Chapter Text
Quinn fought like he kissed.
Sharp and hard and close, never leaving any distance for the other to retreat.
“Don’t run from me, Lamb.”
His lips peeled back and the next thing she knew, his fang was slicing through the right side of her lip. Quinn's rough, lustful rasp burned over her quick inhale of shock. Nails dug into the back of her arms.
She hated that little nickname he had for her. He’d picked it specifically to piss her off in a fight. But the more nights she’d spent sharing a van with him, the more she’d helped with breaking motel locks, the more she sparred with him in parking lots, the more of her blood that had slid down his throat, the more Lamb scrambled to remember why she wanted all this.
Because…
Because Quinn cared.
He cared enough to bite and strike and kiss and live with her.
She hadn’t ever let anyone else close enough but him. Cracked open a door for Quinn that she kept closed for anyone else that knocked.
The vampire had forced himself the rest of the way. And after a year of this kind of life, at times like tonight, when all he demanded was her…
Lamb was all she knew how to be.
Lamb was the only person she’d ever been where she’d felt wanted.
So when his fang pierced through her lip with a lustful growl, Lamb submitted.
And she hated herself for it. Hated that she didn’t growl anymore like how she used to. The happiness and excitement was hollow now.
Quinn curled his fingers in the back of her hair, forcing Lamb’s face up. Blood trickled down gasping lips.
The wet warmth of his tongue dragged below her mouth. His laughter made her jaw buzz. Lamb flexed her fingers in his shirt, trying to keep up with him. Tried to angle her neck with the sharp push of his face into her’s. Tried to ignore the widening split of the wound he’d carved into her lips. It stung. Lamb scrunched her eyes, fighting the instinct to protect herself from pain.
Pain meant she was feeling something. And that was better than nothing. Right? Lamb tried to shake herself clear of any doubt. If she did what she used to, then Quinn wouldn’t want her.
If she tried any of the things she knew he didn’t like, Quinn would ignore her.
And that might just slaughter her.
But it stung, like his mouth was full of salt and electricity raking out more blood. Quinn pulled at her mouth, sucking hard until the pinch split and more of her gushed into his chuckle. Lamb grabbed at his jacket, fist curling into the leather. A warning growl slithered up her throat.
“My little lamb…” Quinn chided, shoving her against the wall.
Quinn kissed like he fought. With teeth. More teeth. More tearing in her mouth. More copper staining the inside of her nose. It was so dark behind her eyes, but Lamb realized she was too scared to see with what little light she had.
It was safer in the dark. She knew what the dark felt like.
Quinn dug his nails into her cheek and chin, grabbing her and yanking one leg up and around his waist. Lamb kicked her other foot, scrambling for the ground. The back of her head smacked against the wall.
“I know you like it rough.” Quinn hummed. He clawed his other hand up the side of her shirt and down her ribs.
Were they kissing or fighting?
Quinn fought like he kissed. Did it matter?
No. She liked it rough. Lamb liked it rough.
Right?
No, no that was right. The gashes and nicks in her lips were splintering, stabbing the sensitive areas of her face.
She liked it rough once. Rough wasn’t nothing. Rough was something. But it was a kind of something that was tasting more and more bitter in her mouth by the second.
“Hold…hold on…” She bared teeth. “Wait…”
“Let’s do it quick. There’s bodies that need to be drained once I’m done with you.” Quinn chuckled. “Seems like we had some rats from last night’s party.”
Alarm blared up each vertebrae of her spine.
Draining…killing…
Quinn had joked about it. But she knew that tone in his voice. He wasn’t playing around tonight. His jokes were becoming serial. What would families have to miss when there was nothing there to be missed?
She was vengeful. She was angry. And she was violent. But she wasn’t to those who didn’t deserve it.
Growling bubbled from her stomach.
Oh, Quinn deserved it.
And then his silver eyes were on her’s.
“Obey.” Quinn whispered in her ear. Lamb choked out. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. “It’s too late for anything else.”
Her throat slit with the sound of ripping paper.
Otherworldly strength bolted her to the wall and to his starving growls. Quinn bit down on his next kiss, slashing so deep through her upper lip his fang grated against teeth. The sound was nails on a chalkboard inside her mouth.
Lamb’s eyes shot open.
Quinn’s laughter dug out her ears. It was all she heard.
The front of her shirt was wet. So wet…
She couldn’t breathe.
Quinn snapped her neck, slitting her throat wider so more blood cascaded down her body.
“What a beautiful little lamb.”
She was dying.
She was dying.
“My obedient little Lamb.” Quinn’s mouth was so red. His fangs were the color of brandy, expensive with the taste of her life stained on his grin. “Be a dear and take my sins with you?”
Lamb gagged over the sounds of herself dying.
“You belong to me.”
No.
“Mine.”
No.
No.
“Mine.” Quinn sank teeth so deep she couldn’t scream.
No.
“NO!”
The scream raked up her throat. Darlin lurched upright, the bedsheets peeling off her skin slick with sweat. Panic burst like static under her skin, eyes feeding off of every inch of the bedroom without recognizing it.
“Darlin’?”
Sam was sitting up beside her, head off the pillow and his body alert to her at vampiric speed. Darlin glanced his way.
Fangs made her flinch.
But it wasn’t Quinn’s teeth.
It was Sam.
Right.
Sam’s teeth.
Sam was frozen, waiting with his arms ready to hold but not daring to touch. His concern was so thick in the air Darlin might have choked on it. If she wasn’t already holding her throat far too tight. Every breath burned.
She couldn’t get rid of the feeling of Quinn’s fangs ripping her throat out.
“Darlin’?” Sam’s brow twisted in concern. The blackout curtains prevented any real light shining on his face. But the dim silver glow of her night light caught his stubble in soft ways.
Sam had bought the light for her. A crescent moon that glowed, even during the day. He’d never asked if he could. Never asked if she was scared of the dark. He’d just paid attention. Paid attention to the fact she never slept when it was pitch black.
She closed her eyes. Rubbing at her throat, Darlin reminded herself that there weren’t any teeth digging into her pulse. Wining, Darlin swept her tongue over the scar gouged through her mouth. That wound was real.
She needed to get a sense of her surroundings. She was with Sam. Sam was safe. But her body wasn’t convinced. Her lungs couldn’t stop collapsing. Each inhale sent her senses skittering into alarm.
Vampire.
She smelled vampire. Over, and over again. Darlin felt sheets that only belonged to Sam. Thought about the night light that had been a gift from Sam. Thought about the flannel that Sam hadn’t taken from her when she’d stolen it to sleep in.
Darlin shut her eyes, covering her mouth and breathing in the faint scent of Sam’s lavender hand soap.
Of course you’re smelling vampire. It’s Sam!
She was with Sam. Her heart broke, nearly lapping up every speck of lavender that she could smell on her hand. It tasted like soap. And tears. And snot.
But the dark thought would always return. Something her body wouldn’t let her mind reason away.
He may be your mate, but there’s no mark from Sam to protect you.
It was a stupid, erratic thought. One that only struck when Darlin couldn’t get herself to calm down and remind herself that she didn’t need Sam’s teeth in her to belong with him. To be mated to him. To feel safe with him.
But her senses kept betraying her, chasing the truth away with fear.
Vampire.
Quinn.
Quinn.
Quinn.
No.
Sam.
Sam.
Sam.
SAM.
Darlin burned his name into her being, fighting for control. Her fingers brushed her scarred lip.
You know who you belong to.
“Sam…” Darlin wept, voice creaking out like a child lost in the dark. She collapsed into his chest, hearing his breaths rattle and his heart beat as he held her.
Not Quinn.
Sam.
Not Quinn.
Sam.
“I’m here. I’m here.” Sam cradled her. “Your mate is right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
That snapped her head up in a rush. She nearly knocked Sam’s chin off in the process. Darlin’s eyes went wide, reading in the calm worry etched into Sam’s face. The night light made his eyes glow like mercury.
Mate. The word was like a tether. Darlin cling to it for dear life. She didn’t need a mark. She just needed that word.
Darlin just needed Sam.
Strains of words that Darlin’ couldn’t understand slipped past her wails. She didn’t know what she was weeping about. And when she finally got a hold of herself, she wouldn’t ask. Darlin just clung to Sam and drenched his shoulder in tears, shaking until exhaustion dragged her back to sleep.
“I’m yours. Darlin. I’m yours. You’re safe. I love you.”
Tomorrow, she didn’t know if she’d admit to this ever happening. If she would ever acknowledge the weight Quinn still pressed into her life or how much she’d cracked. But, for now…
“I’m…I’m yours…t…t…too.”
For now, she’d just cry.