In the Dark of the Night
1412 Words
Ren’s POV
When Sabrina Stetson breaks into my room that night, it’s not the first, the second, or even the third time; it’s the fourth.
But it’s the only time she’s been armed.
I see the knife as soon as my eyes have opened and focused; it glints in the moonlight, its sharp edge taunting me from the other side of the room. Sabrina’s eyes are the next thing that glint at me—dark and beady, with a crooked, wicked smile to them that almost—almost—spooks me.
It doesn’t, though. I wasn’t lying when I told Nick I’m not scared of Sabrina Stetson. I could take her with my eyes closed.
“Sabrina,” I say, yawning. “We’ve been over this before. I’m not after your boy toy, and he’s not after me. It’s really just a waste of your energy—”
“Shut up,” she snaps sharply, crossing the distance between us in a matter of steps and reaching for my throat with the knife. I catch it with my hand, still not particularly scared. It presses against my skin, but my skin is a lot tougher than hers or a wolf’s; it barely hurts.
“He ended things,” she hisses, voice filled with mania. “Because of you. Ten years, we were together, and he ends things because of a hybrid slut.”
She slashes at me again with the knife, but I draw back with plenty of time to spare. It nicks my arm, but again, it barely breaks the skin.
For the record, I know they weren’t together ten years. On and off, maybe, but mostly off.
“There’s nothing going on between me and Nick, Sabrina,” I say calmly, rising from my bed to stand eye-to-eye with her. “But even if there was, I don’t think it would exactly justify you breaking into my room in the middle of the night with a knife. Why don’t you just—”
But she swipes at me again—harder this time. The blade breaks my skin just under my eye, creating a cut several inches long trailing toward my ear. It still doesn’t hurt much, but it hurts enough to piss me off.
I’m done being calm now.
“First of all,” I say, grabbing her knife hand so hard, I can hear the bones break and the knife clatter to the ground, “I’m not a slut, I’m a virgin. And it’s really just absurdly hypocritical for you to use a word like that, given your own s****l prowess. Have a little respect.”
She cries out in pain, falling to her knees, but I’m not finished yet. She ruined my already unpleasant night, and she’s going to have to deal with the repercussions.
“Secondly,” I say, kicking her hard in the gut, “if Nick broke up with you, it’s probably because he realized you were a soulless, vapid, pathetic witch who he didn’t want to waste another second with.”
It takes a few seconds of coughing and sputtering for her to get her breath back enough to speak, but when she does, she’s glowering at me with a whole new level of hatred.
“He’s not who you think he is,” she hisses. “He’s not a one-woman man. He’ll never be satisfied with you.”
I cross my arms, heaving a sigh. Am I really going to have to hurt her again? “I don’t—”
“He f****d me,” she interrupts. “Even as he was breaking up with me. Threw me against the counter and f****d me, hard. Hate-f****d me. Hurt me.”
Well, I won’t lie—of all the things she’s said to me so far, this part is the hardest to hear.
It shouldn’t be, though. It shouldn’t be a surprise at all. I know who Nick Emerson is. I’ve always known.
“I’m sorry,” I manage through gritted teeth. I don't wish that on anyone--even her.
Off in the distance, I can hear the sound of a door opening and closing—Archer’s, I realize. He heard the commotion. He’ll be here in less than a minute.
“Sorry?” she repeats. She lets out a dry, manic laugh. “It was the hottest s*x of my life, you f*****g prude.”
This girl really has issues.
“But that’s because I’m a vampire,” she finishes. “And vampires belong with vampires.”
Archer comes in then. His eyes widen to twice their normal size when he sees the knife on the ground and the blood on my face, and he dives at Sabrina with a deep, guttural bellow.
I sigh again as I watch him shove her to the ground and yank her arms behind her back. This is entirely unnecessary, and way over-the-top. But I’ll let him feel like the hero if it makes him happy.
“Are you okay?” he asks me urgently as he pulls out his phone and dials a number.
“I’m fine,” I say easily as he presses the phone to his ear. I wonder who he’s calling. I don’t particularly care. I wouldn’t mind if this b***h got locked up, frankly.
“Yeah, it’s a f*****g emergency. Your f*****g stepson’s girlfriend attacked Ren!”
Damn. I didn’t know he had Vance Eaton’s number. How did that happen?
About twenty vampires show up in a matter of minutes, along with Margery and a handful of Crescent wolves from my guard. They cuff Sabrina before taking her away, then start laying into me with questions. After about ten minutes, I’ve had enough.
“Vance,” I say sharply.
All the voices in the room fall silent, and my biological uncle leaves his conversation by the door to come to me. “Yes?”
“I’m tired,” I tell him. “I want to go to bed.”
He nods. There’s pain in his eyes—real pain, I think. Vance loves me—at least, he thinks he does. I remind him of his fallen brother, for better and for worse. “Of course. I’m so, deeply sorry about this, Ren. Believe me when I tell you she will be punished severely.”
I shrug. “Fine by me. Just don’t kill her. I don’t want that on my conscience.”
He bows his head again, then gestures for everyone to follow him out.
My own crew makes there way out, too, one by one, until it’s just me, Margery, and Archer.
“You sure you’re okay?” Margery asks me, reaching out to touch the dried blood on my face. “I can stay if you want.”
“I’m sure.” I smile at her as best I can. “Thanks.”
And then there were two.
“I should have been here sooner,” Archer tells me. I see the same pain in his eyes that I saw in Vance’s. “I can’t believe I didn’t hear you… or sense it.”
Sense it? Come on. “Archer, it really wasn’t a big deal. She’s nothing.”
His eyes linger on the blood on my face, and I realize that, to him, it was a big deal. A very big one.
I find that sentiment a bit too touching.
“Let me stay with you,” he says softly. “I won’t sleep in the bed. I won’t bother you. Just… let me protect you.”
I shouldn’t say yes, but frankly, I’m too tired to object.
- Writer
