The Darkest Dream (The Darkest Trilogy) by Michelle Brewer Page B

just before the clouds opened up.
    Everything about him was so vaguely familiar.   It felt as if I’d known him for much longer than the brief few days I’d spent with him.   It felt…
    It felt like he understood me in a way nobody yet had been able to—not even Phe .   As if he understood that there was a part of me that connected to this world of darkness on a level not even I was aware of.  
    I told myself that it made sense to feel that way.   That he’d opened my eyes to all of this, and he was obviously what linked me to it.  
    But I thought again of the look in his eyes…and I wondered once more if there was something he wasn’t telling me.   Something that would explain why I’d always felt different.  
    Or why I felt as if I belonged here.  
    Because as much as I wanted to believe that I felt the way I did because of my feelings for Darren—I couldn’t help but wonder if it was the other way around.   I was drawn to Darren in a way I couldn’t control or explain, and that frightened me.
    The feeling of his eyes staring down at me stirred something within myself and I looked up, catching his gaze.   I realized how unexpectedly close we were, which instantly reminded me of how much he disapproved of our closeness.   “I’m sorry— ”   I apologized, pulling away from him.
    But I was startled to feel his arms snaking around me, pulling me closer to him as he stopped me.
    “No, ”   he protested softly, holding me in my previous position.   I stared up at him, not understanding.   “Just stay.”  
    He didn’t have to ask me twice.   I laid my head back down onto his chest, my palm flat against the fabric of his t-shirt.   I closed my eyes, enjoying the way his hand tangled itself in my hair.  
    I realized then that this was the first time I’d ever done this.   The first time I’d ever laid with a boy, enjoying a moment of quiet intimacy—and it was so easy, I thought.   I was so comfortable here, resting in his arms.
    “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt warmth.”   He spoke after several minutes had passed by and my eyes fluttered open, saddened by the longing in his tone.
    “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to sleep so easily.”   I wanted to attribute it to my being exhausted by the events of the last few days, but I knew myself.   In times of extreme duress, it became much harder for me to sleep—the last several months were a prime example of that.   “So has that been you, then?”
    “Making you sleep?”   I nodded.   “Perhaps, on occasion.”   I nodded again, though I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d put up any resistance whatsoever—if, somehow, my subconscious knew what was happening wasn’t natural.   “It’s much easier when the victim is exhausted.”  
    I bristled slightly at the word victim .
    I wasn’t anybody’s victim.
    “That was a bad choice of word.”   His hand smoothed my hair for a moment and I silently accepted his apology.   “What happened, Lucinda?”  
    “I…I saw the news.”   My voice was very quiet when I finally replied.   I hesitated, waiting for the tears to well up, for the pain to rip through my chest.   But nothing came.  
    “She was murdered.”  
    It was difficult to admit aloud.   That word just seemed so…final.   I knew she was gone—I knew that she was dead.   But the fact that she’d been murdered…and for what?  
    Some stupid vampire myth?   Some old vampire’s need of a friend?  
    I should have been there.   It should have been me.
    The image of her parents and brother clinging to one another flashed before my eyes and I turned my head, trying to run away from it.  
    “Her family…”   I swallowed hard at the ball in my throat.   “They’re worried about me.”   It was the most difficult part to handle—seeing the people who had been such a force in my life mourning the loss of their own daughter and pleading for the life of her best friend.