Innocently Evil (A Kitty Bloom Novel) (12 page)

I felt his hand slip slightly lower and again I tr
ied to struggle free, but my squirming only seemed to please him and his grin widened. “Tell me,” he said, looking deep into my eyes, “will you cry when I kill your angel?”

I stopped struggling and glared at him. He’d kill Sam over my dead body. But somewhere,
deep inside of me, that half of me I’d been trying to ignore, howled in fury. It believed everything would be better if Sam was dead. It wanted, no needed everything good out of my life. And it screamed for Max to save me.

I shook the thought out of my head, but it was too late. By the look on his face, Max had already seen his answer in my eyes.

“I knew it,” he whispered.

His look of satisfaction chilled me and brought forth a protective anger that I hadn’t
realized I had. With the little movement I had, I raised my knee hard and fast into his groin. Max’s body buckled over slightly and his hand slipped from its tight hold around my mouth.

“Sam,” I screamed.

“Bitch,” Max groaned.

I almost managed to struggle free, but Max regained his strength in seconds and moved quickly to hold me back in place. Just as his hand had wrapped itself over my mouth again, the bedroom door swung open with a mighty force and Max and I were thrown onto the floor.

“Kitty,” I heard Sam yell as footsteps pounded into the room.

I crawled up onto my hands and knees, about to stand up and face him, when a strong arm grabbed me around the waist.

“Don’t even think about it,” Max said, but I couldn’t tell to who
m.

I was lifted to my feet in an instant and my body was dragged backwards until it slammed hard against Max’s chest. He held m
e in front of him like a shield, one arm tight around my waist and the other against my throat. I looked across the room to where Sam had stopped dead, just a few steps inside the door. His face was pained, but his stance was strong and the gun in his hands was pointed straight at Max and me.

“Let her go,” Sam said, firmly.

Max just laughed at him and rested his face softly against mine. “So, you’re the guardian angel,” Max chuckled. “You’re not doing a very good job at guarding, are you?”

Sam’s face turned hard and his voice deepened.
“Let—her—go,” he said, menacingly.

“Ooo
h, scary,” Max said, sarcastically. “Geez, Sam. Kitty scares me more than you.”

Sam glared at Max and took a step closer to us.

“Uh-uh,” Max said, now almost nuzzling my neck. “Come too close and Kitty’s pretty little neck will get bitten. And you don’t want that, do you?”

“No,” I said. “A
nd I don’t want to be shot either.” As fast as I could, I raised my foot up and tried to smash my heel hard into Max’s right shin. Unfortunately for me, it seemed to have no effect on him except to make his hold on me much tighter.

“That wasn’t smart,” Max whispered into my ear.

“Don’t try to help me, Kitty,” Sam said, now ordering me from across the room.

I sighed in frust
ration. I just wanted out of this whole situation. The boys could fight it out amongst themselves for all I cared. I looked back at Sam, who was still pointing the gun directly at us, and I hoped that he knew what he was doing.

“I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Max said, smugly.

“You were never welcome,” Sam snarled.

Max rubbed his cheek lightly against mine again and held my body tight
ly against his in a more affectionate position. “Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Sam,” he said.

I watched Sam’s eyes narrow fiercely as I felt Max’s lips touch my cheek. I tried to pull my face away, but couldn’t.

“Sweet dreams, Kitty cat,” Max whispered into my ear.

Suddenly, the firmness of Max’s body behind me was gone and I stumbled
backwards in surprise. A loud gunshot pierced the silence of the room and I heard Max groan in agony from somewhere in front of me as a hot, wet substance burst across the side of my face. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the ringing echo, and then I touched my fingers to my chin. A warm liquid smeared across my fingertips and I brought my hand down to look at it. I licked my lips. It was blood.

Nine:
A Taste of Max

I woke up with my senses heightened, but not everything was clear. I was in Sam’s arms, sitting on the cold tile floor of the shower with warm water raining slowly and softly down onto my face. The sound of the water falling on the hard tiles created a droning hum that vibrated against my skin. Beneath me, the icy floor sent shivers through my limbs and became spongy with my weight, threatening to collapse under me. In the distance, as though he were miles away, I could hear Sam repeating a mantra.

“Come b
ack to me, Kitty,” he whispered. “Come back to me.” His voice pounded against the inside of my skull, echoing and reverberating off every inch of me. His body, wrapped firmly and affectionately around me, felt suffocatingly tight at one moment and barely there the next.

I tried to lift my head, from where it hung loosely beside Sam’s, but it was too heavy and a smothering darkness began to engulf my vision. Defeated and confused, I relaxed my body against the distant feeling of Sam’s. My vision focused on the floor and I watched as pink stained water scurried down the drain. I remembered the blood.

“Wh—where’s Max,” I coughed almost silently. My voice, husky though it was, rang in my ears and stabbed at my temples.

Sam’s body froze tight around me and t
hen I felt him lean away. The warm hum of water stopped and my ears praised the silence. Sam’s body wrapped around mine again and he moved me slightly to look at me.

I looked up at his quivering violet eyes and forced a small smile.
“Hi,” I breathed.

“Hi,” he answered in a relieved sigh.
His fingertips touched my forehead and he stroked my hair behind my ear. That small touch filled my body with adrenalin and my heart began to race. Suddenly, I needed to get away from him. Sam must have seen something in my eyes and his grip tightened. “No, Kitty,” he said, with obvious fear in his eyes. “Focus and breathe. It’s Max’s blood doing this to you.”

My insides scr
eamed at me to get away, but I knew in my mind that Sam was right. It had been Max’s blood on my face and on my lips. Sam had shot Max.

Instinctively my breathing increased rapidly and blood pounded in my ears. “Max,” I heard myself whisper.
I had to get away from here, away from Sam. I had to know if Max was okay. I struggled against Sam, but he held me closer.

“No,” he said, sternly. “B
reathe. Breathe, Kitty. Everything’s all right. You’re safe. Breathe.”

I knew Sam was right, but a part of me didn’t believe him and knew that he was wrong.
Max wasn’t all right and I couldn’t be all right without Max. I fought against the strength of Sam’s arms holding me tight. I needed to get free, to find Max. I needed to know if he was okay.

`
“Kitty,” I heard Sam whisper in my ear. “Please.”

I knew that I was losing the battle. The side of me that wanted to escape and be with Max was getting stronger with every second and each rational thought I had about being safer with Sam became deluded with doubt and confusion.
As my body fought fiercely against Sam, I managed to catch his dark, violet eyes starring anxiously into mine.

With my last sane thought I reached out to him.
“Help,” I whimpered, while my body thrashed against his.

Sam frowned down at me, painful concern making his youthful features seem tense and drawn. Suddenly his hand was on my forehead, while his other hand held my arms tight and still against my body. He held me close to him. My back was hard against his chest and my face angled towards his. I could feel his warm breath on my skin as his eyes searched for answers in mine.

“Forgive me,” he said and leaned closer.

I felt his lips flutter lightly across mine and my eyelids got heavy.

T
hen, I was falling. Darkness clouded my vision and fear made my heart rate quicken. There was nothing around me, nothing above and nothing below. Just darkness. But, I was still falling and with every fall there has to be a landing. That scared me the most. Suddenly, a bright, white light blinded me and the falling stopped.

When I opened my eyes again, I was no longer surrounded by nothingness.
Directly up from where I lay, I could see stars twinkling brightly in the jet, black sky. Millions and millions of them blinked down at me from the clear and moonless night. I had never seen so many. With a deep breath, I ignored their beauty and glanced around me, turning my head from side to side on the ground.

I was lying on a pale blue blanket, on a soft grassy area, in a place that I didn’t
recognize. A heavy mist surrounded the clear space around me, but I could still make out the rich greenery of the forest through its smoky tendrils. I seemed to be in some sort of clearing in the woods. I forced myself to sit up and have a better look around me. The dark, fog-filled forest trapped me in from every side, but I wasn’t scared. In the crisp silence of night, I could hear the nocturnal animals scratching, screeching and rustling around, and it seemed to calm me. I pushed myself off the ground to stand up and, suddenly, I noticed what I was wearing. A long, white chemise clung tightly to my chest and then hung loosely, flowing in the light breeze, from my waist down. And I realized—I was in a dream.

Footsteps crunching through the forest in front of me startled me from my thoughts. I peered nervously through the thick, grey mist and searched the shadows of the forest for a figure. A tall, elegantly dressed man stepped from the dark foliage with his
black, top hat pulled low over his eyes. He was dressed as though he’d stepped straight from the early eighteen hundreds. He wore knee-high, black riding boots over cream trousers, a scarlet waistcoat over a white ruffled shirt with a white cravat and a long, black coat. As he strode over to me, I began to see his features more clearly. It was Max.

He stopped in front of me, raised his hat slightly and smiled.
“Boo,” he grinned.

“You’re okay,” I said, surprised.

He raised an eyebrow at me and frowned. “I take it you would have been happier if your boyfriend had killed me,” he answered almost scornfully.

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head.
I realized what I’d said and coughed, then tried to correct myself. “Sam’s not my boyfriend, but he—shot you,” I said, still hearing the concern in my voice and hating it.

Max gave me an arrogant grin and pointed to himself.
“Vampire,” he said. “Remember.” He dropped his hand and crossed his arms. “Besides,” he continued, beginning to circle me, “this is a dream. Had I really wanted to, I could have come to you like this.”

Max stopped at my
side and I watched as the snow white cravat around his neck began to bulge red with blood. The thick, dark scarlet liquid flowed down his chest, turning his pure white, ruffled shirt to red. It didn’t stop until the whole left side of his chest was stuck slick to his body with crimson fluid. His skin was pale and drawn tight over his bones as he reached a hand up to his neck and pulled down the cravat to show me his wound. A large, fleshy hole had been torn straight through his left jugular. Blood spurted violently from the open gash, continuing to pour down his body, as he stared at me with sunken, amber eyes.

He raised his now thin, white lips and bared his teeth at me in
what was more of a snarl than a smile. “Somehow, the reality of the situation just isn’t as attractive as the dream,” he whispered, in a raspy voice curdled by blood.

I looked at the sadness in his large, hollowed eyes and I
couldn’t help but pity him. A part of me never wanted Max to die and never would. That part just couldn’t imagine my life being all it was supposed to be without Max in it. Tears began to pool in the corner of my eyes and I had to glance away from him and close my eyes tight to stop them.

When I looked up again Max was back to normal. His skin
had returned to its caramel brown perfection, his clothes were pristine and elegant once more, and there was not a drop of blood to be seen. His eyes were lowered and narrowed, and his jaw was clenched tight. I took a step towards him and reached a hand out to him before I could stop myself.

Max hit my hand gently
with his own and stepped away from me. “Your tears are wasted on me, Kitty,” he said, still refusing to look at me. “And so is your pity.”

A sharp pain stabbed deep into my heart at his words and I tried hard to ignore it.

Max looked out into the misty forest and crossed his arms. “It’s funny to me that I know everything you are supposed to be and become,” he said, “and yet you surprise me.”