CHAPTER SIXTEEN | ❝Guilt & Conversations❞
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THE COLD WINDS fluttered past us hastily as we walked towards my dorm. There was a hollow and suffocating silence that enveloped us completely while I bent down to pick my keys that were under the mat.
A strong gush of wind greeted us coldly as I entered my flat, Carter following me closely behind. One of his hands was wrapped gently around my waist while one of mine around his neck - as I supported my weight on him.
My fingers danced over the wall until they landed on the cold plastic outline of the switch. Flicking it on, it took me a moment for my vision to re-adjust to the surroundings of the room. A familiar feeling of serenity washed over me as my hazel orbs wandered over the small pieces of furniture decorated across the room.
This was my home, my real shelter and somehow I felt peaceful here – even if it meant danger from the hunters. My thumbs itched to run across the rough plasters of the wall, which I had suddenly grown much attached to. I wanted to dash towards my bedroom and scoot under the soft and plush duvets – thinking that this was all a fucking nightmare. Thinking that everything would just be the way they were before my life tumbled down the stairs of normality to the cold and hard floor of insanity.
I huffed out hot air when I landed on the ragged plush seat of my couch, my right arm dangling awkwardly in the air as Carter pulled away from me.
My shoulders and limbs felt stiff and my left leg throbbed with excruciating pain as I leaned back on the headrest, my breaths coming in huge gasps.
I scanned the room with my eyes until they settled on the wall clock behind Carter – the time reading one am. My eyes widened. During all the time we spent searching and thinking about Maria, I never realized how late it was until now.
I stifled a yawn when Carter seated himself beside me, the sofa dipping to his side and I had to grip the handle to prevent myself from leaning towards him.
He shifted his weight closer to me, and I could smell the fruity odor of his shampoo mixed with the rough scent of his body sweat. My mouth parted a little when he pulled my injured leg over his lap, one of his warm palms wrapping gently around my ankle while the other one hastily untied the laces.
I wanted to wrench away my leg and maybe even shout profanities at him, but my mind and body felt too tired to respond to his actions. Everything felt so surreal and yet too horrific to be a dream. It looked like my life had turned into a supernatural drama since the last two weeks, and I was left in the middle of a jungle with fucking blindfold on.
My heart trembled when images of Maria, baring her fangs at me flashed through my mind. I didn't know what to think or feel. I was completely torn between feeling devastated for the lives of the three innocent girls and remorseful at how terribly it was going to affect Maria.
The girl who would break out crying even when the neighbor's cat died.
The girl who now killed three of her classmates.
But I couldn't blame her, not when I knew that she had no hand in this. It was me who pulled her into this mess.
I was jostled awake from my thoughts when the cold wind licked the skin of my ankle. I noticed a purple patch forming over it. I traced my eyes upward to see Carter inspecting it closely, his gaze dark and intense.
He looked fatigued as well. His jet black hair was mussed up and the black top was clinging suffocatingly close to his body. His shoulders were stiff and even though the light in the room was bright - it could do nothing to erase the dark shadow covering his face.
"This looks bad," he complained while running his thumb gently over my skin.
"Oh? Thank you for educating me on the most obvious thing Carter," I retorted while trying to ignore the buzz of energy prickling beneath my skin at his touch.
What's wrong with my body?
"You know if you had just consumed my blood-" he started, but I interrupted him by smacking his arm.
"No!" I grimaced, looking up at him horrifyingly.
He rolled his eyes at me. But I could see the corner of his lips tugging upwards slightly at my comment.
"You know I've been doing Martial Arts for a long time," I started while tilting my head to the side, "and I have had worse. So leave it to me, and bring me some ice if you can?" I shrugged with insouciance while removing my leg from his lap.
Surprisingly enough, he didn't protest. Instead, pressing his palms against his knees, he stood up and briskly sauntered over to the refrigerator.
I sighed after seeing his black head disappear behind the maroon door of the fridge. I rested my head back on the headrest of the couch.
My mind was reeling with thousands of questions and I didn't know which one to address first.
An extreme horror and coldness clamped my heart at the realization of what was going to happen next. Maria was going to hate me. She was going to hate me so much for letting her turn into this monster.
For letting her down.
And I couldn't really blame her. I did do that to her. I turned her into a monster and then left her on her own - especially at the time she needed me the most.
And how would I keep lying to everyone? To our friends? To her family? It was easy to manage the girls and teachers in school with Christina's compulsion. But what about her parents?
I couldn't do that to them. Nor tell them what I did to their daughter.
Guilt raced through my veins and I felt myself spiraling downwards.
There was a reason as to why my parents left me.
A reason as to why I was created to destroy the supernatural realm.
A reason as to why everyone I loved ended up getting hurt, or dead.
Because loving me was no less than a curse.
I jerked up slightly when I felt the seat dipping down beside me, Carter's strong scent of masculinity immediately flared up my nostrils.
"Here's the ice- are you crying?" he asked, his eyebrows scrunching up in confusion.
I didn't even realize when a traitorous tear had escaped my eyes and was flowing freely over the fair skin of my cheek. I sat upright.
Through the corner of my eye, I could see Carter reaching out to me. But before his hand could touch my skin, I hastily wiped away the tear.
I gritted my teeth.
I cried in front of someone who wasn't myself.
"Are you okay?" he asked while retracting his hand back awkwardly.
"Yes," I mumbled, not looking at him.
"Here you go," he said as he passed me the bag of ice.
"Thanks."
A shiver erupted in my body as soon as the cold surface of the plastic touched my bruised skin. I bit my lower lip to prevent a hiss from emerging.
My chilled insides warmed a little when Carter didn't speak again. I was thankful for the calm silence that enwrapped us. I didn't know what to say or think right now. Everything seemed like a mess and my brain definitely felt like a puddle.
But I couldn't help but address the doubt that's been nagging me ever since the day Maria was killed.
"Why did they kill Maria?" I asked while glancing at him sideways. "I mean, if they knew where I lived, then why not me? After all, I'm the main game here."
Carter didn't answer me immediately. His vision was fixed on the photo frame over the tabletop, his focus firm and intense - almost as if he trying to pierce a hole through it.
I followed his gaze.
It was a picture of me and Maria during the time when we went to Disneyland. Maria was smiling like an idiot while I kept scowling at the camera for the ridiculous cartoon costumes she made me wear that day.
Unknowingly, my lips lifted upwards at the fond memory, which now seemed to belong to a different lifetime.
"I don't know Hazel." Carter's brooding voice snapped me back to reality. "But it can't be anything good."
"Why?"
"Because the hunters didn't kill her." He revealed.
I gaped at him.
Although, remaining oblivious to my shock, he continued, "If my hunch is correct, it has to be Nathianel."
I waited for him to elaborate but when he didn't, I prodded his arm.
"That was informative," I retorted.
He sighed while leaning backward, his eyes still fixed ahead.
"Nathianel is the head hunter." His voice darkened. "Like my father was."
Something within me softened as I saw the vulnerability flashing across his blue eyes. His breathing was normal but my eyes zoomed in on his clenched fists and I realized how much the memory of his father affected him.
I wanted to know more about him, but I knew that Carter wouldn't be the one to tell me. So instead, I asked, "But how do you know that it's him and not the hunters?"
He turned to look at me, the vulnerability within his eyes now replaced with an untamed storm.
"Because the hunters are bloodthirsty creatures. They wouldn't have kept Maria in one piece." He tilted his head. "Have you forgotten the animal attacks?"
A shiver ran down my spine as the grotesque images flashed behind my eyes. And I couldn't imagine Maria's being in one of them.
"Well, at least Maria got a little lucky." I shrugged.
"I don't think so. If Nathaniel came to do something himself, being lucky is the last thing one would have in mind," he answered absent-mindedly while fingering the loose thread of the couch.
Dread swirled within the pit of my stomach.
"What do you mean?" I prompted.
He looked up, his blue eyes catching mine and I instantly felt the caution behind his gaze.
"They are planning something. Something huge-"
"-and you're afraid that we're playing right into their game," I concluded.
He nodded at me.
A soft yawn escaped my dry lips as my eyelids felt heavy. My shoulders sagged with weariness and I suddenly found it hard to keep my eyes open.
I tried to stand up but my body had plans of its own, as I felt myself plunging downwards. Although before my back could make contact with the soft surface of the couch; I felt a strong grip around my right arm – steadying me into position.
"Geez, you can barely stand. Where's your bedroom?" he asked while standing up behind me.
"I'm fine Carter. Seriously. Just stop with this babysitting." I huffed.
I tried to move but failed due to his death-grip on my arm.
"This would save us a lot of energy if you just let me do it," he scoffed.
I scowled at him.
I didn't want his help. But I knew that I couldn't walk properly and letting him guide me to my room once, would hurt. So biting back a retort, I pulled him clumsily towards my room.
I could feel his scrutinizing gaze sweep over my room as soon as we passed the threshold. But ignoring his judging stare, I walked over to my bed.
I was about to throw myself over it when I remembered that it was unwashed and uncleaned for about two weeks. I scrunched my nose.
There was no way I could sleep on this bed without getting rashes all over my skin the next morning. Hence, emitting a loud groan, I picked up the pillow and threw it on the floor near the opposite wall.
"What are you doing?" Carter asked while coming up to stand beside me.
"What does it look like Einstein?" I asked while pulling the tugged part of the bedsheet.
"No idea."
I turned to glare at him.
"If you can't help, at least keep your mouth shut," I grumbled while he chuckled.
After removing everything from my bed, I grabbed the duster from the drawer of my bedside table.
Carter stared at me weirdly. "You're telling me you're going to sleep on this?"
"Yes. Do I have any other option?" I huffed a breath of relief when I somehow managed to clean up the bed - proper enough to have a good night's sleep.
"Well, it's better than sleeping on those dirty sheets," he droned.
I laid down on the bed and felt it dip a little when Carter seated himself tentatively beside me.
"Won't you shower? You look awful," he asked distastefully.
"Thanks for the concern, but I'm too tired tonight." And as if on cue, a yawn slipped past my lips - as if to prove my statement.
"You're gross. Did I ever tell you that?" he asked.
"And you're an ass. Did I ever tell you that?" I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Multiple times," he replied as an annoying smirk curved the corner of his lips.
Instead of giving him the satisfaction of any reaction, I rolled over to my side. A soft hiss escaped my lips at the sudden shot of pain through my ankle.
"Can you please give me some painkillers? It's in that drawer." I pointed in the direction of the large wooden dressing table.
Carter glanced at me lazily.
"Sure. I'm here to serve you. So, whatever you must say..." he muttered, although I could detect the faint twitching of his lips.
I swore this guy was bipolar!
After an eternity of hearing grumbling and shuffling noises, I felt him walk over to me.
"You have an amazing collection of lingerie I must say," he spoke smugly.
I opened my eyes to find him holding my box of medicines in one hand and a black lacy object in another. My eyes widened and frustration boiled within me as I immediately sprang upright.
"Seriously?" I asked while snatching my bra from his hand.
He shrugged his shoulders while handing me the box.
"What? Don't blame me. I was innocently searching for the box when that thing accidentally slipped under my fingers." He feigned a naive expression while sitting on the bed beside me.
I rolled my eyes at him while carefully tucking the piece of clothing in my bedside drawer.
"Honestly? It's not even funny," I deadpanned. I knew how the bra didn't accidentally slip under his fingers because there was no way I kept my underwear and medicines in the same drawer.
Suddenly, the playfulness vanished from his face and the earlier untamed storm clouded over his erratic irises.
"Yeah. You're right. Nothing about this situation is funny," he mumbled darkly.
After downing the pill with the remaining of the water, I stared at the rugged white plaster of the wall in front of us – a companionable silence enveloping us.
Discreetly, I spared a glance at Carter beside me.
The dim yellow light bounced back on his jet black hair, tinting it a light shade of brown. His jaw was clamped shut and his long fingers were tightly enclosed around the underside of the bed. I could feel the rigidity and anxiety that radiated off him.
This whole situation was troubling him as much as it did to me. But he was just better at hiding it.
"What happens next?" I asked while laying down on the soft sheets.
"I don't know Hazel. Maybe a vampire rehab for Maria," he suggested, quirking an eyebrow at me. Although, his eyes held no trace of playfulness and his voice sounded grave.
"You think everything is a joke, don't you?" I snapped at him.
"You live as long as me then everything would seem hilarious to you too," he retorted.
I remained silent, not wanting to respond to his glib attitude.
"Anyway, where am I sleeping?" he asked while stifling a yawn himself.
"You can sleep in Maria's room. The one right beside mine," I informed him, while laying down.
A look of pure disdain quickly passed his face.
"The one with Barbie stickers and pink door?" His face morphed into a horrifying expression. "No thank you."
I rolled my eyes, which was probably for the millionth time for today.
"Well, then you would have sleep on the couch."
"Or maybe," he laid down beside me, his body so close that I could feel the heat emanating from his body, " I can sleep with you. Here on the bed. It's going to be lovely."
I stared at him, the hazel of my eyes reflecting clearly on his blue orbs as our faces were close. His eyes gleamed mischievously, something intense burning within them. It was surprising to see how the earlier anxiety had quickly faded from his face and instead was replaced with something challenging. His scent flared my nostrils. It was hard not to stare at his face when the yellow light beautifully caressed his skin - making his facial features sharper and at the same time appealing.
My eyes unwantedly landed on the soft shape of his lips, causing them to curve upwards.
I snapped out of my daze and leveled my gaze with him.
"Sounds cute. But no thanks," I smiled mockingly at him.
He grinned.
"You always manage to have a comeback don't you?" he asked while propping himself up on his elbows, his face looming dangerously over mine.
"Yep. Just like how you always manage to be an ass," I retorted while trying to ignore his minty breaths fanning over my face. "I think it comes naturally to both of us."
His chest rumbled with laughter at this and I had to stop the grin from spreading over my face. He pulled himself up from my bed reluctantly and sauntered over to the threshold.
I sighed happily at his departure when he turned his head towards me.
"Good night Hazel," he said, his voice hiding a glint of sincerity.
"Good night Asshole," I replied wearily.
"What a sweet nickname," he drawled in a sing-song voice.
"I know."
His eyes held mine for a moment.
And then he grinned.
"Have sexy dreams about me." He walked away while closing the door behind him.
"Stop pushing your luck." I didn't have to yell, cause I knew he would have no trouble in hearing what I said.
His laugh pierced through the thickness of my door and this time I couldn't help the smile that took over my face. I didn't care. It felt good to let loose for a little while.
But that didn't last long as a familiar darkness washed over me, clamping my heart in a painful suffocation. I dreaded tomorrow's morning. I didn't want to know what it would hold for Maria. Or for me. Or for any of us.
I switched off the light and closed my eyes.
I needed to sleep. But I was pretty sure that it was the last thing that I was going to get tonight.