My Immortal

14. Your Face, it Haunts my Once Pleasant Dreams

14. Your Face, it Haunts my Once Pleasant Dreams

The nightmares that night were horrific.

Scott's chest and abdomen being perforated repeatedly.

Blood spatter.

Whimpering.

Mitch awoke the next morning surprised that he had fallen asleep again at all. He found his mother in the back garden with his father.

Mike looked paler than usual. He looked like he was suffering through his own form of heartache.

Knowing that Mitch had been partially responsible for that pain, because he had brought the man into their lives in the first place, broke his heart.

"I'd like to revive him today."

Nel eyed him with a cautious gaze. "Mitchell..."

"You're not changing my mind. His soul won't rest if we leave him now. That death was far too traumatic."

With one look at this mother, Mitch knew that she realized that he was right.

"He'll only have four days," she said, dejectedly.

"I know," Mitch nearly whimpered. "But maybe his next death will be peaceful." He turned towards the house again and began to walk away before turning to face them again. "I was thinking 5 o'clock this evening? I have some errands to run."

Nel only nodded.

Two men flanked either side of him as he was escorted through the marble doorway.

He eyed them with hatred, trying to remember if either of them had killed the love of his infinite life just one day ago.

They led him to a long hall, with a figure standing at the end. They made their way slowly, and the two men sank to one knee when they were face-to-face with the handsome man before them.

"Our Primus, we have for you... Mitch Grassi."

They turned abruptly and left.

Like cowards.

"Ahh, another Grassi," the voice hissed, almost snake-like. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I'm here to make a deal with you."

The man before him laughed. "Is that so? That doesn't go terribly well for your family, if you can recall."

"I am not my mother. This mortal is not my father."

The Primus laughed again. "No... he most certainly is not."

Mitch's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"You think I sent a bunch of men to kill a mortal without setting eyes on him myself? He's a pretty one. I'll give you that."

Dread filled Mitch again. The idea that the Primus would look at Scott at all was terrifying, but in a way that he had looked at Jessa? It was unfathomable to him.

"So what? I save your little toy, and what do I get?" the Primus asked with a bored tone.

"Let's start here: What do you want?" Mitch asked, cutting straight to the point, ignoring the fact that the Primus had insulted Scott with the term.

"You probably won't like my answer," the Primus teased.

"Try me."

"You're a bold one," the Primus mused, walking in a slow circle around Mitch, who refused to show how utterly terrified he was. "What if my answer is exactly what I'd be saving?"