It was in this house that I had first confessed my love to S.
It was in this house that I had watched him die.
Trembling, I burrowed my face further into my coat, inhaling the unique, pine scent I had come to associate with Lupe. I hadn’t even realized I had stolen his coat until I was already in town. Not that he would mind.
“What are you looking at?” a voice whispered in my ear, and I screamed, spinning with my hands raised.
A Vampire stood inches from me, hot breath fanning my face. He had short brown hair and a handsome, chiseled face.
I recognized him. The Vampire who I had dreamt about. The Vampire who had crawled into my bed with me.
The Vampire I had allowed to crawl into my bed with me.
From what little I gathered from the other princes, this was my mate. Jax.
But of course, we had never been properly introduced.
He stared at me as intensely as I stared at him.
“It tingles,” he whispered hoarsely, scratching at his arm.
I raised my brow before understanding dawned. According to lore, when a Vampire met his mate, his skin began to itch. It was what happened to Mali when she had first come into contact with Atta...and Zack.
“It tingles. My blood tingles like fairies spelled me. Why won’t it stop?” Almost absently, his nails dug into his skin, hard enough to draw blood. It was only then that I noticed the numerous scars adorning his pale arm.
Did he do that to himself?
Horror filled me, immediately dissipating any ill-feelings or fears I felt towards the Vampire. I grabbed at his hand, the one scratching his skin, and held it between both of mine.
“Stop that!” I demanded.
He froze, muscles contracting, before his eyes met mine. They were alight with wonder and awe. Reverence. All of which I didn’t deserve.
“Z?” he croaked. As if he couldn’t help himself, he reached with his free hand and brushed at my mane of curls. It took him a few tries - his hand kept shaking - before he was able to push one of my golden tresses behind my ear.
“Jax?” I said his name hesitantly. For the first time I had known him, there was coherence in his eyes. It was as if the pieces to the puzzle clicked. He stared at me as if I held all the answers to his questions, as if I was shrouded in a golden light.
Instantly, self-consciousness filled me, and I stepped away.
The coherence disappeared from his eyes immediately, and he too stepped back.
“I have five fingers on one hand. Four on the other. Five plus four equals nine. And nine is the number. I heard the devils talking. Five plus four equals nine. Nine fingers. We need nine fingers,” he rambled, pulling at his hair. His eyes flitted from my face, to my shoes, to the building behind me, before resting once more on me. This time, he didn’t meet my eyes. He seemed to be looking anywhere but.
When his eyes lowered to my cleavage, I knew he didn’t mean it as sexual. He was just desperate for something, anything, to stare at.
What the hell happened to him?
“The voices keep talking. And talking. And talking.” In a blur of movements, he whacked his closed fist against his head. “Stupid. They call me stupid. But I need them to stop.”
Tears welled in his eyes, and he finally met my gaze pleadingly. “Please make it stop.”
We were garnering attention from the humans - and the few Nightmares - scattered about. Frowning, I gripped Jax’s hand and pulled him into the house. As I stepped over the threshold, taking in the furnitureless room and peeling wallpaper, the memories didn’t bombard me as they once would’ve. They would no doubt come in time, but right then, I needed to focus on Jax.
He had stopped babbling and now followed me wordlessly into a room that once served as a living room. There was only one window, facing the alleyway, so I didn’t have to be afraid we would be looked in on. Surprisingly, the ugly floral couch S had bought still sat in the center of the room, collecting dust on the silver tarp. I had thought for sure it would’ve been stolen or destroyed.
Releasing Jax’s hand, I removed the tarp, coughing at the onslaught of dust particles hanging stagnant in the air.
“Sit,” I instructed Jax. He muttered something under his breath - something about toenails - before tentatively perching himself on the edge of the couch. He held himself rigid, back straight, as if he feared what his proximity would do to me. I appreciated his consideration.
There was no denying I was still wary around Nightmares.
“Um…” What does one say to an obviously crazed Vampire? I couldn’t just damn well ask if he wanted a refreshment.
The thought made me snort out a laugh. I pictured myself bleeding over a coffee cup, a serene smile on my face as I discussed mundane things like the weather with the crowned prince of Vampires.
“The voices whisper,” Jax said urgently. He shifted closer, his knee a hair’s breadth away.
“The voices?” I asked slowly.
One thing was becoming abundantly clear: Jax needed help. More help than someone like me, a mere human with no substantial knowledge of the Nightmare World, could give him.
“Nine fingers. Five fingers plus four fingers equals nine fingers.”
“Jax,” I said soothingly. I was momentarily startled by my own voice. When had I ever sounded that...loving? “I don’t understand what you’re saying. You have ten fingers. See?” I took his hand, absently stroking each finger. Once I reached the tenth, I dropped his hand.
He let out a grunt of impatience.
Speaking slowly, deliberately, as if talking to a child, he repeated, “Five plus four equals nine.”
He reached for my hand once more, and I let him, mentally reveling in how small
