludge of dread in his chest, as he searched between the marble graves and crypts for a sign of her presence.

He crossed half of the cemetery, but the girl was still nowhere to be seen. A panic began to creep into his consciousness, which he vigorously tried to muffle: he couldn't let himself lose his head now, he had to find her…she had to be okay, she couldn't–A quiet groan reached his ear .

He turned quickly.

“Violette!” Dante exclaimed, hurrying to her.

She was sitting on the ground, leaning against a large stone grave. Snow dusted her hair and her lashes. Her dull gaze raised to the vampire. She seemed so small and miserable, as if life had been sucked out of her, but she was still breathing, she was alive .

“Dante…” Violette breathed in a heavy voice, trying to move, but her body gave up on her.

He scurried to her and crouched down, his hand carefully straightening the lock of her dark hair back, revealing fresh marks from fangs between dried blood under her jaw.

His worried gaze shifted to her face. She was breathing, her heart was beating, although slower than usual, but she was not dying, only deprived of energy.

It also didn't look like she was infected with the vampire venom.

He'd never forgive himself if she turned into a vampire. A breath of relief left his mouth.

“You got rid of the mask,” Violette nearly whispered with a drained voice. “You have a pretty face…” She scarcely understood what she was saying but it didn't mean she hadn't thought so.

She looked half asleep, half delirious. Her breath came out in a heavy and labored way, short exhalations kept releasing into the air.

Dante’s forehead wrinkled as her eyelids fell and a deep sigh slipped from her pale lips. He touched her cheeks – absolutely icy, lacking their color. Falling snow had accumulated on her clothes. His fingers immediately reached to the buttons on his coat and he threw it over her cold shoulders.

“You need to warm up,” his gentle voice caressed her ear, “and rest.”

“No…I don't,” she squeezed hoarsely.

She was even able to raise her hand, however she didn't have enough strength to even touch him, nor to push him away.

He caught her as she began to slide off the stone wall into the snow.

And he felt very warm – she didn't remember when he'd been so warm, even hot.

He reminded her of a warm fireplace, but that didn't change the fact that she didn't want to lie in his arms, no matter how hot and cozy they were.

He sent her away, said a lot of rude things to her.

He behaved like a brute. It was his fault she was freezing now, deprived of vitality.

It seemed as if life was slipping away through her fingers, and she tried to cling to it, but it was burdensome.

The cold made her eyelids even heavier; she wanted to sleep so badly.

Just close her eyes and fall asleep. And if she is lucky – everything that happened turns out to be just a dream.

And it will all disappear the next time she opens her eyes. If she will open them again.

“Put me down…I don't want to die in your arms,” she whispered.

“You're not dying, Little Witch,” the vampire said tenderly, and tucked her in his coat. His voice sounded as sweet as a lullaby, making her eyes even harder to keep open .

Violette didn't believe his words, she couldn't help but die – the weight of exhaustion was unbearable, lodging itself deep in her bones.

She couldn't feel her hands and legs, and her mind was wandering in the hazy fog.

It felt like soon all of it would turn into a blank page.

She should have been angry at Dante or felt upset, but she didn't even feel that, all she wanted to do was to close her eyes. Forevermore.

You're such a liar, she wanted to say but instead of words her mouth let out some unclear burble.

“Everything will be alright.” Dante scooped her in his arms, his fingers brushed her hair away from her face and shook off the snow.

“I hate you,” she slurred very quietly against his chest, her eyes drifting shut. “I hate you so much…”

He didn't say anything as she whispered her last words before falling asleep. He knew he deserved it. She should have hated him after everything he did, especially after what he did when she went into the grotto with him the first time. He hated himself not less, if not more.