Survivor - By Kaye Draper Page 0,77
the one to kill her.” He spread his arms in supplication. “Sweetheart, the sun is up. You’ll be covered in blisters. Besides, do you have any idea how difficult hospitals are?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, struggling to keep my calm. “I’ve been doing so well lately.” Then, more forcefully. “You can’t keep me a prisoner here.”
He closed his eyes in a long blink. When he opened them, they were completely silver. His aura wrapped around me like a blanket. I struggled, pulling my own aura up as a shield, but it was no use. He had made me, and everything in me knew he was the boss. I felt my will bend to his. “You are not going.”
Tears leaked down my cheeks as my purse slipped from my fingers. Peter came and gently helped me out of my coat. “I know you hate me right now,” he said quietly, “but I can’t let you risk the lives of everyone in that hospital. You have been doing well. But this is a different situation. You’re upset, and the place will be full of the strongest of human emotions.”
I sat on the couch for a long time. Peter went about the house, tidying up, doing dishes, folding laundry. Hours passed, with my cell phone chiming about every thirty minutes or so. I knew it was my parents. How could I treat my family like this? At first, I was filled with rage. I swore that the moment he released me from this compulsion, I would kill the green-eyed devil who was vacuuming the living room. Taz came by to sniff at me a few times, but he looked weary. He took up a position on the other side of the room, pretending to sleep while he kept his eye on me. Finally, I calmed down enough for Peter to release me.
“You will not leave this house,” he said firmly, adding a bit of compulsion to ensure that I couldn’t.
I clenched my fists in frustration, but nodded. He was right, and I knew it. I had lost my control simply hearing my mother’s voice. How much worse would it be in a building surrounded by people, most of them pumping out pain and fear, sadness and desperation?
Peter’s expression softened and he reached out to hesitantly touch my hair. “I’m sorry.”
I saw the pain in his eyes. He felt like a monster for smothering my will, but he was willing to bear it to protect me and everyone else. I stepped into his hesitant embrace and let him comfort me. “I’ve lost my faith in everything,” I said against his chest. “Last night, I prayed for God to bring only good things my way from now on. Then this happens.” I took a sobbing breath. “Now I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid to hope, afraid to pray. If I ask for something good, something bad might happen.”
My sense of the order of the world- of right and wrong, and fate- was crumbling. I envisioned all of Chelsea’s dreams, all of her potential, washed away in a heartbeat. “This can’t happen,” I said softly. Just when my world had started to make sense.
I lifted my head. “If I can’t go, then will you?” I fisted my hands in the front of his shirt, clinging in sudden hope. “You could heal her.”
He looked down at me sadly and shook his head. “And if I do? Say I manage to go there and feed her my blood. Then what- she miraculously heals and walks away? Don’t you think that might cause some problems?” He was right, of course, we would all be in danger, from humans and vampires alike. “Then there is always the risk that I would turn her. If she is very close to death and I were to heal her at just the right moment…well…”
If she were turned, Chelsea would still lose the life she was meant to lead. I stepped back from Peter. “What would happen if I did it?” My voice was hesitant, scared. “I’m weaker than you, and I’m not even as strong as the typical newbie. What is my blood like?”
His hands slipped to my shoulders and he started into my eyes for a long time. Finally, he seemed to collapse in on himself. “Go read a book or something,” he said tiredly. “You are not leaving this house.”
“If my sister dies, I’ll never forgive you for as long as I live.” I stormed to the bedroom