They Rise at Dusk (Book #1) ✔️

Chapter 36: Black on White

A distinct dichotomy formed within me. He shouldn't have asked that question. I desperately wanted to hear that question. I hated the offer, and I craved it. Either way, I couldn't turn around because I knew he'd read me like an open book.

"I should go home."

My voice was weak.

Dorian approached me, his footsteps muffled against the carpet.

"Maybe I don't want to work with a weak vampire." He said, his voice too near my ear.

I relaxed into that sound, letting it reverberate through me, break down my barriers. My resolve was fragile, thin, and translucent, and all it took was a whisper against my ear to melt it into nothing.

"I know what you're doing." Dorian said, and I felt the warmth of his body right behind me.

My heartbeat quickened.

"What am I doing?" I breathed.

"You're trying to suffocate your vampire side." He spoke the truth with more determination than I could muster in any of my lies. "And I know it's because that side is what Elena was trying to emulate and it got her killed."

"Dorian." I cut him off immediately. "I'm not going to talk about that."

"About what?" He asked. "How you've been telling people that Elena went out that night with me because she was trying to be more like me, when in fact, she was trying to be more like you?"

"It's not my fault!" I spun around, remembering too late he was standing too close to me.

His dark blue eyes found mine. I shot daggers right at him, but all those daggers hit was murky gentleness behind his irises. Deep, liquid sadness adorned the darkest blue around his pupils.

"It's not your fault." He repeated, his voice soft and quiet. "I should have been there."

I took in a breath and leaned against the door, needing to step away from him to get some air into my lungs. His presence overwhelmed me, and I felt cornered. I spent years running away from him, but he always caught up.

"I know you think your vampire side killed Elena." He continued mercilessly hitting at my walls. "But you need that side back, Odette. You need it if you want to save Lucia."

Deep down, I knew he was right. I was weak. The only reason why I survived the car crash with Jax was because Dorian made me drink blood at the ball. If I wanted to fight my brother, or worse – my father, I needed my strength back. There was nothing complicated about it, nothing questionable, or unclear, but I still felt like I was betraying her.

I pushed past Dorian back to the middle of the room, needing to move away from the scrutiny in his eyes and the corner he had me in. Feeling wobbly and anxious, I poured myself another drink. Then downed it. The taste first burned my tongue and gums, then slid down my throat, leaving a numbing trail. As I poured myself another drink, Dorian approached the wooden table, scanning me with curiosity.

After four glasses of the clear liquor, alcohol began to work its magic. My thoughts clouded, and my soul began detaching itself from my body. All the lies I concocted slowly broke apart, leaving nothing but burning, vicious truth. Anxiety, which usually would have stopped me, now urged me to speak. I wanted to get to the bottom of this. I wanted everything out in the open.

"Drink." I commanded, pushing a glass in his hand.

Dorian's jaw tensed for a second before he spoke, "You don't want me drunk around you."

"Why not?" I urged, still holding the glass for him. "What are you afraid of?"

He just stood there; his expression harsh, every facial bone protruding, muscles tense.