Tree Of Souls (Transfusion Saga #6) - Stephanie Hudson Page 0,66

swept elegantly off to one side. But it was her haunted eyes that concerned me, the way they watched the couple with lost hope in their depths.

Then she said softly,

“The dance ended.” I looked towards the couple and saw them suddenly begin to float away. It was as if their image was caught on the wind and the painting of life had started to fade into the darkness after being dragged away by the elements against them.

“Then dance with me,” I said holding out a hand for her to take, knowing that now it was safe for me to touch her, for it was a dream she controlled. She finally looked up at me and I found myself taken aback by the slight spark of hope I saw there. Then she looked down at my offered hand and took her time in deciding, telling me,

“Can you forgive me for dreaming of you.” I frowned first at her question, wondering in fact if this question wasn’t aimed at herself.

“There is nothing to forgive, for I always want you dreaming of me,” I told her, and it was something in my response that made her place her hand in my own and tell me,

“Then I will forgive myself instead.”

I didn’t like the sound of that but instead of telling her so, I walked her to the centre of the dance floor. After which, the same song the older couple had been dancing to started to sing out around the room. It was our turn.

“Why do you feel like you need to forgive yourself?” I finally asked after a few silent minutes of leading her around the room, to which she answered,

“Because I will suffer for the memory of it tomorrow.” I tensed at this, something she could feel as it seemed to resonate down from my frame and into hers.

“Then why think of me at all?” I snapped making her swallow hard and tell me,

“Maybe I am just addicted to the pain of you.” I tore my face from hers at the agony this brought me and swung her around and then back to me, catching her and holding her against my chest. We seemed lost in the moment and just as I wished to kiss her, she closed her eyes and said,

“Maybe I always have been.” This stopped me in my tracks, and I straightened, before telling her,

“You’re not addicted to pain, Amelia, you’re just running scared from being forced to face the possibility of it finding you.” At this her eyes widened before narrowing as my words obviously started to hit home. Then I swung her around, letting her spin out to the side and as she was held there at the stretched length of our hands holding each other, she looked back at me and said,

“You mean of you finding me.” At this I yanked her hard once more, making her spin back into my chest before gripping a hand at her hip. Then I looked down at her and issued her a promise,

“Oh, make no mistake, my beauty, I will find you and when I do, I won’t bring you pain, I will only bring you truth, one that will make you sorry that you ever ran from me.” At this she yanked herself from my hold and told me,

“I don’t think I like this dream anymore.” I frowned back at her, crossed my arms, and told her,

“Then run from it, after all, it’s clearly what you do best.” At this she looked as if I had slapped her and I nearly cursed my anger. Especially when I was here for the sole purpose of discovering where she was. Instead I was pushing her to do as I expected she would, which was start running from me again. So, the second she turned around and ran towards the door, I growled in frustration, cursing before going after her.

“Fuck! Amelia, wait!” I shouted before running through the vision of the room she had been in and the second I got through the door, it all started to change. Soon I found myself running down a narrow corridor filled with doors, one that continued to branch off, causing me to get lost in the maze. Yet I could hear softly crying and I tried to follow the sound, making me wonder if this was the part of the night where she explained that she couldn’t find her room.

Then finally, when I turned a corner, I saw her at the end.